An ACCOUNT OF VIRTUE: OR, Dr. Henry More's's ABRIDGEMENT OF MORALS, Put into English.  Cicero Tusc. Quaest. 
O vitae Philosophia Dux! O Virtutum Indagatrix, Expultrixque Vitiorum; Unus Dies benè, & ex Preceptis tuis, actus, peccanti Immortalitati est anteponendus.  
LONDON, Printed for Benj. took, MDCXC.   

EXTRACT OF Dr. More's EPISTLE TO HIS READER.  
Setting forth,  
THAT he was with difficulty persuaded by his Friends to a Work of this Nature; as having first a very mean Opinion of those Systems for Moral Philosophy, which pretend to overthrow Iniquity by Definitions and Divisions. He thought it was Virtue alone was fit to enter the List; and such Virtue as could not where be found, but by Faith in God, and a Reverence to his Holy Scriptures. That in them the Sense and Meaning was wholly Divine, and that he who so believed, and did not willingly abuse his knowledge therein; would come easily to discern, what in all things was th● Good, and what the Evil. But tha● if a Man had no such feeling, and knew not how to put himself under the Discipline of Self-denial, let him be never so versed in Definitions and distributions of Virtue, he ever would be destitute both of Virtue itself, and of all the Fruits and Consequences of it. Here the Doctor laments to see the World so abound with Monsters who even deride this Blessing of Virtue, and upon all occasions expose i● for a mere Imaginary Thing.  
That his Friends, even from these Motives and Obstructions, increased their Importunity; Urging on him the greater need of such a Work, as might not only bear down Opposition by some new Advantage in the Method, but in carrying Proofs for every Precept, and Conviction for ●vry Rule. They plainly showed, That the Age was grown so captious, ●hat nothing would pass, or look ●inding on the Mind of Man, but what Right Reason did irresistibly compel him unto. That therefore, if a Treatise of this happy Texture might ●e obtained, it would not only gratify ●he Good, but perhaps even kindle ●nd engender some Divine Sparks towards Virtue in the Bad.  
However, and notwithstanding all ●hese Instigations, he at first utterly Dissented, as being then plunged in Studies of a different kind, which did not only entertain, but even ravish his Mind with Delight. Yet having but for one Night revolved the Arguments laid before him, and comparing in his Thoughts the difference between Self-Content, and the Hopes of a Public Good; (such was the Instability of Human resolution) he even started from the Work he had i● hand, and purposed with Ardour to pursue the New. Indeed the hints o● Conscience, and the Preference due to a higher Good, grew so much upo● him; that the more he had inclined to the first Work, and shown Averseness to this latter; the more he resolved to conquer himself in both and to make herein some Experiment of his own Sincerity.  
He owns he had this farther provocation, that having long ago employed his Talon, in demonstrating, from the foundations of Natural Theology, that there was a God; and that the Soul of Man was Immortal; he thought it not incongruous to add now some third Treatise concerning Life and good Manners; such as might lead Men on to the knowledge, and to the fruition of the rest.  
Hereupon he says, that as soon as he Scheme and Platform of his Work was but settled in his Thoughts 〈◊〉 which was very soon done) he then ●…ent his whole Mind to it, and pur●…'d it with one continued Heat, till 〈◊〉 was all accomplished.  
The Doctor than sets forth, how the true Design of all, who writ of Morals, is, or aught to be, for amendment of Life. That it was not to Ca●il or to Dispute, or make ostentation of Science; but that the Work in Hand, was an honest Intention to excite the Minds of Men unto Virtue. And that by Reading and Meditating on the Precepts thereof, every Man might pursue and attain such Blessing, and complete his Felicity by it. That this was the whole Scope and the true Motive, of this Manual. But ●f, in the handling thereof, he had not trod in the path which others had taken; he had Hopes however when the whole Mould and Spirit o● it was considered, it might not displease the Reader. For as to poin● of Order, he had always put that i● the first place, which was most clear and that behind which was more obscure; This being the utmost aim o● what all good Method pretends unto He does acknowledge to have left ou● (since Prudence did so advise it) 〈◊〉 great heap of Rules and Admonitions which others talk of. But having selected those of most Concern, a comprehending in them the Life an●… Power of the rest; and having eve● dived for this purpose into the intimate Recesses of his own Soul an● Experience, to furnish those, whic● might most inflame or conjure Me● unto Virtue; He hopes this will no● pass for less, than had he barely transcribed from Books, and from the Authorities that went before him.  
However he owns, that as to one Branch herein, he had chief conformed to what Des-Cartes in his Definitions of the Passions had done before him; which yet being but a matter of mere Speculation, is therefore subject to the less Exceptions.  
And although, as to the rest, his chief intention was, To pour forth the Sense and Emanations of his own Mind upon this Subject; Yet that he very often, and most respectfully, had concurred with many of the Ancients: And had even produced their very Words and Sentences, that it might the more appear, how by comparing and fortifying them with his own, he had not so much affected Singularity in this Undertaking, as a restitution of Morals to their pristin State.  
But if, after all, he shall be censured as overdoing this Matter in too Numerous a Citation of such Ancient Authors; he freely owns that herein also, he did purposely meditate how to expose, to the Eyes of the Christian World, What a holy and sanctified sense of Virtue even the Heathens had; and how, in their frequent Writings, they had so Divinely expressed it, That we Christians might be ashamed to consider, how few of us either Live so well, or Speak so wisely as they did. For (alas) we of this Age, scorn to be subject, either to the Name or Exercise of Virtue! We disown and vilify it, as fit only for the more barbarous and unpollished Nations of the World, such as are not enlightened, and whom we think despicably of; while in this very presumption we do not so much undervalue their Ignorance, as we discover our own. What Rational Creature is there, but must acknowledge, That Virtue has a participation with the Divine Nature? And what else could make it, as it is, so great a part of our Christian Religion? For howbeit those three Names, which among Men so often occur, of Virtue, Grace, and the Divine Life, may seem distinct; Yet, if rightly pondered, they are all but one and the same Thing. For to affirm that the Perfection of Man's Mind makes up the Divine Life, inasmuch as the Image of God is represented in it; This surely is no slight Notion of Virtue, but rather a strong and comprehensive Representation thereof. The same we might say of Grace also, as it is God's Munificence towards Man; and of Virtue no less, as it is a powerful Faculty of the Soul, whereby the Passions are so subdued, as in every Case to be able to prosecute that which is the most perfect Good. This is the Definition, the Dr. hath chosen to bestow on Virtue in his following Tract; Designing thereby to rebuke the folly of those Men, who think they can live a Divine Life, without tying themselves up to the Rules of Morality; and who lay aside Virtue, while they fanatically pretend unto Grace.   

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IF among many other Faults in this Translation, the Reader finds it not always strict to the Latin; It was hard, where the Quotations were Numerous, and in such different Styles, to keep to that Rule, but at the hazard of a much better; Namely, That every Translation should look like an Original. Which is somewhat attempted in this Essay.  
K. W. Septemb. 1688.   

The Heads of the following Chapters.  


Chap. I. WHat Ethics or Morals are? Page 1  
Chap. II. Of the parts of Ethics, and of Happiness, Page 3  
Chap. III. Of Virtue in General, and of Right Reason, Page 11  
Chap. IV. Certain Axioms, or Intellectual Principles, into which all the Reasons of Morality maj be reduced, Page 20  
Chap. V As there is something good simply, and of its own Nature; so also to show by what Faculties the same is found and understood, Page 28  
Chap. VI Of the Passions in general, and of the Helps they afford, Page 33  
Chap. VII. Of Passions properly so called, according to their kinds, Page 43  
Chap. VIII. The Use and Interpretation of the Passions; and first of Admiration, with all in that Classis: And of the other five Primitive Passions, Page 54  
Chap. IX. The Use and Interpretation of Love and Hatred, which are in the Second Classis, Page 61  
Chap. X. The Use and Interpretation of the Passions of the Third Classis, which fall under the Head of Cupidity, Page 65  
Chap. XI. The Interpretation and Use of Joy and Grief, which constitute the Fourth Classis, Page 69  
Chap. XII. That all Passions (properly so called) are in themselves Good; And that from a Right Interpretation of them, 'tis manifest there is something Good and Bad in its own Nature. And lastly, to show what such Nature or Essence, of Good and Bad can be, Page 78  
Chap. XIII. Of other Passions or Bodily Impressions, Page 84    

In the Second Book.  

Chap. I. OF the Number of the Primitive Virtues, Page 92  
Chap. II. Of Prudence, the first Primitive Virtue, Page 98  
Chap. III. Of the other two Primitive Virtues, Sincerity and Patience. Page 104  
Chap. IV. Of Justice in general, which is the first of the three principal Virtues, which are termed Derivative, Page 111  
Chap. V Of Piety, Page 117  
Chap. VI Of Probity, or of Justice properly so called, Page 123  
Chap. VII. Of the other two principal Derivative Virtues, Fortitude and Temperance, Page 130  
Chap. VIII. Of the Reductive Virtues, Page 134  
Chap. IX. Of that Mediocrity, in which Virtue does consist; And of the true measure of such Mediocrity, Page 146  
Chap. X. Of Good Things, which are External, Page 160    

In the Third book.  

Chap. I. OF , Page 172  
Chap. II. Two principal Objections against  Proposed and Answered, Page 181  
Chap. III. Theorems, which are of general Use in the Acquiring of Virtues, Page 191  
Chap. IV. Things which contribute to the attaining of the Primitive Virtues, Page 208  
Chap. V How the three principal Derivative Virtues may be Acquired, Page 213  
Chap. VI Of Acquiring the Reductive Virtues; And first of those which refer to Justice, Page 224  
Chap. VII. Of Acquiring those Virtues, which refer to Fortitude, Page 230  
Chap. VIII. Of Acquiring those Virtues, which refer to Temperance, and about exciting the Divine Love, Page 235  
Chap. IX. Of the Acquisition of External Good, Page 242  
Chap. X. Of the Good which is External; and of that which is Supreme and Eternal, according to the Mind of the Philosophers. Page 255     

ERRATA.  
PAge 104. line 13. read from motives of. p. 107. l. 17. r. as not to be. p. 110. l. 3. deal which. p. 118. l. 30. r. is herein. p. 132. l. 5. r. with being, p. 133. l. 22. r. inferior Creatures. p. 151. l. 6. r. chooser. p. 157. l. 17. r. to this. p. 179. l. 11. r. of acting. p. 215. l. 16. r. hath been p. 218. l. 8. r. drives him.   

AN ACCOUNT OF VIRTUE.  


CHAP. I. What Ethics or Morals are.  
ETHICS are defined to be the Art of Living well and happily.  
I. WE understand in this place, by Art, a methodical Knowledge of such Precepts as are consentaneous one to another. And therefore, since Ethics are that Art we design to treat of, our Precepts must all partake thereof, and all conduce thereunto; for else they would not be consentaneous. So that you are not to expect Precepts how to dispute, but how to live, and how to be happy.  
The Reason why in the Definition above we call it, The Art of Living both well and happily, is, because a Man may live well, and yet not altogether so happily; which two differing kinds of Life the Pythagoreans did rightly distinguish; for by their Doctrine, it is one thing to be perfect according to Nature, another according to Life.  
II. NOW such men, are by nature perfect, who are adorned with Virtue. For, by the Definition of those Philosophers, Virtue is the top and perfection of every Nature. They term these men good only, and not happy or blest. But such men are said to be perfect according to life, who are not only good, but also happy. For they define happiness to be the Perfection of human Life; and they define human life to be a Collection or Chronicle of human Actions. Wherefore, seeing the Event and Success of such Actions depend on Fortune, no man can, without the Benefits of Fortune, enjoy a perfect State. The wise Hippodamus Thurius observed, That it was Virtue and Fortune together that made Actions perfect; Virtue as to the Practice, and Fortune as to the Success.  
III. THE Definition of Felicity given by Archytas, is consonant to what we have said, namely, That it was the practice of Virtue joined with good Fortune. And last of all, Euthephemus hath well illustrated the matter in this threefold Similitude: Just as a General (saith he) overcomes by Valour and good Success; and as the Pilot gains his Port by true steering, and a favourable Gale; and as the Eye beholds by the Power of Vision, and Help of Light: so is our Life then best, when accompanied with Virtue and good Fortune. We might add unto all, the Authority of Aristotle himself, who requires external Goods to the completing of Happiness. Now although the good Things of Fortune, which we here recommend, cannot absolutely be said to be within our Power; yet we presume to say, that forasmuch as the Precepts, laid down by Ethics, 
Vide in this Book, L. 3. c. 10. § 13.  do admirably steer a man to their acquisition (as in due place it will appear) we must conclude, that such Externals are by good title referrable to Ethics. For although they are sometimes miss of, and not always attained: yet this is only as it happens with Physicians and Pilots; who, though they often miscarry, yet no man infers from thence, but that there are such Arts in the World, as Physic and Navigation too.   

CHAP. II. Of the Parts of Ethics, and of Happiness.  
I. ETHICS are divided into two Parts, The Knowledge of Happiness, and the Acquisition of it. The Knowledge contains the Doctrine of its Nature, and of such things as the Nature of Happiness does, in some sort, either comprehend, or else refer unto. Whence in this first Part we shall principally treat of the Virtues, and of the Passions: and in the last Part add somewhat about the external Supports of life.  
II. HAPPINESS is that pleasure which the mind takes in from a Sense of Virtue, and a Conscience of Welldoing; and of conforming in all things to the Rules of both. Wherefore we say, that external Comforts, or some moderate proportion of them, do much conduce to the making happiness complete. Here we call Happiness a Pleasure of the Mind rather than an Operation of it, since all men allow it to be the best and greatest of human Fruitions. But as that cannot be the greatest which is subservient to another, so the Operation of the mind cannot be said to be its greatest good, since it is but in order to Pleasure. And it is upon this Account, 
Ethic. E●d. lib. 1. cap. 7.  as Aristotle observes, that we often heighten and raise our Operations; not that we are pleased with the Operation itself, but because we expect a pleasure from it, which we highly value, and which we look upon as an effect thereof.  
III. FURTHERMORE, to come closer to the Mark, this Pleasure by which we define Happiness, is here considered as the Flower and Masterpiece of that very Operation, in the ways of Virtue, which makes up the Excellency of Life. For, in every Action we go about, it is Pleasure that makes the Operation complete; it is as the Soul of the Work which cannot be wanting. And so Aristotle says, That it gives Perfection to all our Works, 
Eth. Nic lib. 10. c. 4  and ●ven to Life itself.  
It is plain, that each Creature hath its own particular Pleasure, which is construed to be ●s supreme Happiness. Whence we may in●er, That human Happiness does also consist ●n human Pleasure; but such, I mean, as ariseth from the Sense of Virtue.  
IU. NEXT we say, that all sorts of Men, not the Fools only, but the Philosophers, ●ave placed Happiness in Pleasure. Aristotle ●ath noted in the following Words: 
Magn. Moral l. 2. c. 7.  That ●ll People accounted Happiness to be a Pleasure, and desired to live therein, or at least ●ot without it. And again elsewhere he says: That no man can rationally think, 
Eud. l. 7. c. 5.  ●ut he that is truly happy lives very pleasantly. And again in his Rhetoric: 
Rhet. l. 1. c. 15.  That Happiness is that way of Life which is most pleasant with Security. So even our own Divines are wont to describe the Celestial Happiness, by an uninterrupted Joy.  
V IN the fifth place it appears, by Aristotle's own Definition of Pleasure, 
Magn. Moral. l. 2. c. 7.  that Happiness is of the same Affinity. For he defines Pleasure to be, A Restitution of every Creature from a state imperfect, or preternatural, unto its own proper Nature. Now a true Feeling and Possession of Virtue, is also the conversion or bringing a man about, from what is contrary to his Nature, to that which is conformable to it. For though all Depravity be, according to Trismegistus, inbred, and connatural to Brutes, 
Marcus Imperator, lib. 7. cap. 11.  yet in Reality the same is quite contrary to human Nature. For (as the Emperor Marcus Aurelius observes) to act according to Nature or according to Reason, is in a rational Creature the same thing. Wherefore all pravity is repugnant to human Nature. But that Virtue is natural to human Nature, and born as a Twin therewith, is manifest, as well because Man's Soul is a rational Being, as because Righteousness or perfect Virtue (as we are told by Divine Revelation) is immortal; and that it was Sin only that brought Death into the World. For since the State of Innocence was to have been eternal, this plainly shows, that such a state was most perfect and most natural. And therefore that Restitution unto such a State must be the most intrinsic and peculiar Pleasure.  
V last, it must be agreed, that the Desires of the Soul fly not to their Object, as it is intelligible, but as it is good or congruous, or grateful, or at least tending to these ends; and so filling the mind with all the Joys and Pleasure it can comprehend. Hence it is plain, that supreme Happiness is not barely to be placed in the Intellect; but her proper Seat must be called the Boniform Faculty of the Soul: 
Vide in this Book, L. 3 c. 9 § 14, 15, 16.  namely, a Faculty of that divine Composition, and supernatural Texture, as enables us to distinguish not only what is simply and absolutely the best, but to relish it, and to have pleasure in that alone. Which Faculty much resembles that part of the Will which moves towards that which we judge to be absolutely the best, when, as it were with an unquenchable thirst and affection it is hurried on towards so pleasing an Object; and being in possession of it, is swallowed up in satisfaction that cannot be expressed.  
VI HE therefore who acts according to this Faculty, conforms to the best and divinest thing that is in us. And this, as Aristotle notes, is necessary unto Happiness. 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 10. c. 7.  For whether (saith he) it be the very mind of man, or something else that, according to Nature, seems to govern and preside within us, as having knowledge of what is most Lovely and Divine; or whether it be God himself that immediately operates; or else those Gifts which we derive from above: this is plain, that such inward Working and Conformity to Virtue's Law, is that which denominates true Happiness. Here the Philosopher seems doubtful whether it be the Intellect, or any other Faculty (which yet bears Impression of things lovely and divine) in whose Operation true Happiness does consist. Yet afterwards he takes part with the Intellect, and placeth Happiness in Contemplation. But we presume to say, this can be no moral Happiness; since it would be confined to a few speculative Men and Philosophers, and so shut out the Bulk of Mankind, who could never be partakers thereof.  
VII. WHEREFORE, we think, Happiness should be seated rather in that Boniform Faculty we have spoke of; since it is the most elevated and most divine Faculty of the Soul, and seems to supply the same place in it, as the essential Good of the Platonics, is said to do in the Deity. As also because the Study and Improvement of it is common to all men. For it is not above the Talon of the meanest, to love God, and his Neighbour very hearty. And, if this be done with Prudence and Purity of Life, it is the Completion of this Happiness, and the very natural Fruit of this exalted Faculty.  
And let no man think meanly thereof, since we are free to aver, that nothing of greater Benediction can betid us, either in the present, or in the future life, than such a testimony of the Divine Love. But we shall elsewhere speak more freely thereof.  
VIII. WE do therefore mention in our Definition of Happiness, the pleasure which the mind enjoys from a sense of Virtue; because there are some kinds of allowable pleasure, such as Aristotle calls pure and generous, 
Nicom. lib. 10. c. 6. Magn. Moral. lib. 2. c. 7.  and laughs at those who think otherwise. For such (says he) as will not allow that any Pleasure can be honest, are like those Companions, who, not comprehending what Nectar is, do fancy that the Gods drink Wine; inasmuch as they themselves know nothing better.  
IX. NOW I affirm this pleasure to arise from a Sense of Virtue; and it is erroneous to think the Fruit of Virtue should consist in such imaginary knowledge as is gotten by bare Definitions of Virtue: for this amounts to no ●ore, than if a man would pretend to know ●he Nature of Fire from the bare Picture of Fire, which can afford no Heat. All kind of Vital Goods (as I may take the liberty to call ●hem) are by our Life and Senses to be judged of, and enjoyed. And Virtue is in itself an ●nward life, not an outward shape, or to be discovered by the Eye. According to that ●memorable Saying of Plotinus: 
Vide in this Book, L. 2. c. 2. § 5. etc. 3. § 1.  If you ever were the thing itself, you may then be said to have seen it. But being once transformed into this life of Virtue, then indeed you behold the Beauties, and taste the Pleasures thereof; than you grow enamoured, and your Soul is taken up with Joys that cannot be uttered. However till you shall attain this State, and while this Blessed Disposition of the Soul is not as yet awakened in you, 'tis fit you credit those who are in the Fruition of it. Nor can that Saying of Aristotle be ever more opportunely urged than in this Case, That Learners must believe. For should you venture to make judgement of the Pleasure that is in Virtue, being as yet void of all Experience, it were to be feared, you would prosecute it so faintly, as never to obtain it, but be left to expiate your incredulity in this Life, by a too lasting punishment in the other.  
X. AS to the preceding Words that are annexed to the Definition of Happiness: Namely, That it was made perfect by external Comforts: How could this otherwise be? For since Happiness consists in that Pleasure, which good men take in the Sense of Virtue, and a Conscience of Welldoing; no man can possess this Happiness, if any pain be so intense upon him, as to distract the Mind, and extinguish all present Sense of Pleasure. Whence it plainly follows, that we must not lie under acute Diseases, or want the Food that is needful. For the want of a Sufficiency for Nature; or a State of Captivity; or any Degree of Vassalage; are able to depress, as well as distract, the Mind by Cares and Anxiety. They hinder Happiness from being in its Perfection, nor can Heroical Virtue produce so full a Crop. 
Haud facilè emergunt, quorum virtutibus obstat  
Res angusta domi—   
XI. 
Magn. Moral. lib. 2. c. 8.  WHEREFORE (as Aristotle saith) while we are Men, and carry about us the Frailties we are born to, we shall ever be wanting of external Prosperity. For complete Happiness cannot be without those two Ingredients, which the Pythagoreans termed Praise and Comfort; 
Moral. Nicom. lib. 10. c. 9  meaning Praise that results from Virtue, and Comfort from good Fortune. This we sufficiently noted before to be the Pythagoreans Doctrine. 
Magn. Moral.  And Aristotle, in his great Morals, strikes again upon the same Note; affirming, That without external Comforts, it was impossible to be happy.  
XII. HOWEVER he inclines much to a Mediocrity herein, and quotes Solon for it: That a Man may do all things that are fit for him, out of a moderate Estate. For as to Excess of Wealth, it rather chokes up the Way to Virtue, than mends the Path. Archytas compares Wealth unto Wine, and to Light; saying, that one blinded the Eyes, and the other turned the Brains, of very good Men, when they were in excess. Whence Aristotle, when he interprets the Answer of Anaxagoras, does not make his happy Man to be either a Potentate, or a Man of overgrown Riches; 
Moral. Eudem. lib. 1. c. 4.  But the Man that was full of Innocence, free from Pain, and who had some share of Divine Contemplation. This was his happy Man.   

CHAP. III. Of Virtue in general: and of Right Reason.  
I. VIRTUE is an intellectual Power of the Soul, by which it overrules the animal Impressions or bodily Passions; so as in every Action it easily pursues what is absolutely and simply the best.  
Here it seems fit, in the Definition, 
L. 3. c. 1. § 3.  to call Virtue rather a Power than a Habit. First, because the word Virtue implies as much, and signifies the same thing as Fortitude. And next because an Habit is not essential to Virtue. For if a Man had this intellectual Power born in him, he would doubtless be virtuous, though it came not to him in the way of repeated Actions, such as constitute a Habit. For it is not the external Causes, but the internal, which make the essence of a thing. Besides it is this Idea of Virtue which elevates and inclines the mind to love her, and tread in her ways, and which argues Virtue to be a quick and vigorous heat, by which the mind is easily and irresistibly moved to do things which are good and honourable. So that we esteem this very Notion of Virtue able to rouse up men from Sloth and Lethargy, and make those ashamed, who on a few moderate Performances think to set up for Men of Virtue.  
II. WE term this a Power intellectual, not only because of its situation, which is in the intellectual part of the Soul (and not in the animal part of it, where that Power resides which governs the Members) but also because it is always excited by some Principle which is intellectual or rational. By animal Impressions we understand every motion of the Body, which being obtruded with any sort of Violence on the Soul, brings danger of Sin and Error, if not carefully watched.  
Therefore all such Delusions and Imaginations, as strongly assault the Mind, may fitly be referred to this Head. By Actions, I mean all Motions made by the Soul upon deliberation, which is to say, all such as may properly be termed human Actions; whether ●hey be such as the Schoolmen call Elicitae or Imperatae: that is, whether they do immediately proceed from the Soul itself; or whether they are occasioned from any outward Impressions made upon the Soul. Under which Heads we may rightly comprehend the accepting or refusing any Philosophical Opinion, whether Physical or Metaphysical. And so of any thing else.  
III. AS to the Pursuit of the Soul, we spoke of; this was to set off, and more openly express ●he intellectual Power: for if it had not that ●orce to pursue, it would not be Virtue, but only a Disposition towards it. So Thedges the Pythagorean hath it: That Reason doth not beget in us a Continency and Forbearance, but by putting a forcible Restraint upon Lust and Anger. And that when the Passions do overcome, and put the same forcible restraint upon Reason, she than gives place to Incontinency and a softness of mind which receives all Impressions; when as bare Dispositions without such a forcible restraint, can only produce imperfect Virtues, and imperfect Vices.  
Wherefore the Philosopher makes these interchangeable Conflicts, and Dispositions of the Soul, to be but Virtues half perfect, as also the Vices but half inveterate.  
And whoreas we say, the Soul pursues what was absolutely and simply the best, this was to manifest that famous distinction of a twofold Good; one General, which was absolute good, or absolutely better. The other Particule and which in respect of some single Inclinati● of any particular person, was good or better: the is to say, either grateful, or more gratef● But what we hold to be the absolute Good, 〈◊〉 better thing, is that which proves grateful, 〈◊〉 more grateful, to the Boniform Faculty of 〈◊〉 Soul, which we have already pronounced 〈◊〉 be a Thing Divine.  
iv 
Moral. Nicom. l. 6. c. 13.  ARISTOTLE seems to me, in his Ethics to Nicomachus, to point at this very Facul● saying, That what is best, in whatever Subject it be; is not apparent, but to a good Ma● By which he means, that men do discov● that which is best in every Subject (I me●… really and simply best) not as they 〈◊〉 knowing, but as they are Good. So that m● thinks he had spoken more correctly had 〈◊〉 styled this Faculty, The very Eye of the S●… than to call it that sort of Natural Industry which seems too much bordering upon Cros● But forasmuch as no man can feel the Mo●tives and Dictates of this Divine Faculty, b● one who hath attained to it by diligent application, we must have recourse to some middle. Principle to serve as Mercury did of old, an● be an Interpreter between God and Man● And for this we shall constitute that which we call Right Reason. Wherefore that certainly is absolutely and simply the best, which according to the Circumstances of the Case in question, comes up closest to Right Reason, or 〈◊〉 rather consentaneous with it.  
V FOR Right Reason, which is in Man, is a sort of Copy or Transcript of that Reason or Law eternal which is registered in the Mind Divine. However this Law is not by Nature made otherwise known unto us, than as 'tis communicated and reflected on our Minds by the same Right Reason, and so shines forth. But by how much it shines forth, by so much doth it oblige the Conscience, even as a Law Divine inscribed in our Hearts. To this very Sense the Pythagoreans pronounced of Virtue: Tha it was the Habit of doing what ought to be done. They did not barely intent, The doing what was equal, and in a Mean, or doing what needed neither Addition nor Substraction, as being already what it ought to be: But the doing that which was obligatory, and of Duty, and according to a Law which was immutable. And so also did Epictetus famously pronounce, What ever appears to be best, let that be your inviolable Law.  
VI THE height of Virtue is this, constantly to pursue that which to Right Reason seems best. For indeed she herself is even absolutely and simply that best, not only as she is so consonant to Divine Reason, which does nothing partially for the sake of this or that particular: but as she generously dictates, like to a common Parent, such Laws as tend, in their own Nature, to the Happiness of all Mankind. Hence Aristotle calls God, the Law eternal, as regarding every way with equal Benignity. 
De Mundo, cap. 6.  So also, as well among the Pythagoreans as th● Stoics, it was held, That to follow God, or 〈◊〉 follow Nature, was just the same thing as 〈◊〉 follow Right Reason. For this alone is tha● which constitutes our Nature, and distinguishe● a Man from a Beast.  
VII. YET after all, as Aristotle himself 〈◊〉 fain often to confess, though it be easy to agree this Best to be that which to Right Reason i● consonant; yet what this Right Reason is, 〈◊〉 what is the measure of it, seems a most difficult matter truly to resolve. 
Magn. Moral. lib. 2. c. 10.  The Philosophe having (in his great Morals) brought in one who demands, what Right Reason was, and where to be found? The Answer is but darkly thus, That unless a Man have within himself a Sense of things of this Nature, there is nothing to be done. It was indeed the Answer which a Physician gave to one who asked him, how he should distinguish, which was the paleness that argued a man to be ill of an Ague. But the same Philosopher presently subjoins, That it was the like Case, as 〈◊〉 make 〈◊〉 Judgement of the Passions; namely, That by some Sense and Feeling of them, the conjecture was to be made. So that in short the final Judgement upon this matter, is all referred to inward Sense, which I confess, I should rather have called, 
Magn. Moral. lib. 2. c. 8.  The Boniform Faculty of the Soul. However, as Aristotle somewhere notes, of Men who by a sort of Violence, and without Reason, 
L. 3. c. 1. §. 2.  are hurried on to good, I must own, that whoever is so affected, differs but little from them who are inspired. And certainly this Principle which I call the Boniform Faculty, is the most divine thing within us, but hath nothing in it that favours of Fanaticism.  
VIII. THE Philosopher, in another place, defines Right Reason thus, 
Moral. Eudem. l. 5. c. 13.  That such Reason was right, as was conformable to Prudence. Now whereas Prudence itself is nothing but that natural Sagacity, or well cultivated Diligence of the Mind; which he elsewhere calls, The very Eye of the Soul: This only brings back the same answer as before; resolving right Reason rather into an inward Sense, or an inward Faculty of Divination; than into any certain and distinct Principles, by which a Man might judge of that which in every thing were the best.  
IX. HOWEVER, the same Philosopher is at last, towards the end of his Eudemicks, 
Moral. Eudem. l. 7. c. 15.  very clear and very apposite in this Matter. For when he brings the same question on the stage, the Resolution is as follows, ' That we are in this, as in other Occasions, to regulate our Lives by the Dictates of our internal Regent; that we must aspire to such habits, as may enable us to imitate the high Character of such a Regent, and to conform thereto in all things. Which amounts to this, that our Consciences must be kept pure and immaculate. For he adds, That as human Nature does consist of two parts, the one to command, the other to obey: so by institution in all Governments, the inferiors are tied to be subject to the Rulers. That also this Government is of a double sort. For just as Physic requires one thing, and Health another, and that the first is but in order to the latter; even so it fares in contemplating the Ways of God. He, as the high and supreme Governor, first sends his Edicts forth; but the end and designation of them is to beget prudence in the heart of Man: and then the work of prudence is to distinguish what in human affairs i● best. Now as to God, he already is all-sufficient, and wants nothing; wherefore we may infer, that whatever choice, or whatever acquisition of natural Gifts we have, which may most contribute to annex the Soul to God by contemplation; this surely is the best, and this the noblest Measure for all our Deliberations. As on the other side, whatever is so deficient, or so redundant as to interrupt our Contemplation of God, or of the Homage we own him, this of all things is the vilest.  
This was the Answer given, which, for Truth and Divinity, savours not so much of the Philosopher, as of an Oracle.  
X. YET let us add what he writes, to the same effect, 
Lib. 10. c. 8.  unto Nicomachus. He says, That as to the Gods, their whole Being was a continued Series of Happiness; but as to Man, that he had nothing of it farther, than as he held resemblance with his Divine Original. Now he should have remembered, that the Divine Life was not a matter of Sapience only, but was principally to consist in Love, Benignity, and in Beneficence or Welldoing. For these are the Fruits of that Celestial Particle of the Soul, which we term the Boniform; and by which, above any other Accessions, we are made most like unto Almighty God.  
XI. PYTHAGORAS, 
Var. Hist. l. 12. c. 50.  according to what Elian said of him, made a happy Conjunction of these two things, saying, The Gods had been bountiful to Mortals in two eminent Blessings, namely, to speak the truth, and, to act righteously: for that both of these bore resemblance unto the Works of the immortal Gods. Which is to say, that the Perfection of Divine Life is made up of Truth and Welldoing. Wherefore, if men will abide by the Judgement of Aristotle or Pythagoras, or others of the most celebrated, they must own that the Measure of Right Reason is to imitate the Divine Wisdom, and the Divine Goodness, with all our Might. To which also we may refer, and so expound, that saying of Theages the Pythagorean: That the source, cause and measure of human Felicity, does consist in the knowledge of such things as are most excellent, and most divine.   

CHAP. IU. Certain Axioms or Intellectual Principles; into which almost all the Reasons of Morality may be reduced.  
I. BUT since there is a Race of Men in the World, who are quite seared up as to God, and all that is Divine; who allow no such thing as Superiority in the Faculties, but assert Obedience to that Passion in particular, which shall happen to usurp above the rest, and make it the top of human Felicity to fulfil the desires thereof: To such as these, who would injuriously pass for men, which they are not; we must proceed by other steps than what are already set down. For we must not talk of our Boniform Faculty, as the measure of Right Reason, and flowing from the divine part of the Soul, but merely insist with them upon what refers to the Intellect: 
Moral. Eudem. l. 5. c. 8.  since, as Aristotle notes, some things are intelligible, though men know not the reason why.  
II. FROM this Magazine therefore let us draw forth a stock of such Principles, as being immediately and irresistibly true, need no proof; such, I mean, as all Moral Reason may in a sort have reference unto; even as all Mathematical Demonstrations are found in some first undeniable Axioms. And because these Principles arise out of that Faculty, which the Greeks call Nuns, that signifies the Mind or Intellect; and that the Words Noema and Noemata derive therefrom, and properly signify Rules intellectual: we do not therefore improperly style the Rules that hereafter follow, Moral Noema's. But, lest any should fancy them to be morose and unpracticable, I must here affirm, they propose nothing for good, which at the same time is not grateful also, and attended with delight.  

NOEMA I.  
Good is that which is grateful, pleasant, and congruous to any Being, which hath Life and Perception, or that contributes in any degree to the preservation of it.   

NOEMA II.  
But, on the other side, whatever is ungrateful, unpleasant, or any ways incongruous to any Being which hath Life and Perception, is evil. And if it finally tend to the destruction of that being, it is the worst of evils.  
As for example-sake, if any thing should not only offend your Eyes or Ears, but bring also blindness and deafness upon you; this were the worst that could happen. But if the sight and hearing were but only impaired thereby, this were but an inferior Evil. And the Reason holds the same in the other Faculties.   

NOEMA III.  
Among the several kinds or degrees of sensible Being's which are in the world, some are better and more excellent than others.   

NOEMA IU.  
One Good may excel another in Quality, or Duration, or in both.  
This is self-evident: yet it may be illustrated from this absurdity, that otherwise one Life would not be better, nor one sort of Happiness greater than another: so as Gods, Angels, Men, Horses, and the vilest Worm, would be happy alike; which none but a mad man can fancy. And as to Duration there is no scruple thereof.   

NOEMA V.  
What is good is to be chosen; what is evil to be avoided: but the more excellent Good is preferable to the less excellent: and a less Evil is to be born, that we may avoid a greater.   

NOEMA VI.  
In things of which we have no experience, we must believe those who profess themselves to have experience. Provided always that there be no suspicion of fraud or worldly contrivance, but that there be a Conformity between their Professions and their Lives.   

NOEMA VII.  
'Tis more eligible to want a Good, which for weight and duration is very great, than to bear an Evil of the same proportion. And by how much any Evil shall in weight and duration exceed the Good, by so much the more willingly can we be without such Good.   

NOEMA VIII.  
That which must certainly come to pass, aught to be reputed as present; inasmuch as the future will one day come upon us. And herein some proportion of Reason holds in things future, which are very probable.   

NOEMA IX.  
Good things, which excel less, are distinguished by Weight and Duration, from those things which excel more.   

NOEMA X.  
A present Good is to be rejected or moderated, if there be a future Good of infinite more value, as to weight and duration to be but probably expected: and much more therefore if such expectation be certain.   

NOEMA XI.  
A present Evil is to be born, if there be 〈◊〉 probable future Evil infinitely more dangerous as to weight and duration, to be avoided thereby and this is much more strongly incumbent, if the future evil be certain.   

NOEMA XII.  
A mind which is free from the prejudices that attend passion, judges more uprightly than a mind which by such passions, or any other corporeal Impressions is solicited or disturbed. For even as a cloudy Sky, and turbulent Sea will neither transmit or reflect any Light; so a disturbed mind admits no Reason, though it come never so plain and clear.  
Boethius sets this forth in very elegant Verse, which thus gins, 
Nubibus atris Condita nullum  
Fundere possunt Sydera Lumen, &c,  
The Stars, though of themselves so bright,  
When bid in Clouds can give no light.    
III. AND these are those Rules or Noemata, which almost suffice to engender in the Soul that Prudence, Temperance, and Fortitude which regard the Duties we own ourselves. Those which follow regard what we own unto others; as to God, to Man, and to Virtue itself. And therefore they are the Rules and Principles of Sincerity, Justice, Gratitude, Mercy and Piety. For I account Piety among ●he Moral Virtues, inasmuch as God may by ●he Light of Nature be known.  

NOEMA XIII.  
We must pursue the greatest and most perfect Good with the greatest zeal, and lesser Goods with a zeal proportionably less. Nor must we subordinate greater Goods to less, but less to greater.   

NOEMA XIV.  
The Good, which in any case in question, you would have another man do unto you; the same you are bound in the like case, to do unto him; So far forth as it may be done without prejudice ●o a Third.   

NOEMA XV.  
The Evil you would not have done to yourself, you must abstain from doing the same to another, as far as may be done without prejudice to a Third.   

NOEMA XVI.  
Return good for good, and not evil for good.   

NOEMA XVII.  
'Tis good for a man to have wherewithal live well and happily.   

NOEMA XVIII.  
If it be good for one man to have wherewith to be happy; it evidently follows, 'tis twice a good for two men to be happy, thrice for three, thousand times for a thousand; and so of the rest.   

NOEMA XIX.  
'Tis better that one man be disabled from living voluptuously, than that another should live in wa● and calamity.   

NOEMA XX.  
'Tis good to obey the Magistrate in things i● different, even where there is no penalty to disobey.   

NOEMA XXI.  
'Tis better to obey God than Men, or even our own Appetites.   

NOEMA XXII.  
'Tis good and just to give every man what is his due, as also the use and possession thereof without any trouble.   

NOEMA XXIII.  
However 'tis manifest, that a man may so be●ave himself, as that what was his own by acquisition or donation, may of right cease to be ●is own.   
iv THESE and such like Say may ●ustly be called Moral Axioms or Noemas: for they are so clear and evident of themselves, ●hat, if men consider impartially, they need ●o manner of Deduction or Argument, but are agreed to as soon as heard. And thus we are prepared, as with so many Touchstones, to let the inquisitive know what Right Reason is. For in short, it is that which by certain and necessary Consequences, is ●at length resolved into some intellectual Principle which is immediately true.  
And if any ask after Examples in this kind, that are suited to Morality, they may have recourse to such as are above recited.   

CHAP. V To show which are the Faculties whereby we do find and understand what is simply, and in its own nature good.  
I. IT is now manifest, there is something which is simply and absolutely good, which in all human Actions is to be sought for. That its Nature, Essence, and Truth are to be judged of by Right Reason; but that the relish and delectation thereof, is to be taken in by the Boniform Faculty. Also that all Moral Good, properly so called, is Intellectual and Divine: Intellectual, as the Truth and Essence of it is defined and comprehended by the Intellect: and Divine, as the Savour and Complacency thereof, is most effectually tasted through that high Faculty, by which we are lifted up and cleave unto God, (that Almighty One, who is the most pure and absolute Good, and who never wills any thing but what is transcendently the Best.) So that for a man thus to know, and thus to ascend, is not only the highest Wisdom, but the highest Folicity. And it is by this Gradation toward things divine, or by this Flower and Perfection of the Soul, that we atttain to a sort of Coalition with what is perfectly the Best. So it was said of old; 
Objectum quoddam est quod mentis flore prebendas.   
II. NOW as to those men who shall either ●…shly or advisedly reject the Truth of our ●oema's, 'tis easy to guests by this disrelish, ●hat are the Faculties they consult. Nay, ●…is plain they set up for the animal Appetite; ●…d openly declare, that what pleases them ●ost, is only the best. But though we may here ●enture to call this a poor brutal delusion, yet ●…ese things are most properly referred unto, 〈◊〉 the Chapter of Temperance.  
III. IN the mean time, for what relates even to ●ustice, the Sentiments of those Gentlemen ●…e nothing better. They will not allow for ●…e chiefest Good that which is absolutely ●nd in its own nature just; but that which to ●…emselves looks well, without any regard to ●…eir neighbours. And if you inquire into the ●…ate of this Good they so indulge, and so pursue, they make it no secret to tell you ●…ainly, it is what affords best entertainment 〈◊〉 their Senses. Alas, how deplorable is it, that ●an should ever value himself upon such an affinity with the Beast! Nay, in human shape 〈◊〉 become the very Beast! Whereas he has Title to think higher of himself, and to be ●ne and the same with what is most eminent within him; or what in Dignity stands next ●hereto: which is doubtless his Intellect and Right Reason.  
iv FOR as in Numeration the Sum Total is accounted from the last Unite, so is it in other matters; the last and most perfect essential difference makes a Thing to be what it is, and doth distinguish it from all Thi● else. Wherefore, if any man shall make sole good to be that, which to himself grateful, as insisting wholly on the delectati●… of his animal Appetite, he plainly publish himself for a Brute. But if he means and ●…tends such grateful thing, as to the Intelle●… or Right Reason, or to the Boniform Facu●… is suitable: This indeed (as Plotinus saith is the Object of a perfect Man, I mean of a intellectual Man, and for such you may p●nounce him.  
V FOR this is the plain Character of t●… intellectual Life, that as in the search of Tru●… it is not inquired what may seem true to a●… one Body of Men, though ever so numerous much less to any man in particular, but wh●… is simply and absolutely the Truth: so neith●… doth it set up that for good, which to any o● man, or to any number of men, appears 〈◊〉 such; but that which really and absolutely so; and which, in like Circumstances eve● intellectual Creature is bound to elect, b● the animal Nature never so averse. Now 〈◊〉 it happens in specious Arithmetic, that ever● signal Operation stands afterwards for 〈◊〉 Theorem or Conclusion: so in Morals le●… such preference and election, as we hav● mentioned, stand for an eternal Precedent, 〈◊〉 guide our actions in all like cases, when circumstances are the same. And let us acquies●… therein, and acknowledge the Truth there of, though it prove never so ungrateful to ou● Appetites, and seem quite contrary to our external sense.  
VI WHEREFORE as it is an Error in ●he Intellect, to resign itself so far to the imagination, or to the Sense, as but to waver ●n the pursuit of Truth: So doubtless is it an error in the Will, to be so captivated, as to ●esign itself to the animal Appetite, and to forsake what is absolutely good. For if the Will may want at some seasons that relish of good which it ought to have; this is merely the Will's neglect, in not exciting that divine Faculty, by which we not only know what is best, but are elevated, and even ravished when we enjoy it. For it is plain, that when we open our Eyes, such are the Charms of this Joy, that a man would rather venture a thousand deaths, than by any base prevarication to hazard his portion in a state of life, which is so desirable and so divine.  
VII. WHEREFORE as it is now plain, that something there is, which of its own ●ature, and incontestably is true: so is there somewhat which of its own nature is simply good. Also that as the former is comprehended by the Intellect, so the sweetness and delight of the latter is relished by the Boniform Faculty. Wherefore as to those who pronounce every thing good, so far as at any rate it can be grateful, and so establish it for the standard of human Actions; this is Madness itself, inasmuch as hereby they rank the Wise, the Fools, and the Madmen, all in the same state. Nay, perhaps they here● prefer the Fools and Mad men before t●… Wise; since these are the most likely to pesist against all Sense and Reason, and to sti●… by that which is grateful, let it be never 〈◊〉 destructive, vile or ridiculous.  
VIII. SOME there are, I confess, who spea● a little more cautiously in this Matter, an● would have the man they call wise, have Sel● preservation still in his eye, how inordinate so ever they allow him in all the rest. By whic● they show, that if their Fool or Madman ca●… but here be shot-free; they little consider 〈◊〉 Immortality, or the Fruits of solid Wisdo●… However it is plain to every man of Sense that a bare self-preservation is not a desirable thing; for such may be the Scorns and Scourge of this Life, that none but a stupid Creature would in such Circumstances desire to live.  
But lastly, if according to them, Life and Conservation be so valuable, it must also follow, that the more durable these are, they are so much the better, and that the most durable is best of all. Furthermore, if such self-conservation of one man be really good, it is doubly so to preserve two men, 
Noema 18.  and thrice as much to save three, and so forward. Whence by the Light of Nature, it is manifest, that every intellectual Creature stands bound to provide, both in present and in future, for his own, and his Neighbor's Preservation, so far forth as in him lies, and as it may consist without doing prejudice to a third. This is what certainly fulfils not ●nly a great part of Justice, but of empe●ance, and indeed of every other Virtue.   

CHAP. VI Of the Passions in general, and of the Helps they afford.  
●. WHAT Virtue is in the general we have already fixed. And now before we descend to the several sorts or Species ●hereof, it will not be amiss to premise somewhat of the Passions, about which such Virtues are conversant; so as to explain their Nature, ●heir Use, or their Disadvantage: and thereby prepare the Mind to take in such an Idea of Virtue, as may be full and adequate.  
II. BUT by Passions I do not barely understand such as are commonly handled in Moral Philosophy, but every other corporeal Impression, which hath force enough to blind ●he Mind, or abuse the Judgement, in discerning what in every case were the best. Wherefore I add hereunto all sorts of fantastic Notions and false Impressions that are grown pertinacious, and which either by ill custom, ●r the Power of Education, or by internal Proclivity, so seize upon the Mind, as to lead us ●nto any apparent Error. For Virtue ought to reach 〈◊〉 her Authority to the weeding 〈◊〉 even 〈◊〉 these remote Evils, lest the Mind b● shaken when it should judge; or perverted in the Prosecution of that which is simply the best.  
Yet first we shall treat of those Passions which are properly so called; such as are Love, Hatred, Anger, and the rest of that kind. Concerning all which we must maintain 〈◊〉 against the Stoics, that of their own Nature they are good; and that the Intendments of Divine Providence are not less understood by their Use, 
Vide in this Book, L. 1. c. 6. § 2.  than by the Structure of those Organs, which compose every animal Body.  
III. THE Use and Utility of them may in the general be even illustrated thus; that when Passions happen to be joined with a more venement agitation of the Spirits, they seem to perform in a Man (whom some call the little World) what the Winds do in the greater. For as these purge and purify the Air, so those cleanse and defecate the Blood, and suffer it not by stagnation to corrupt.  
iv A●S o● these Passions play upon the Soul in a thousand shapes, and the Scenes of Fancy are so charming, and so variously obtruded, that they often tempt, and even combat with the Understanding. Yet as we get experience, and are made stronger by this Warfare; so is there a new Joy excited in us to see, that notwithstanding all such assaults or the insolence of those Delusions, yet we are sensible of a divine Principle within us, which we call the Mind, (that Heavenly Spark, which holds steady in the midst of all such Commotions) by which we bear up and maintain the same sense, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 8.  stability and judgement we had; and finally and inseparably adhere to that which is simply the best.  
V BESIDES, from such Conflict and such Victory, it is plain, there is a certain Government or Empire acknowledged to be in the Soul; and that the intellectual part hath something which it doth teach and instruct, as a Father doth his Son; or which it breeds and trains up, as in a lower instance, a Huntsman doth his Dogs. 
Ethic. Nicom. lib. 1. c. 13.  Aristotle intimates something to this purpose, when he makes two parts in the Soul, which do in a manner both partake of Reason: The one properly of itself, and in its own right; the other as it were a Son obeying his Father. And here he understands that part of the Soul which exciteth towards Concupiscence and Appetite. For he saith, That the vegetative part partakes not at all of Reason; but that the concupiscible part, and (more universally) the appetitive part of the Soul, does in a sort partake of Reason: inasmuch as it hearkens to what Reason inculcates, and is subjected to the Commands thereof. And yet, with favour from so great a Man, it is not plain, but that the very Plastic Part of the Soul (I mean the seminal, or formative part) which he here calls the Vegetative, does also in some degree submit to Reason For that all those natural Appetites and Eruptions, which we observe, are not so much the Fruits and Effects of the Perceptive Part, as of the Plastic.  
VI DOUBTLESS the Source and Fountain of these is in the Plastic Part, whose chief Seat is in the Heart; but the sense and feeling of them is in the perceptive part, whose Seat is in the Brain. And whereas both these Parts are essentially, vitally, and inseparably the same; it is no wonder if the perceptive part be solicited and wrought upon, and even hurried away by the Passions. It is true these Passions, are of themselves, but as blind Instincts of Nature, such as perhaps are found in the very Plants; unto whom Youth and and Old Age do also agree. But they are conspicuous in living Creatures, as in Birds, when they build their Nests, or hatch their young Ones. Also in Men these Instincts are not only seen, but are, by distinct and teflex Operation of the Mind, known to proceed from some other Cause: as either from the Plastic Part of the Soul alone; 
L. 1. c. 8. § 1. L. 1. c. 12. § 2.  or else as it is in conjunction with that universal Plastic Principle, which by us is termed the Spirit of Nature. And perhaps the same is pointed at by Aristotle himself in that Axiom which he so often repeats, That Nature does nothing in vain.  
VII. FOR as there is a formative or seminal Principle of all Plants, and the like of all animal Bodies; into which Nature hath infused, and then excited, such Operations and Instincts, as tend to the continuance of every ●ndividual production; so more especially are ●hose Instincts fixed, which tend to the support and preservation of the Species; as 〈◊〉 namely) the act of Generating, and that also of a passionate Concern in every Creature ●owards their young. The power of this ●atter is wonderfully seen in the dissection of a living Bitch with Whelps: for if you but hurt any of the young ones in her sight, she barks, and is greatly disquieted; but if you reach them towards her mouth, she forgets her own condition, and falls with a tender kind●ess to the licking of them in the midst of all her Torments. This strange sight is reported by Realdus Columbus, 
De re anatomicâ, lib. 14.  to have been often exposed by him in the public Theatre at his Anatomical Dissections.  
VIII. HENCE it appears, 
L. 1. c. 12. § 8.  that all the animal Instincts and Impulses do belong to the Region of Nature, and are but imperfect Shadows and Footsteps of the Divine Wisdom and Goodness, which vouchsafes as in this manner to glimmer in the dark. And these are those Rudiments and Primordials, against which, by the help of a more pure and celestial Light, we do contend, as often as they invade the Limits of the superior Law. That is to say, the Intellectual Part of the Soul strives with the Plastic; which, though fiercely abetted and incited by the Spirit of Nature in some certain Desires and Appetites; yet on the other side, a Divine Power is at hand, urging resistance against all such incantatio●… and still asserting a preference to what is 〈◊〉 honourable, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 4.  and simply the best.  
IX. THERE is a witty conceit, though insufficiently grounded, as if the Soul should be fa● penned up in a certain glandulous part of th● Brain, called the Conarion. That this glandulous part being thus animated and defended b● the Soul on the one hand (as in its proper Ga● rison) should on the other be attacked by th● darts and assaults of the Spirits (even as it were some Pigmy that with a Feather or a Twi● were employed in beating of the Winds) and that herein should consist that hostility of the inferior part of the Soul with the superior 〈◊〉 which the Divines call, The War between the Flesh and the Spirit.  
X. HOWEVER, thus much is manifest, that there is within us a certain Principality o● Empire, and that our mind is not a mere solitary Inspector; 
L 1. c. 8. § 2.  but rather as a Regent, which 〈◊〉 attended and fortified with numerous Guards; and does not barely command over its own Passions, but over the Spirit of Nature; so as by a diviner Magic not only to repel, but even vanquish the Temptations and Sorceries thereof.  
XI FROM all which it is further plain, that by the service of the Passions, our Life and our Senses are more dilated, 
L. 1. c. 8. § 3. L. 1. c. 12. § 11.  and also quickened: even as Plato noted in his Phaedrus, That the Affections were as the Wings and the Charits of the Mind.  
XII. DES CARTES also says very happily, that the Passions seem to be a most certain and solid Treasure of the Soul. For although (says he) we are apt to be deceived by the many other ways of Perception, and cannot be certain if things be the same as they are represented; yet as to the Passions, there is not room for Deception in them, since they are so annexed to the Soul, that it were impossible to feel them, if they were not; 
L. 2. c. 9 § 12.  and that they must needs have a Being, inasmuch as they are felt. Hence, by a sense of Virtue ariseth a wonderful Peace and Tranquillity to the Mind; a permanent sweetness and complacency which is never to be repent of. It surmounts not only all those Pleasures which conclude with Repe●…ance, and Bitterness of the Soul; but excels all Opinions and Philosophical Speculations whatsoever. This certainly upon many other accounts is so, besides that main one, that in those matters a man may almost ever be doubting. But in this, which is Passion, and not Opinion, there can be no room for doubt.  
XIII. LAST of all, besides this Use of the Passions (which is almost common to all of them) that they strike, or rather engrave the Soul with a more lively Impression of the Object; there is another use of them deserving notice; as namely, the rating of things that are laudable and just according as we find our Passions excited by them, or as they are felt and relished by a sort of Connexion with our Souls. For passionate affecting is the mo●… intimate and immediate Fruit of Life; an● though we may adorn the best of things with superficial and imaginary approbation, ye● oursouls are not able, without such Passion● to wed the Object, and, as it were, to intermix it with our Sense and Life. Nay, we know not how by any other ways to discover the Union there is between our Souls and those Objects, unless we have an equal antipathy against things vice and ignoble, whether in our self or others. For this is the nature of true Virtue, to love the best things, and hate the worst, even to abhorrence, in whomsoever they appear. Evil in one man is evil in another, and is detestable as being such. And it is the most perfect state of Life, to love good things, and to hate the bad, at least; to bear them with indignation, whenever they are obtruded upon us. For this gives testimony, that the inferior part of the Soul submits, and is overawed by the superior; and that the whole man is as it were in the fiery Chariot of his Affections, Elias-like, carried up towards God and Heaven.  
XIV. BUT if any man shall, under a pretended affectation of Peace, Prudence, or Tranquillity, set up for submitting to any lewd usurpation over the common Rights of Mankind, and the eternal Laws of Virtue; and yet, upon every trivial affront to himself, she out and even burn with indignation and wrath; this were Hypocrisy in such a degree, as not barely to deserve Scorn, but Detestation.  
XV. PASSIONS therefore are not only good, but singularly needful to the perfecting of human life. Yet must they be with these two Conditions. First that our Desires steer towards a proper Object, which may be called, The true Impulse: For those who offend herein are the worst of sinners; such as are the malicious, and those that delight in Blood and Tortures, and others of that strain.  
The second Rule is, That the Desires be adequate to the Object, or the End; and that (according to the thirteenth Noema) the best and greatest things be pursued with our chiefest Passion; the middle things with less; and the lowest with the least. But this also in such sort, as never to allow any such violence in the Desire, as may either eclipse the Light of Reason, or obstruct that end to which Nature aspires, by the help of those Affections wherewith she has endowed our Souls. So that this Rule we may call, A moderate Impulse of the Passions.  
XVI. BUT if any man should propose the rooting up of all Desires, 
L. 1. c. 12. § 9  in order to free the Soul from Discord; and to end all strife and combustion which the Passions maintain against the Soul, or among themselves: This to me would sound no better, than as if one, to prevent Discord on the Harp, should let down all the Strings; or than as if another should with Drugs set all the Humours of his Body in a Ferment, for fear of falling sick. Wherefore Theages the Pythagorean said very elegantly; That it was not the part of Virtue to discharge the Passions of the Soul, such as Pleasure and Pain; but to temper them aright. He also after this extends himself in that double similitude we have mentioned, about a due mixture in the Humours of the Body, and a right Harmony in the tuning of the Strings, which we need not here repeat.  
XVII. BUT what is now to be the Rule and Measure by which the Desires are to be tempered and rectified, the two Conditions  do set forth. And to one of these, that famous Declaration of the Orator may be referred. 
Quaest. Tuscul. lib. 4.  He therefore (says Tully) whoever it be that by Constancy and Moderation is of a quiet Mind, and at peace with himself; who is neither wasted with Troubles, or distracted with Fears, nor burnt up with Thirst of any inordinate Passion, or undoing himself with vain and trivial Delights: This is the wise man whom we long to behold. And he also is the happy Man, to whom nothing can arrive in human Affairs so intolerable, as to depress his mind, or yet so joyful as to transport him. But on the other side, when we see a Man inflamed with Lust, and mad with Ambition, catching at all things with insatiable Avarice, and that the more his Wealth pours in, or his Pleasures abounded, the more ravenous he became: This (saith Tully) is he whom a wise Man would not scruple to pronounce the most unhappy, and the most perverted of all Men.   

CHAP. VII. Of Passions properly so called, according to their kinds.  
I. FORASMUCH as no Man has, in my Opinion, more accurately summed up, or distinctly defined, the several kinds or species of Passions, than the renowned Philosopher Des Cartes; I will tread, for the most part, in his Footsteps, unless upon great Motives to the contrary. But it is not amiss, in the first place, to lay down a larger Definition of Passions, and to apply the same to the kinds thereof, which follow.  
II. PASSION then is a vehement Senfation of the Soul, which refers especially to the Soul itself, and is accompanied with an unwonted motion of the Spirits.  
Here, I say, Passion is rightly called Sensation, since in Passion the Soul is sensible that it suffers; and with Vehemence, because it vehemently suffers. That the Soul itself is said, in this Sensation, especially to suffer, is to distinguish it from other Sensations; whether of Odours, Sounds and Colours, etc. which refer to external Objects; or of Hunger, Thirst, and Pain, etc. which regard our Bodies. Next, I say, that this Sensation is accompanied with the Motion of the Spirits, rather than to say that it results therefrom; inasmuch as the former evermore happens; but this not always, or very seldom, if you but exclude such Motion as results from Eating, Drinking, or the Change of Air. For in external Objects; which agitate the Sense or Imagination, it is the Soul moves the Spirits, and not the Spirits the Soul.  
III. 
De Passion. animae, part. 2. Art. 69.  DES CARTES brings all the Passions of the Soul under six principal and primitive kinds: Namely, Admiration, Love, Hatred, Cupidity, Joy, and Grief. And that they fall naturally into this Order and Distinction does thus appear; For as soon as a new Object, or an old one under new Circumstances, occurs unto us, it stops and entertains our Faculty of Considering: it strains up the Attention beyond its wont pitch, and this is called Admiration. Now because this may so happen, before we comprehend whether such Object will prove grateful or ungrateful to us, it may deservedly be called the very first Passion.  
iv YET after this, when the Soul comes to consider the Object as grateful or ungrateful, (which is the same almost as good or evil) than one of them excites Love, and the other Hatred. But if this Good or Evil be considered by us as remote and future, they kindle in us Cupidity; namely, to join with, and enjoy the first, and to avoid or repel the latter. Both which are by the Schools very properly called Desiderium and Fuga. But lastly, if this Good and Evil be looked upon as present, the first begets Joy, and the other Grief.  
V I WILL not deny but that Des Cartes ●…ad his Reasons thus to enumerate the Passions; however I think I have as sufficient Motives to contract them; 
L. 2. c. 1. §. 1.  and that into the ●hree first, of Admiration, Love and Hatred. For what is Desire but Love, extending itself ●owards future Good? And what is Flight but Hatred, in turning away from the evil at ●and, or at least in fortifying against it? What is Joy but Love, which triumphs in possessing the thing beloved? And what is Grief but Hatred, to be involved and harassed by the present Evil? So that in all these Cases, it is manifest, that either Love or Hatred lies still at the Root.  
VI HENCE it is plain, that the Scholastic Reduction of the Passions to the two Heads, of Irascible and Concupiscible, which the very ●est of the old Philosophers made use of, deserves not to be so contemptuously exploded, if but interpreted aright. Yet here I speak ●ut of those Passions which are properly seated in the Heart, and not in the Brain; where Admiration only (as Des Cartes hath it) does reside. As to the rest they may, in my opinion, be justly enough referred to those words of Pythagoras, which answer to the Schoolmens Irascible and Concupiscible; which, in proper Terms are Concupiscence and Indignation. And this latter is that Emotion of the Soul, by which it testifies wrath against every appearance of what is either evil or ungrateful. Now if herein there be no consideration either of present or future, than it is simple Hatre; if the Evil be impending it is Fight, or else a Cupidity either to resist, or by any expedient to evade it: But if it be actually present, than it is Sorrow, Grief, or Sickness of the Mind; which is nothing else but Indignation to suffer, and to stoop under the Tyranny of an Evil, which cannot be shaken off.  
VII. THE Reason of Concupiscence is the same: which if it be fairly accompanied with the appearance of what is good or grateful, and nothing of Time respected, it is called pure and simple Love. If the Good be looked on as future, it is Cupidity, or else Concupiscence properly so called; but if it be present, than it is Joy or Gladness.  
Yet we must think that it ceaseth to be Concupiscence. For unless somewhat that is nauseous and over-cloying supervenes, the Love we mention is naturally prone to a continuation in its own Estate; so as some Ingredient of Concupiscence will still remain.  
VIII. WHEREFORE it is possible there may only be two principal and primitive Passions, which have their proper Residence in the Heart. They are called by Des Cartes Love and Hatred; by the Schools Irascible and Concupiscible: and by Pythagoras, Lust and Anger; which is somewhat remarkable, as from the Use thereof we may have cause to note.  
IX. HOWEVER, at present, and for a more extended Notion of the Passions, I will follow Des Cartes in his own Order and Distinction, as to the six general kinds . I will therefore first define them, and then subjoin the respective Species unto each.  
Admiration is the first; 
The first Rank of the Passions.  And it is a Passion of the Soul, which is struck with the Novelty of any Object, and attentively engaged in the Contemplaiton thereof.  
Admiration is twofold; the one of Esteem, the other of Despising. Esteem is the admiring of the Magnitude or Value of any Object. But Despising is a contrary Admiration at the Littleness or Despicableness of any Object.  
Hence 'tis understood what is Esteem, or Disesteem of a Man's self; Namely, when a Man dwells affectedly in the Contemplation of his own Dignity, or is fixed with some Resentment on his own Meanness or Disgrace. The Reason is the same either as to Disesteem, or else Regard, for others: The first of which is called Scorning, and the last Veneration. Now Veneration is the Value we set upon a free Agent, that can, as we believe, do us either good or harm; and joined with a desire we have of putting ourselves in subjection to it. But Scorn is a disesteem we put upon a free Agent, which though capable of doing us either good or hurt, yet we judge so meanly of such Agent, as not to be able to put in execution either the one or the other.  
X. IN the second Rank come Love and Hatred.  
Love is a Passion of the Soul, 
The second Rank of the Passions.  by which it is excited willingly to join itself unto Objects which seem grateful thereunto. Yet here by the words. To join itself willingly, is not meant to covet its being joined; for that appertains to Lust: but it is meant with some emotion to acknowledge the thing to be either good or grateful.  
Hatred is a Passion of the Soul, whereby it is incited willingly to separate itself from Objects which seem ingrateful or hurtful thereunto. When he that loves, esteems the Object lesser than himself, it is called simple Inclination, or good Will; where equal to himself, then is it Friendship; and where greater, than Devotion. Love which tends singly towards good things, is called Love; when towards beautiful things, than Complacency.  
Also Hatred, which refers simply to evil things, is called Hatred; if to deformed things, than Aversion or Horror.  
Nor ought we here to forget that noble and natural sort of Love, which the Greeks termed Storge, and which we may call natural Affection; or that of Hatred, called Antipathy.  
XI. 
The third Rank of the Passions.  THE third Classis is Cupidity, with all its Tribe or Offspring.  
Cupidity is a Passion of the Soul, by which it is carried towards good as it is future. And therefore as the Absence of Evil, and the Presence of Good, are both of them good, Cupidity may so far extend to either as they are future. But if any man thinks it more proper, that Cupidity about the last Object should be called Desire, and about the first Flight, I am indifferent. Only this is plain, from what is gone before, that among the sorts of Cupidity, those of them excel which spring up either from Horror, or from Complacency. For nothing kindles Desire so much as Pulchritude or Beauty; and nothing puts sooner to flight, than any horrid Deformity. And the thing which commonly is thought most horrible, is Death.  
XII. TO this Passion of Cupidity, there may first be reduced Hope, Fear, Jealousy, Security and Despair. Then in the next place, Irresolution, Animosity, Boldness, Emulation, Cowardice, and Consternation. The first Sett of these agree in this, that the Object of them all presents itself in the shape of what is easy or difficult; yet without any Dependency of the Event upon ourselves.  
The latter Sett agree in this that the Object of all seems to depend upon ourselves; yet either with difficulty in the choice of Means, whence comes Irresolution; or else in the execution, unto which all the rest refer.  
XIII. HOPE is a Passion of the Soul, by which it is disposed to believe the Event which it desires.  
And Fear is a Passion, by which it is disposed to believe, that what it desires will not happen.  
When Hope excludes all Fear, it is called Security, or Presumption; and Fear, when it shuts out all Hope, Despair. Jealousy is Fear of losing a Good we highly esteem, but grounded upon trivial Causes.  
XIV. IRRESOLUTION is a Fear of erring in the choice of those Means, which are proper to any certain end.  
Animosity is a Passion which disposes the Mind to act manfully, in the execution of whatever it sets about. And if this happen in things that are attended with much danger, it is called Boldness or Daring; if it spring from the Example of what success others have had, than Emulation. But Cowardice is opposed to Animosity, as Consternation is to Daring or Boldness. For Cowardice is a certain feeble cold Passion of the Soul, that hinders her from doing those things, which it were otherwise in her Power to do. Consternation is Cowardice, or Timorousness, accompanied with Trouble and Amazement, which disables the Soul from resisting an Impending Evil.  
XV. 
The 4th. Rank of the Passions.  THE Fourth Classis is Joy and Grief, which have respect to the Good or Evil that is present.  
The Passions, which refer to this Head, are chief distinguished by these Circumstances First barely, in respect to ourselves, or unto others: For present Good, as it regards ourselves, begets Joy, even as present Evil does Grief: And if Evil betides another, who has deserved it, it causes Laughter, but, if he hath not deserved it, than Commiseration. If Good happens to an unworthy Man, there follows Envy; but Good happening to another, and which redounds any way to our Benefit, produceth Congratulation.  
XVI. MOREOVER Good and Evil are considered, in the first place, in respect of the Cause, whether as to ourselves, or unto others: For Good, done by ourselves, begets Satisfaction or Tranquillity of Mind; Evil begets Repentance; but the doing a thing which we doubt whether it be good or evil, begets Remorse of Conscience. However Good, performed by others, begets Favor, although not done to ourselves; but if to ourselves, than Gratitude. So Evil, committed by others, if not done against ourselves, begets Indignation only, but if it touches us, than Anger.  
Again, in respect of the Opinion of others; as the Good, which we enjoy, exciteth Glory in us; so doth Evil, Shame.  
Lastly, in respect of Time. As the Duration of Good begets Satiety, or a Loathing; so the Duration of Evil lessens Grief: but from Good that is past, there arises what is properly called Desire, viz. to enjoy it again; as from Evil that is past, Mirth.  
XVII. JOY is a pleasant Commotion of the Soul; or, a Passion, in which does consist the Fruition of Good; which she regards as her own.  
Grief is an ungrateful Passion of the Soul, in which does consist the Inconvenience of Evil, or of some Deficiency, which she sensibly regards as her own.  
Derision is a Joy, begotten on any slight Mischief happening to one, who is thought to have deserved it. If this be upon very great Grounds, and accompanied with Intentions of open Contempt, it is called Insulting.  
Envy is Grief which ariseth, when Good happens to any that are unworthy of it.  
Commiseration is Grief, when Evil happens to any one who has not deserved it.  
Congratulation is Joy, arising by Good that happens to another, in which we think we are some way concerned.  
Acquiescing, or Self-satisfaction, is of all Joys the most pleasing: and it ariseth from the Opinion of some good Work we have lately performed.  
Repentance is Grief, and the bitterest that can happen, as arising from the Conviction of some Evil committed by us.  
Remorse of Conscience is Grief that ariseth upon doubting, whether what we have done be good or not: For 'tis the effect of Rashness, to attempt any Work, before all Hesitation, or Wavering of the Mind, be quieted.  
XVIII. FAVOR is a sort of cheerful  or Benevolence towards those, with whose Welldoing we are delighted.  
Gratitude is a kind of pleasing desire to do good to them, who have done good unto us.  
Indignation is Grief, that is kindled against those who have done some ill thing.  
Anger is Indignation against those who have done us hurt, and for which we have purpose of Revenge.  
Glory is Joy, which ariseth from Opinion, or from Hope of Praise among Men.  
Shame is Grief that ariseth from the Opinion, or Fear, of Reproach.  
Satiety is Grief that ariseth from the same Cause, from whence Joy did before proceed.  
Desire, properly so called, is Grief upon the Loss of Good, that is never to be recovered.  
Mirth is Joy from the Remembrance of past Evil.  
XIX. THIS is almost the same Enumeration of the Passions that Des Cartes has given us; as well of those which are the primitive ones, as of such as are derivative from them, or else complicated with them: together with the Definitions of all, as near as we could approach unto that eminent Philosopher.  
As to the Complication itself of those Passions that issue from the Primitive, I here omit it for Brevity's sake; as intending elsewhere, and more opportunely, to speak very soon thereunto.  
But for those deep and Natural Causes of such Passions, which lie abstruse and remote; as relating either to the Conarion (before spoken of) or to the Brain; or to certain Motions of the Blood or Spirits; or to the Orifices of the Heart (which are sometimes more dilated, or more contracted;) or else to the Nerves of the Bowels and Stomach; or to the Spleen and Liver; or, finally, to the Heart itself. I do willingly and knowingly pass them allby; as well for other Reasons, as chief, that they rather belong to Natu● Philosophy, than to Moral. Yet far be it fro● me to say, that the Effects, the Uses, and 〈◊〉 Ends of Passions do not appertain to Ethics For I should rather affirm, that the knowledge of those things is a very choice and estimable part thereof.   

CHAP. VIII. The Use and Interpretation of the Possions; and first of Admiration, with all in that Classis: and of the other five Primitive Passions.  
I. AS to what concerns the Ends and Uses of the Passions, it will not be amiss to pursue them a little larger, and faithfully to interpret the Voice of Nature in them all, as far as we are able. For it is not of small moment towards knowing how Passions are rightly to be moderated and used (which surely in Virtue is the greatest part) if we observe the end unto which Nature, or rather God, who is the Parent of Nature, has destined each of them: as also at what Rate he himself esteems his Works, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 6. L. 1. c. 12. § 12.  or would have them esteemed by others. For these Natural and Radical Affections, are not from ourselves, as being the result of free Thinking or Speculation; nor are they to be acquired by Methods, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 6.  but are really in us antecedent to all Notion and Cogitation whatever. For they are, by God, whom we call Nature's Parent, given and implanted in us, as early as Life itself: such I mean, as are in particular the pleasure of Eating and Drinking; which Nature, doubtless, bestowed upon all living Creatures, not only for the Conservation of Life, and Continuance of Health, but as a grateful Exercise of the Faculties of Life. Whence it clearly follows, that nothing should rashly or causelessly be killed; nor should we so far indulge the Pleasure of Eating and Drinking, as to lose the end of that Pleasure, and bring upon ourselves Diseases and Death.  
II. AND this is the very thing the Pythagoreans advised; Namely, To terminate what is undetermined. For what they called undetermined, or unbounded, they placed in the Passions; and it was in Virtue and Reason that they placed their Boundaries or Determination. Thus Nature has been the more liberal in bestowing such sort of Affections on us, that Reason might be trusted with a Power to lessen, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 10.  moderate, and circumscribe, all that is superfluous. And perhaps the Soul, itself, is not so wholly intent on her proper intellectual Pleasure, as totally to neglect the animal Life. From whence we see, it is a kind of serious and settled design of Nature, that this animal Station should never be abandoned by the Mind of Man. However these Touches are but here by the By, as to those Affectio●… which relate to the Body. Wherefore we shall turn back to the Passions properly ●…called, and consider their Ends and Uses, i● that order which we before proposed.  
III. FIRST then as to Admiration, 'tis plain, 
Lib. 1. c. 6. § 11.  that it more vigorously imprints in our Memories the observation of new things and Ideas; whereby, the Soul being enriched by such Acquisition, we may attain the Knowledge of most Beneficial Truths. And hence it follows, that if any Man be taken up with the Contemplation of new Things, for no other end than for Admiration-sake; he plainly loses the end of this Passion, and becomes a mere Admirer. For seeing Nature has given us the Power and Inclination to esteem, or to despise; it appears thereby that all things are not to be placed by us in the same Rank. And as in the kinds of every thing, there is a better and a worse: so certainly is there something which is the very best of all; and which by the Dictates of Nature, we are bound to aspire unto.  
iv THE Esteem of a Man's self is a Passion, mixed of Admiration, Joy, and Love, of his own Condition: But the Disesteem of a Man's self is from Admiration, Grief, and Self-love, which is mixed with Hatred for his own Defects. Each of these Passions make out, that every Man either is, or aught to be, of some Consideration; nay, so to be reputed of, as to be above all Injury and Contempt. For seeing we are so easily led to think well of ourselves, when perhaps we have very small Advantage of our Neighbours; certainly it is but just that we carry some Esteem also towards others, so as to treat them with all Officiousness and Candour. Wherefore even Nature points out, by these Passions of Esteem and Disesteem, how we are to exercise Humanity and good Breeding towards others; as well as Diligence and Application in getting what is most beneficial to ourselves.  
V As to that sort of valuing a Man's self, which Des Cartes calls Generosity, whereby a Man does, in the Freedom and Sincerity of his Judgement, so account of himself as, while he steadily aims at virtuous things, 
L. 1. c. 11. § 10.  and wants no Courage to enterprise what Reason dictates, he will endure no sort of Contempt. Doubtless the Use of this Passion (so implanted by Nature) is of highest Pre-eminence, as it proves a Spur to the procurement of the highest Felicity. For who can be more corroborated against the Scorns of Men, or the Shocks of Fortune, than he who has Conscience on his side, that his Actions have been sincere.  
VI VENERATION is a Passion complicated of Admiration and Fear. The Utility thereof is referable to Politic Bodies and Religious Societies: it implies that Obedience is due to Magistrates; and that there is such a Being as God, and such a Government as the Divine Providence.  
Disdaining is made up of Admiration, and of Security, or Confidence. This Passion is not altogether unprofitable to the Peace and Acquiescence of the Mind, inasmuch as it suffers not Virtue or Truth to be abandoned, either on the Threats, or on the Temptations of impotent Men. Such was the Contempt of Socrates towards Anytus and Melitus, when he let them know, That although they had Power to kill, they had not the Power to hurt him.  
VII. FOR what concerns the five following Primitive Passions, as Love, Hatred, Joy, Grief, and Cupidity. The Use of these is most manifest. And the first four end always in the Fifth; for whatever falls out grateful, excites Joy or Pleasure; and Pleasure, when felt, draws Love towards that which excited it: And, last of all, Love makes Cupidity, for the increasing, continuing, and sometimes repeating, of the same Delight.  
'Tis in like sort, when any thing happens that is ungrateful, it begets Sadness and Grief; and this Grief again begets Hatred for that which was the Cause thereof; and that Hatred a Cupidity to get free from such Cause. And 'tis in these things alone that the Safety and Preservation of all living Creatures does in a manner consist. Also 'tis worthy of Note, that these Passions which are the most ungrateful, such as Grief and Hatred, do not perform less of this Duty than the most grateful: for that our Life is no less harassed by the Evils that lie upon us, than from the Want of those Benefits which should advantage us.  
VIII. IT is plain, that Nature seems more solicitous to drive away Evil, than to partake of Pleasure. And this appears in those efficacious sorts of Eloquence, she has bestowed on so many of the Creatures when they are oppressed, for the drawing of Compassion towards them. Such is the querulous and lamenting tone of the Voice, the dejection of the Eyes and Countenance, Groaning, Howling, Sighs, and Tears, and the like. For all these have Power to incline the Mind to Compassion, whether it be to quicken out Help, or to retard the Mischiefs we intended.  
IX. NOR is Nature wanting altogether in that part, which concerns the procuring of Pleasure. For every motion of the Eyes and Countenance, when we are pleased, is much more welcome and agreeable to the Looker's on: And even this small Effect of our Joy is by Nature instituted, as a Bait or Allurement, to draw on mutual Complacency, and to create a desire towards the Contentation of each other. Just as those former Effects of Sorrow were to dehort us from afflicting any, who deserved it not, but rather to melt us, and push us on, to a timely succour of all who are oppressed.  
But forasmuch as excessive Joy does sometimes bring on what they call Ecstasy, and even swooning away: I know not if Nature does not hint hereby, that our Souls are capable of greater Pleasure, as well as Felicity, than our present corporeal and terrestrial State can bear, or is able to support.  
Wherefore as to Love and Hatred, Grief and Joy, the Interpretation of them is this, That we do, as much as in us lies, purchase Good to ourselves and others; Next, that we hurt no Man, but on the contrary drive away Evil most industriously and affectionately from others as well as ourselves.  
X. ALL Diligence is animated by Cupidity, which is the most Mercurial and awakened Passion, and which agitates the Heart with more violence than any other Affection. It sends up a greater quantity of Spirits to the Brain, which diffusing themselves again into the Members of the Body; not only render it more active and more vigorous, but the Soul also is hereby drawn in, and concurs in a grateful and cheerful Vivacity. For the Soul, if it want suitable Entertainment or Objects that are worthy of it, is but too apt to rust, and grow Lethargic; even as the Lord Bacon has somewhere truly admonished, That the Life of Man, without a proposed End, is altogether lose or languishing.  
However if we would rightly govern, and make use of, this Cupidity to good purpose; let us beware, that it fly not to Objects that are without our reach, or more impetuously to those within it, than our Health and the Frailty of our Condition can bear. For to make more haste after things within our Power, than will consist with our Strength or Ability, is but attempting things that are plainly impossible. So that such unadvised Cupidity would end rather in Sorrow and Vexation, than in Contentment.  
Lastly, since 'tis so manifest, what the end of Cupidity is; Namely, to excite Vigour in the Execution of our Purposes: this Passion must wholly be laid by, till we are just on the Borders of acting what by Counsel we have resolved. For else this Ardour (and especially in weak Constitutions) would not only be useless, but by inflaming the Spirits, would exhaust our strength, dry the whole Body, and overthrow our Health.   

CHAP. IX. The Use and Interpretation of Love and Hatred; which are in the Second Classis.  
I. AMONG the Sorts or Species of Love, there is principally to be considered; not only Devotion and Complacency, but what the Greeks call Storge (which is that strong Intercourse of Filial Parental Sympathy, that is founded in the Bowels of Nature.) So likewise, in the sorts of Hatred, there is to be observed Horror and Antipathy.  
By Devotion we are taught, as by a lo● Exhortation of Nature, to believe that ther● is something which ought to be more dear 〈◊〉 us than ourselves, and for which we should not scruple to lay down our Lives. The Us● therefore of this Passion refers chief to P● lity and Religion; neither of which can b● without Virtue. So that for the true Use o● this Passion we are accountable to our Prince our Country, and to our Religion: That i● to say, unto God and true Virtue. Whence it follows, that those, who place the highe●… Wisdom in Self preservation, and as preferable at all times to all other things, do sin against the Light of Nature.  
II. BY Complacency, and by Horror, we are admonished, that there are some things Beautiful, and some Deformed; much contrary to the sordid Opinion of those, who laugh at all Distinctions. Nay, their Raillery extends to the placing of this Indifferency, even in Vice and Virtue: Whereas Virtue, for the most part, is but a mere Symmetry of the Passions, in reference to their Degrees and Objects. Just as Beauty itself is made up from a due proportion in the external Parts; and then animated by a Decorum in the Motion and Direction of the whole. Which, in a manner, is the same thing that Tully noted in the Fourth Book of his Tusculane Questions. 
Lib. 4.  For as in the Body, (says he) there is a certain apt Figuration of the Members, with a sweetness of Color. All which we call Beauty; so in the Mind, an equability and constancy in our Opinions and Judgements, joined to such a firmity and settledness in them, as we make to be the consequence of, or even the substance of Virtue, this also is declared beautiful.  
Wherefore this Natural Complacency, and Natural Horror, aught to spur us on to the Love of Virtue, and an Aversation to Vice: For one is the most charming, as the oath the most deformed thing in the World.  
III. BUT the more peculiar Intent of that Complacency, which is commonly called Love, refers to the Propagation of Children. Which Passion, if it be more importunate than the rest, it shows the Care and Anxiety of Nature to preserve and continue the Race of Mankind. And Nature is herein so solicitous, so artificial, and useth such clandestine Feats of Negromancy and Prearication, as if she would rather pass for an Inchantress, or even a Mountebank, than want sufficient Allurements to that end. But forasmuch as the Intention of this Ardour is made so conspicuous (as before) we are thereby admonished how far to restrain it, and with what Circumspection to put all due Boundaries thereunto.  
IU. WHEREFORE as this Love has reference to Propagation; so Storge, or Natural Tendirness, referreth chief to Children that are begot. And if more of the Storge appear in Parents, than what is reciprocal; it shows, this Passion is implanted by Nature, a others, to a greater Degree, or a less, suitable to the Use or Want there may be thereo●. For there is greater Utility and Need of th● Parents Affection towards their Children than of the children's towards the Parent; so these excel the other in good Counsel and o●ther Aids; and it more rarely happens tha● Parents stand in need of their Children, th●… Children of their Parents. From hence a 〈◊〉 we may take Instruction how to govern an● attemperate this Passion; so as neither by excess of Indulgence to hurt the Living, or 〈◊〉 unprofitable Lamentations to over-bewail th● Dead.  
V IN the last place, Antipathy (which 〈◊〉 a sort of Hatred, though from Causes more o● cult) is thus far of Use, that we are, by som● private Sentinel, admonished to stand off where Nature has planted between us and an● other, an unaccountable Dissension. But if th● happen to be exercised against a good Man we are then to suspect ourselves, and th● the Evil lies at our own Door. In which Case, we are to contend, if possible, to mak● him our Friend, as venturing or losing nothing by it, unless some defect or infirmity of our own.   

CHAP. X. The Use and Interpretation of the Passions of the Third Classis, which fall under the Head of Cupidity.  
I. THE Kind's and Species of Cupidity are, in the First Rank, Hope, Fear, Jealousy, Security, and Despair: In the next are Irresolution, Animosity, Courage, Emulation, Cowardice, and Consternation.  
II. HOPE is compounded of Joy and Cupidity; Fear of Cupidity, and somewhat of Grief: For Imagination is, according to Aristotle, a sort of a feeble Sense; but 'tis a sense of things present, even as Grief and Joy. For Events are present to the Mind, although really not yet happened: And therefore they are both present and absent, and may be as well the Objects of Joy, or of Grief, as of Cupidity.  
The Use of Hope is to have Delight in acting; and of Fear to proceed with Circumspection and Diligence.  
III. BUT there is a more especial Use of this last Passion, which referreth to Political Matters: For, seeing the greatest part of Men are wicked; scarce any City could stand, if, by the Dread of Punishment, they were not kept in awe.  
iv JEALOUSY is compounded of Cupidity, Sorrow, and Estimation. It's prope● Use is found in the Care and Defence o● Things, which are of greatest Account. Wherefore to make show of it upon trivial Occasions, is but mean and ridiculous.  
V IT appears plain, from what has been said, which are the Passions that enter into the Composition of Security and Despan● since Security is nothing else but Hope discharged of all Fear, and Despair is Fear destitute of all Hope. The Use of the First is against all Care and Diligence that is superfluous. And the Use of the latter to withdraw the Mind from Designs unlikely to succeed, unto those which are more auspicious, and of easy success.  
VI IRRESOLUTION is compounded of Cupidity and Grief: The Use whereof to avoid Error in our Choice. For the Vexation, which naturally attends it, does plain● prove, how one thing is much preferable 〈◊〉 another; how we are to be extreme watchful in discovering what is the best, and what tends most to the obtaining, and the retaishing thereof: and finally, that we propose some such settled Rules and Determination for the conduct of Life, as are never to be departed from.  
VII. ANIMOSITY, and Courage are both of them compounded out of Cupidity, Joy and Grief: yet herein the Joy does much exceed the Grief; for that Grief, which ariseth from danger in the Object, is trampled down by some excellency in the Object, which out-weight the Danger; and Joy takes place, from an assurance of gaining the end. The principal Use of this Passion is, in descending owned Prince and Country from their Enemies; 〈…〉 hearing testimony to Truth with the atmost had ai●… of this mortal State: that so we may ●…ap either immor●tal Glory, or Life eternal.  
VIII. EMULATION is compounded of Cupidity, Joy and Esteem. The Use and Force hereof is seen in famous Examples of Virtue, unto whose Imitation Nature does by this Passion invite us.  
Cowardisei or Pusillanimity, seems to be a compound of Cupidity, Hope, Fear and Esteem, but of the so in a very low degree. The principal use of this refers to Objects which 〈◊〉 sin truth but of a poor Account, whatever some others may think to the contrary.  
Consternation is made up from a vast Admiration, Cupidity and Sorrow. And it seems to be a sort of Schooling or Reprehension cast on us by Nature, for abandoning that presence of Mind, with which we ought always to be girded, against the Surprises and Incursions of all Fortune. The use and signification hereof is much the same with that of Irresolution; that, by well casting of all things beforehand, we may be in full account what is to be done, and what to be suffered, in every case, and how to maintain ourselves within the just limits of both.  
IX. IT seems further more to intimate an● admonish us, that there is in Nature so● horrid and stupendous danger, lying hid, and to be expected; which is the proper Object of this Passion, and against which we ought always to be provided. But whether this may be every Man's particular Death, or the Dissolution of the Universe (of which the wisest Men and Philosophers have spoken, as well as Poets,) 
Si fractus illabatur Orbis  
Impavidos feriant ruinae.  
Were the World's Frame in Ruins laid,  
They'd be oppressed, but not afraid.   
'Tis probable, that none will be so well prepared against these Shocks, as those, unto whom Nature herself owes a reward for their true Sincerity and Innocence.  
And thus much for the Passions of the Third Classis.   

CHAP. XI. The Interpretation and Use of Joy and Grief, which constitute the Fourth Classis.  
●. THE Passions of this Rank are first, Derision, Commiseration, Envy, Congraulation; Next, Satisfaction, Repentance, Renorse of Conscience; as also, Favor, Gratitude, indignation, Anger: Thirdly, Glory, and ●hame: Lastly, Loathing, Desire, and Mirth.  
II. THE Use of Derision is chief applied ●o the Correction of smaller Faults in the ill Manners and Absurdities of human Life.  
From this Fountain sprung up Satirical Poetry, even as from the Effects of Love and Courage, came the Epic and the Tragic. Nor ●oes satire so much pursue Vice itself, as it ●oes the Circumstances thereof, which are the most ridiculous.  
Derision is compounded of Joy and Hatred; ●nd if the Evil, which is the Object of it, happen on asudden, it produces Laughter. But ●he Object of Laughter, as Aristotle somewhere observes, must be such a kind of Evil ●s is not deadly, or destructive. And therefore this may frequently happen where there ●s no intention of Hatred: For it may fall out ●o be only a Congratulation, or sort of Gladness, that the Evil was not great; 〈◊〉 that it also was quickly, as well as dextero●… overcome.  
III. IN such Cases the Object of Derision 〈◊〉 good; and in some measure even where 〈◊〉 Evil is not overcome. That is to say, where 〈◊〉 thing cannot be put into the same state aga●… and provided that the damage be not very considerable; For a light Evil may pass for a G●… For seeing there is such frailty and muta●lity in matter, and such a propensity there●… to great aund unfortunate mutations: La●…ter seems but as the Voice of Nature, congtulating with itself, that Evils which mi●… have been so heavy have by the Providen●… of God, proved to be but light and tolerab●… Inconveniences. So this being judged a Deliverance, it cannot but end in Mirth. However as to some sad Objects; as to those 〈◊〉 Fools and mad Folks; if there be any Ma●… that can please himself with their Absurdity and Rave, 'tis to be doubted, (and it draw Jealousy on him) he has not reverence 〈◊〉 enough for a sound Mind. For else such 〈◊〉 Spectacle should disquiet him no less, that i● he saw the Carcase of any dead Man miserably rend in pieces before him.  
iv COMMISERATION is made up o● Love and Sorrow. The Use hereof is in soccoring the distressed, and defending him tha● has right. For to take away the Life of a●… innocent Man, is so monstrous a Crime, a● tears the very Bowels of Nature, and force sighs from the Breasts of all Men.  
Envy is compounded of Sorrow and Hatred. And the Use thereof refers chief to a right Distribution of Rewards and of Honours. For this Passion is not that ill Vice, which all Men so justly reprove; but an excellent Disposition of the Mind given by God. And Aristotle calls it Nemesis, on the account of a Just Distribution to every Man. And in his Rhetoric he says, As 'tis the proper Office of a good Man to compassionate those who suffer unjustly; so is he to envy, and to disdain such as prosper without a cause. He adds, Whatever exceeds Merit, is unjust; 
Lib. 2. c. 9  whence Indignation, in this behalf, is even attributed to the Gods. But this, and that Envy which we speak of, is but the same Passion. So that from these two of Commiseration and Envy, we are admonished, as by the Voice of Nature, that there is a just and an unjust, a right and a wrong; and that the first is to be taken, and the other left.  
V CONGRATULATION is composed of Love and Joy. And it may serve as a Spur unto common Beneficence. For to him, who is frequent in this Virtue, there is due from all Men a Congratulation of his Prosperity.  
Satisfaction, or Self-contentedness, as also Repentance, and Remorse of Conscience, do all plainly contribute to the preserving a good Conscience. They also manifestly show, that there is a difference between the Works of good and evil Doers, and that Men are endowed with Free Will. For this Satisfaction and Acquiescing, is tantamount to a joyful Applause, or Acclamation of the Soul, from 〈◊〉 Conscience of Welldoing. And certain●… such Passion would be altogether vain, a●… misplaced, if there were not really a right way and a wrong. Tho we must confe●… that most Men are most grossly mistaken about the Object of this Passion; and in valuing themselves upon those very Works, for which in Justice they deserve to be defamed.  
VI OF this Madness there is not a greater instance than what Des Cartes himself lay● in our view, 
De Pass. Anim. part. 3. Art. 119.  of certain superstitious Hypocrites, who, because they go often to Church, repeat many Prayers, shave their Heads, abstain from some Meats, give Alms, and the like; take themselves to be so very perfect, that whatever is suggested to them by their Passion, sounds like the Voice of Heaven. So that if this Passion suggest the betraying of Towns, killing of Princes, and rooting out whole Nations; they think they have Call enough for it, and even Ground sufficient for such Executions and such Passions, if other Men but differ from them in Matters of mere Opinion.  
VII. NOW for what relates to Repentance. If it were so, that all things are done by Necessity, than all Grief upon inward conviction of Sin, would look as ridiculous, as if a Clown should repent that he was not born Noble; or if a Woman should be afflicted that she was not born a Man. The same Reason holds as to Remorse of Conscience, which plainly shows, that, if we err in our Election, 'tis our own fault, and that it was in our power to have chosen better.  
Favor also, and Indignation, signify almost the same: For these Passions grow up in us, as we regard the Actions of Men, some doing right, and some doing wrong.  
VIII. BUT Gratitude seems to be a natural or essential part of commutative Justice; even as Commiseration, Envy, Favor and Indignation, may be reputed the natural parts of distributive Justice: But Anger may take place in this Rank above the rest. For Revenge is a high part of that Justice, which calls for Chastisement: and Aristotle says, that the Pythagoreans did chief place this in Retaliation. For Anger contributes as much towards Fortitude, as either Boldness or Animosity. And it was the saying of Theages, That Anger, and covetous Desire, were so intended for the service of the Soul, as if the first were to be its Guard, and a sort of Sentinel to the Body; the other a fit Caterer or Steward for things that were of use. He also compares this latter to a Providore, and the other to a Soldier. For that Anger is a Passion composed of Hatred, of Cupidity, and of Self-love; and so is directly opposite to Gratitude, just as Indignation unto Favor. And Des Cartes observes, that Anger exceeds the other three; as the Desire of Repelling what is noxious, and the taking of Revenge, is more vehement upon us than any other thing.  
IX. NOR ought we to dread this Passion the more, because it is mixed with Hatred● For all the Passions which belong to the Iras●ble Faculty of the Soul are very useful and necessary; 
L. 1. c. 6. § 8.  seeing it doth more concern us to resist Evil, than to enjoy unnecessary Good. Wherefore he who disposeth himself to obey the Motions of the concupiscible part of h●… Mind, out of a specious pretence of Peace and of a charitable sweetness which we ow● to others, let him have a care, lest at the same time he betrays not the Piety which he owes to God, to his Country, and to the rest of Mankind. For he who altogether lays aside this Irascibility, is either false or effeminate, and can never deserve the Character of being what Theages calls An able Guard, and a faithful Champion of Virtue.  
As to Glory, and Modesty, or Shame, they are things of excellent use: For the first spu●… on to high Attempts, and the latter so dete●… us from what is vile, that it may pass as it were for a Citadel or Bulwark to Virtue. Glory is made up of Joy, and Self-estimation; Modesty, or Shame, of Sorrow, and Self-love, yet also mixed with Self-distrust: so as this Passion does not belong either to the best or worst sort of Men. 
L. 1. c. 8. § 5.  For whoever is conscious that he does, with a generous , devote himself to laudable things, knows also that he deserves not for so doing to fall into Contempt: And therefore if the Revilers shoot at him, he has Fortitude of Mind to scorn a● them again. But, on the other side, when wicked Men grow shameless, and become scandal-proof, 
Tusculan. Quaest. l. 4.  then are they perfectly dangerous: For Tully observed, That to bear Ignominy without sorrow, was even to arrogate a Commission to do evil.  
XI. WHEREFORE these two Passions of Shame and Glory are easily understood: For both of them make out, that we must rather abide by the common Opinion of others, than by our own. And this contributes not a little, as well to good Manners, as to our civil Obedience: for we are instructed by this Instinct of Nature, that no particular Man is to violate the Laws, 
Rhetor. l. 1. cap. 1.  or oppose his single Judgement to the public. Aristotle says, in his Rhetoric; That Law is the public Sense, and Opinion of the whole People, and made for instruction in all Cases and Events. And Cicero, speaking also of Modesty, appeals to that very Shame, which some Pleasures are naturally attended withal: Which, plainly detecting their Vileness, shows that they should be rejected and contemned by Men, who are born to nobler things.  
XII. BUT seeing we are still thus governed by these two Instincts of Shame and Glory; and yet behold the whole Bulk of the World, how they magnify that which is debauched and vile: we may from thence presume a time will come, in which Mankind shall live to better purposes, that is, more regularly and correct.  
However as things now go, let us contend that neither Shame on the one hand, or popular Fame on the other, seduce or drive us from what is substantially just: For this would utterly subvert the Intention of those Gists. And therefore in all Actions, let your Appeal be to the Judgment-Seat of a good Conscience; and if we are but well attested from thence, let the Sparks of the World railly on; and the whole Crowd reproach us: For, in such case, 'tis perfect Heroism to despise them both. Furthermore let those take Shame upon them that deserve it; not the Well-doers, nor such as are even content to suffer for doing well. For Virtue (as Tully saith) 
Tusculan. Quaest. l. 2. Tusculan. Quaest. l. 4.  and even Philosophy herself, must be contented with a few Judges. The Mobile was ever spiteful and invidious to both, and therefore both have industriously declined all Appeals unto them. Let us therefore, as he advises us, despise all the Follies of Men, and place the force of living well, in the strength and greatness of our Minds, and in the Contempt of this World: and in a word let us believe it to consist in Truth and Virtue, notwithstanding the vain and mistaken Opinions of a great part of Mankind.  
XIII. LASTLY, as to what concerns Loathing, Mirth, and Desire. The Benefit of Loathing has Reference unto Temperance; for we usually loathe that which we take in excess: And we take notice how much a repeated Use of all corporeal things, turns into loathing at last. Hence we may be admonished to raise up our Minds to things intellectual, and to place our thoughts upon God.  
As for Mirth, the Use thereof refers to Patience: For we ought to suffer Hardships the more willingly, as they will at length be compensated with greater Joy. So Aeneas cheered up his Friends in Distress, 
Durate, & vosmet rebus servate secundis.  
— Bear up, and patiently endure,  
In time our better Fate will bring the Cure.   
XIV. DESIRE is compounded of Sorrow, Love, Despairir, and Cupidity. The Use and Benefit hereof is, to give an edge to our Diligence, in preserving what we have, since the loss thereof would turn to our Vexation. The Force of this Passion is chief felt in the ●oss of Friends; the Death of those who excel in Beauty, or in the Talents of the Mind, or who have eminently served in their Generation. So Horace, 
Horat. l. 1. Ode 24.  
Quis desiderio sit Pudor aut Modus  
Tom chari Capitis? Praecipe lugubres  
Cantus, Melpomene, cui liquidam Pater  
Vocem cum Cithara dedit.  
— Sound out, Melpomene,  
And tune thy doleful Melody.  
Come, let our Sorrows boundless be,  
'Twere shame to think of Modesty,  
When we must weep, great Man, for thee.   
XV. IT was this Passion that, world upon mournful and tender Minds, ●…structed them in the ways of Fun●… Pomp; and by Songs of Lamentation, ●…gies, and Orations, to pepetuate the Mem●… of the Dead. Nay, it brought things to 〈◊〉 pitch of Madness at last (worse than M●…tality itself) that Temples, Altars, and eve● Prayers, were consecrated to the Dead: 〈◊〉 if those, who but just now ceased to be M●… were presently transformed into Gods. T●… have they branded, by vile Superstition 〈◊〉 Idolatry, our mortal State; which was 〈◊〉 utmost Abuse this Passion was capable of, 〈◊〉 could be employed unto.   

CHAP. XII. That all Passions (properly so called) 〈◊〉 in themselves Good; and that from right Interpretation of them, 'tis ma●fest, there is something Good and 〈◊〉 in its own Nature. And lastly, to 〈◊〉 what such Nature or Essence of Good a● Bad can be.  
I. IT appears by what has been said, th●… not only the Passions we have spoke of, but all the rest of them, which are properly so called, are Good. Also that inwa●… Propensity, and strong Inclinations, are not ●hings of Deliberation and Choice; But, as The●ges says) the very Strokes and Prints of Nature, where Virtue is implanted in us by a sort of Impulse or Enthusiasm. 
Magn. Moral. l. 2. cap. 8.  And Aristotle notes, That the way of Enthusiasm is to be hurried 〈◊〉 to action, without any motives of Reason. Wherefore seeing such Propensities are antecedent to aull Choice or Deliberation, 'tis manifest they are from Nature and from God; and that therefore whatever they ●ictate as Good and Just, is really Good and Just: and we are bound to embrace and prosecute the same, not only towards ourselves, but towards others; I mean as far as may consist without any injury to a third.  
II. FOR this Law of Nature, which bears sway in the animal Region, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 6, 8.  is a sort of confused Muttering, or Whisper of a Divine Law: but indeed the Voice of it is more clear and audible in the intellectual State. And whereas in that inferior Region, the Case is often so uncertain, and so undecided, as to resemble what the Civilians call Casus omissus; therefore are we obliged frequently to appeal to the Tribunal of Reason, and to consult about Time, Place, and Proportion, and such other Circumstances as our Actions are subjected unto. For Reason has this pre-eminence, that it does not only more distinctly judge, but more abstractedly, than what the Animal Light, or any Law of the Passions, can pretend to. 'Tis more distinct, as it can penetrate and examine into the Original an● Circumstances of Things; whereas Pass●… is only a blind and determinate Impulse, 〈◊〉 do so or so, without knowing any Motive 〈◊〉 it. Also 'tis more abstracted, and by Nature separate: For Reason does not dicto● what may be Good for this or that particular Person, but what simply is good or better and what in such and such Circumstance ought to be more or less preferable.  
III. FOR this is thetrue Character of every intellectual Faculty (as was noted before that it cannot stoop, and as it were cringe to particular Cases; but speaks boldly an● definitively what is true and good unto all And hence 'tis plain, that whatever is intellectual and truly Moral, is also Divine, and partakes of God. And this made Arist●th style the Divinity, A Law that looked round and had the same uniform Aspect towards every side.  
IU. HOW unadvised therefore have some been to say, every thing was lawful, that Passion did persuade; and to style this a sort of Divine and Intellectual Document, and while taken abstractedly, and in the general to contend for it, as a very principal Rule of human Actions: whereas none, but such as are mere Slaves unto Passion, can ever think at this Rate. This has been hatched under the Wings of Appetite, not of Reason: For to establish such a Doctrine of human Actions, as must subvert all Actions, is quite irrational.  
V WOULD it not from such a Principle follow, that every Man might, at his Pleasure, not only fire his own House in the Night, but the Town also? Might he not poison the common Well, or maim and destroy his Wife and Children, if it were lawful to sacrifice to his own Passion? So that this Foundation being against Nature, and utterly pernicious, it plainly follows, that no Man's private Inclinations are the Measures of Good and Evil; but that the Inclinations themselves are to be circumscribed by some Principle which is superior to them.  
VI NOW the next Principle, unto which Passion is subjected, and which knows what in every Case is good and bad, is right Reason: And therefore that which to Right Reason appears good or bad, ought certainly to be reputed as such in its own Nature. For what a rectified Mind takes in, is really the Essence of the thing itself, painted in the Understanding: and so a Triangle, in its own Nature, is nothing else but what Right Reason conceives to be such.  
VII. HENCE it plainly follows, that there are some unchangeable Ideas or Impressions of Good and Evil, even as of Figures in the Mathematics; and that the Mind judges of those, as much as Sense does of these: Yet Reason and the Intellect have Jurisdiction over both. For as those are made up by the Concurrence of several Lines; so are these made up of various and often contrary Circumstances; which therefore denominate some things to be Good, and some things to be Evil. And this confirms what has been said, that the Principle, whereby to judge what is either morally good or evil, is an Intellectual Principle, and in some sort Divine.  
VIII. THIS hinders not, but that we must allow there is something also, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 8.  little less than Divine, which presides in the Animal Law (for this Law has also its Source from Nature, and from God the Parent of Nature) so that we may evermore follow the Indications and Dictates of that Law; unless in such Cases, where Reason admonisheth that something may be done, that is better and more advantageous. And if this one point be but granted (which no reasonable Man will deny) you will presently find numberless Instances of those things, which in their own Nature may be termed just or unjust, vile or honest; which, by reflecting on those principal signs of the Passions already mentioned, will occur unto you. For surely those things are, in their own Nature just, or unjust, vile or honest, which the Voice of God in Nature has declared to be such. And this Corollary is of high value in human Life; and able to trample upon the Impudence o● those, who cry up all things for lawful, which they themselves think fit.  
IX. 
L. 1. c. 6. § 2. L. 1. c. 6. § 16.  NEVERTHELESS we do not pretend, in the least, to have the Passions of the Mind exterminated. We rather account of them (which before was noted) as of the very Organs of the Body, and as distinctly useful: since they are not only the occasion of several Virtues, but the true Characters and Images of Virtue, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 11.  are made the more resplendent by them. Wherefore if we can but skill our Passions aright, They are as Lamps or Beacons, to conduct and excite us to our Journey's end. For though Reason may cry aloud; yet we walk without Legs, and fly without Wings, if we are not quickened by their Instigations. Hence we may reflect, that Theages was not so much out of the way in saying, That Virtue had its original from the Passions, and did associate with them, and was preserved by them. For the principal part of Virtue is placed in their due Commixture; So as no man (he says) ought either to be void of Passion, or too highly excited by it. For as Insensibility lays a damp on that Torrent and Enthusiasm of the Soul, by which 'tis pushed forward towards things which are noble and great: so too much emotion discomposes the Mind; and the Understanding is damnified by it.  
X. WHEREFORE let us close all with the Counsel of Archytas the Pythagorean. Contend (says he) to procure the Use of your Passions in such Moderation, as you may equally shun to appear insensible, or in too high an Agitation: for this often leads to prouder Attempts than our weak Nature can support. Surely this Temperament sounds better than what the Stoics, and even some Platonists, do present us with. And let it never be forgot, that we are no longer to retain our Passions, than as they administer to those ends, for which by Nature they are intended.  
And thus much of the Passions, which are properly styled such.   

CHAP. XIII. Of the other Passions, or Bodily Impressions.  
I. FOR what concerns the Residue of Corporeal Impressions, the kinds thereof may, in a manner, be referred to these two Classes. Namely, to 

1. Sensation, Imagination, the particular Temperament of the Body, and to Custom.  
2. Or to Education, to a singular Genius, or to a particular Fancy.    
The Impressions of the first Classis agree in this, that they appear without any Appetite properly so called. But those of the second are attended with some proper Appetite.  
By Sensation is here meant, not the very Act of Feeling, which is the true meaning of the Word; but rather a Stain, or that perverse Byass and Propensity to error, which it imprints on the Soul. And so almost of all the rest.  
II. WHEREFORE Sensation is defined, To be a certain corporeal Impression, by which the Soul is prevailed on to believe, that things are such in their own Natures, as they appear to our external Senses. As if a man, finding somewhat that was grateful to his own Taste, should straight conclude, that the same Pleasure and Sweetness were in the thing itself; and therefore that it must equally gratify the Taste of all other Creatures. We see the same Fallacy obtruded in the Objects of Sight; when a Man shall conclude, that the Light and Colors, which are taken in by the Eye, are also in the things themselves: which is no more true than that Stones feel pain, which wound the bare Feet of those that run over them; or that, when a Man's Hand is burnt by a Coal, that the Coal also should have sense of such Burning. For 'tis plain, that Heat is no more in the Coal, or in any such Subject, than us the very Pain; but both arise from the Agitation and Concussion of Particles: So as if this be very moderate, we feel Heat without any Pain; whereas if our Senses are immoderately struck, then follows Perception both of Heat and Pain together. Wherefore Heat and Pain are things which differ only in degree; and we ourselves are the Subject in which they meet, and wherein their Force and Vigour is exerted. And the like we may pronounce of other the Objects of our external Senses.  
III. IMAGINATION is a corporeal Impression, which inclines the Soul to believe, that such things are, or else may be; which yet never are, nor can ever be.  
As Sensation is apt to misguide the Soul, touching the Nature of Things, unless care be taken: so Imagination does the like as to their Existence, whether present, or to come. F●… as the vigour of our Sense throws us 〈◊〉 Security, as to the real presence and existence of any thing; so the torrent of Imagination which seems to equal, or at least to imitate Sense itself, does easily impose a false Aff●rance on the Soul, that such thing is true, o● may be true; though there be no other Foundation for it, but that it has been vehemently 〈◊〉 imagined. How these insolent Phantas●… and such idle Dreams, of Men who sleep not may be detected and dispelled, we have taught at large in our Book of Enthusiasm: 
Sect. 51, 52, 53, etc.  to which the Reader is referred.  
iv AS to the peculiar Temperament and Constitution; we define it to be, A corporeal Impression that results from the whole natural Mass, by which the Soul is obstructed and perverted from the Contemplation of some peculiar Things. Of this corporeal Frailty there might be many Instances given. We have seen how happy; and even famous, some have been at the Mathematics; who, when you turn them to thing Theological, or into the Metaphysics, they are quite lame, and stumble at every step. They will avow they perfectly comprehend whatever concerns the Nature of a Body, but as to that of a Spirit, they cannot figure to themselves the least Notion or Signification of it On the other side, you have others, who are so full of their Notion about Spirits, that they believe not a corner of the World to be void or destitute of them. They think they are present at every Thunder and every Rain; and they have mustered and regimented them into such Brigades; that it would make a Man sweat to comprehend the Government and Intrigues that they impute unto this invisible Race.  
V I KNOW not well how otherwise to judge of this Disease in the Art of Thinking, than that it grows from a particular Texture of Parts or a prevalent Bias in the Frame and Constitution of the Body. In some the Spirits are more stiff, gross and tenacious; in others more volatile, unequal, and even turbulent. So that if a Man had it in his Power (in the Language of the Chemists) to fix the volatile, and to volatilize the fixed, (by which they promise themselves Golden Mountains.) I mean if he could bring his Spirits to a just proportion of Delicacy and Agility, and could then so totally control their Motion, as to fix and settle them in the Contemplation of any particular Object, he were then certainly Master of the greatest Secret in the World, towards the Knowledge and Contemplation of all Things.  
VI CUSTOM is a corpercal Impression, by which the Soul is extremely bend to judge of things, as true, good, or amiable; for no other Motive, but because it has been accustomed so to judge, and so to act. There is an Instance of this Depravity in the Cannibals, who eat Man's Flesh without any Ceremony or sort of Qualm whatever. And the Power of Custom is so very strong (as Tully observes it from Aristotle) that it becomes a second Natural Hence it is, that some inveterate Opinions usurp among Mankind the Name of Principles, or common Notions; and a very 〈◊〉 Custom of the Country, passes for a Law of Nature. How pernicious a Fate therefore is it, when young Men happen to be that handled? How cautious ought all to be of any false or immoral Custom? And how much does it import us to fly the Society of those, who are over run with any Habit, either of ill Notions, or ill Manners? 'Tis not to be imagined how a little Familiarity and Conversation with an ingenious Libertine, will insensibly steal away that Sense of Hon●…, and of Virtue, which one first brought with i●, when we fell into his acquaintance.  
VII. EDUCATION a Custom, with some remarkable Affections annexed. For commonly Teachers do instil their own Notions also, into the Esteem of their Disciples, as if it highly imported them to the perfecting of their Education. And so it comes often to pass, that the Scholars will not afterwards endure the Correction of some Insufferable Errors, but persist and die in them. Happy had it been for such, had they never had any other Tutor than bare Nature: for then the Sparks of Virtue, and of Truth, which were in their tender Minds, had not been (as now by the Perfidy of an ill Master) extinguished. Tully takes occasion (in his Tusculan Questions) highly to exclaim hereat; affirming, 
Tuscul. Quaest. l. 3.  That we are been with such Elements of Virtue as if they were not depressed, even Nature is self would instigate us to a happy life. Whereas now we are perverted as soon as born; and our Minds so scribbled over with crooked Sentiments, as ●f they had been even mingled with our Milk. But this Misfortune is so little rectified in riper time by Instructors and Teachers, that Truth ●s laughed out of Countenance, vulgar Errors take place; and even Nature is subdued by Opinion.  
VIII. AS Education has Reference unto Custom: so a peculiar Genius or Inclination hath reference to a particular temperament of the Body, and is a corporcal Impression by which a Man is so endowed, and so appropriated to certain ends, that he conceives all human Happiness and Perfection to consist therein; and that all are either miserable, or ●mith to be pitied, who are defective in that particular. Thus it comes to pass, that whether in Oratory, or in Music, or in War, Politics, Poetry, Philosophy, Geometry, or Languages, he that lays hold by a peculiar Genius on ●one of them alone, shall be so intoxicated, as to despise every Man that is addicted to any of the rest. But this surely is a Sickness of the Mind, and wholly Pedantic; since every other Genius is equally happy, in the different Objects that delight and entertain him.  
IX. WHEREFORE we ought to applaud 〈◊〉 every Man what is either useful, or but 〈◊〉 nestly pleasant. And, as to ourselves, 〈◊〉 not any Excellency we attain to, lead us 〈◊〉 despise other excellent things: for this world be as a Judgement on us; and to be imprison 〈◊〉 as it were, in our own Tower; when by 〈◊〉 degree of Knowledge we are blinded and excluded from all the rest. There is no M● can truly be happy, but he that has attained 〈◊〉 share in that, which must make every M● happy. So that this does not properly a pottain to the Genius we speak of; unless a 〈◊〉 be so fortunately born, as to have his 〈◊〉 set wholly upon Virtue. But if this be 〈◊〉 Case, than indeed 'tis no more a Con●…ment or Captivity, but the most amiable, 〈◊〉 the most extended Liberty in the World.  
X. There are also Inclinations of this 〈◊〉 peculiar as well to the different Ages of M●… kind, as to the different Objects of 〈◊〉 and wherein Men bewray the impotent the Mind; but they are too many to 〈◊〉 here numbered up.  
XI. PECULIAR Fancy is a corporeal 〈◊〉 pression, whereby the Mind is carried to lov● hate, to value or despise any Thing, or any 〈◊〉 son, for some external and very trivial Cir●…stances.  
This is not such a Preference, or Rejection as comes from any antecedent Passion; 〈◊〉 rather a Consequence, and that which from such Impression does ensue. 'Tis not that 〈◊〉 hereby tax the Wisdom of those Ancients, and of the Pythagoreans in particular; who (as Gellius relates) did from the Mien, 
Noctes Atticae, l. ib. 1. c. 9  Gesture, and whole Air of the Body, penetrate into the Manners of Men: For this is no idle Speculation, since few Men can conceal their ●natural Propensities from a curious and diligent Inspector. But the Fault we accuse, is, when Men run headlong to love, or hate, such a thing or such a person, not for any natural Perfection or Imperfection; but so slightly and superficially; that often, upon the bare sound of a Name, we see some passionately inclined to one Man more than to another; so that as well Persons as Things are often, upon no better Arguments, either valued or despised. But alas, how much is the Frailty, the Mutability, and the impotent temper of Man's Soul detected hereby?  
XII. SOME will say, that these Observations are too minute; but if they contribute to the making a better Judgement on all things, and such as a good and prudent Man is bound to do, I think the Labour will not be wholly lost.    

THE SECOND BOOK  

CHAP. I. Of the Number of the Primitive Virtues.  
I. WE have hitherto sooken of Virtue in general; of the Passion and of the rest of the Cerp● real Impressions.  
Now follow the Virtues in their kinds; and these are even, as was said of the Passion, some of them Primitive, and others by Denvation. Of the first sort there are these three Prudence, Sincerity, and Patience; which 〈◊〉 in some sort, answer and succeed to the the Primitive Passions, so as either to perfect 〈◊〉 to correct them: Thus Prudence stands 〈◊〉 balance to Admiration; Sincerity to Con●piscence, and Patience to Fury.  
And that it may not appear we have cafually fallen into this Triplicity of Virtue but that Nature and Right Reason have in struct us therein, 'twill not be amiss to expose how far the Ancients have beaten the same Path. They have frequently pointed 〈◊〉 this very Summary of Duties, or of Virtues, ●ho perhaps not in the very Terms: Yet, while ●hey concur in the Substance, it goes a great way to show, that this threefold Division is according to Nature.  
II. METOPUS, the Pythagorean, intimates ●hree Virtues from the three parts of the Mind: the first Rational; the next Irascible: Which he makes as a Buckler or Defence against ●…ose things, which may more nearly hurt us. The third he calls the Appetitive, or Concu●scible. And his Words in the beginning of ●hat Fragment, are thus, All Virtue must have ●…ese three things: First, Reason. Secondly, strength or Vigour. And thirdly, Appetite or Election. Reason to judge by; Vigour to resist and overcome; and Appetite for Love and Enjoyment. ●o these three do plainly conform to our said primitive Virtues.  
III. THEAGES also divides them into the ●me parts. And adds, That Prudence is a Vir●…e of the rational part of the Soul, as Fortitude 〈◊〉 of the Irascible. For the Habit of Resisting, 〈◊〉 of submitting to Evil, depends on this latter. And therefore we term this Patience, which is a virtue that sustains and conforms to whatever is ●ievous or ungrateful. But instead of Tempe●ence, which is a Virtue derivative, and but ●…rticular, we substitute Sincerity; as being a ●ure and original Virtue, and of the Appeti●ve Soul; such as by whose Power we are led 〈◊〉 that which is simply and absolutely the ●est, and that purely for its own Considera●…on.  
iv So what Theages says elsewhere, h●… more evident reference hereto. As name● That the Principles of all Virtue were Knowledge Power, and Appetition: That by Knowledge 〈◊〉 consider things and determine; that Power enable us by bodily Force to bear up and sustain our sel● in all Accidents that happen; and that Appetition was as the Hand of the Soul, which is thr●… cut to catch at this or that Object as occasion ser●… To which triple Use of the Faculties, 〈◊〉 Triumvirate of Virtues; namely, Prude● Sincerity, and Patience, do most exactly 〈◊〉 form.  
V So again Marcus Aurelius makes frequently the same Enumeration, and says 〈◊〉 his Meditations; That Philosophy consists of th● three Virtues: Namely, first to preserve the 〈◊〉 (which he calls our Domestic God) clear 〈◊〉 unspotted from all carnal Temptations, 
Marcus Anton. l. 2. § 17.  so as 〈◊〉 there to be subdued by Pleasure, nor by Pains. A● this is that true Patience which comprehend both Continence and Long suffering. Next 〈◊〉 advises, That nothing be rashly done: Which the plain Office of Prudence. And lastly, 〈◊〉 be free from all Hypocrisy and Dissimulation Which is the part of Sincerity.  
VI AGAIN, in his seventh Book, That it 〈◊〉 a fundamental Duty to bear an innate Love to M●kind, 
Sect. 55.  that is, to relish whatever contributed to 〈◊〉 more regular Administration of the World: Which as he often shows, is nothing else than fran● and entirely to pursue, not what refers to Man's private Interest, but what tends most 〈◊〉 ●he general Laws of Nature, and of Reason, ●nd what is purely and eminently the best. For this temper of Mind (as he has it elsewhere) ●s the true giving up a Man's self in Sacrifice ●o Reason, and to God; which is the Height of Sincerity. Next he requires, That we never ●ield to corporeal Affections; and this takes in Patience. Lastly, Not to precipitate ourselves ●n any thing, lest Error ensue; which is the Dictate of Prudence. 
Lib. 8. § 26.  The same Philosopher has much more, up and down, to the like effect.  
VII. BUT particularly in his tenth Book he recommends three things, which much concern the Virtues in hand. As namely, Intention of Mind, which answers Prudence: 
Sect. 8.  Con●entment and Extension of the Mind, which refer to Sincerity and Patience. For to say, the Mind is intent, is to say, it dwells sedately on its Object, and accurately sifts into every part thereof: which is the Business of Prudence. And for Sincerity and Patience, how can they better be set off than by placing the Mind in a state of Content? For this testifies a thankful, humble Acceptance of what Nature, in her common Distribution, hath given, whatever the Portion be. And thus to acquiesce in Nature's common Law, is, in the Judgement of that wisest Philosopher, To obey the common Reason, that is in God; nay, which is little less than God himself. For he is the living Law, 
Marcus Anton. lib. 10. § 25.  in whose Administration the whole Universe remains; and he who bestows on every Man, what he, in his Wisdom thinks fit and competent for him.  
VIII. So then he that cheerfully acc● and values, not what to his Sense or Fa●… might be more complacent, but what Predence thinks fit to order and impose (as 〈◊〉 deed some things are sent, which, although 〈◊〉 altogether unwholesome, yet unto Flesh 〈◊〉 Blood their Taste is extreme bitter) this 〈◊〉 is, 
L. 8. § 52.  by Antoninus cried up, As one that 〈◊〉 cerely cooperates with that intellectual Pow● which guides and comprebends all things. 〈◊〉 adds, 
L. 7. § 9  That the World is one and the same 〈◊〉 every part; that God is every where the same 〈◊〉 that there is but one Essence, and one Law, 〈◊〉 is the common standard and measure of all 〈◊〉 lectual Being's; that there is one Truth, as 〈◊〉 one Perfection of all Animals of the same 〈◊〉 and but one and the same Reason among all 〈◊〉 Creatures that partake thereof.  
IX. THUS it is plainly his Sense, that 〈◊〉 common Rule and Constitution runs throut every intellectual Substance; and that ran● nal Creatures are, in this way, made a shof Fellow-Citizens with God; 
L. 2. c. 4. § 4.  and that nothing can degrade them, but a perverse Will against that Bond and Sanction, by which they ho● this State. Whereas if they resign to every thing which the Divine Law, and immutable Reasons, lays on them; and do not 〈◊〉 much as covet that things should be otherwise than as they are: Such (says he) are not 〈◊〉 reputed as bare Conformers, 
Marcus Antonin. l. 12. § 23  who submit and 〈◊〉 content, but as Men who are drawn, if 〈◊〉 caught up, by God himself. For they 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he would have them, and they have no other Will, but the Will of their Creator. This therefore is the supremest Degree of Sincerity: For this is not only the pursuit of what is eminently the best, but a thirsting ●nd panting after it for its own sake, and for its intrinsic worth.  
X. LASTLY, he advises, 
L. 10. § 8. 10.  That we corroborate 〈◊〉 Minds to such a degree, as to repel not only the charming, but the rugged Assaults ●f the Flesh; also to be above Vainglory, and even Death itself. This surely is enough, whereby to know what Patience is: and 'tis by this Virtue of Patience, that we surmount the Temptations of either Hand, whether they be soft or harsh. Now if it come to this; that neither Infamy nor Death can otherwise be ●hun'd, than in submitting to what is vile and contrary to the Laws of Reason; we must stand our ground, and with Patience congratulate them both. Upon the whole matter, we did not inconsiderately set down Prudence, Sincerity, and Patience, to be the first Fountains of all other Virtues. And this will be further manifest, when we shall, with a little more Accuracy, consider and define the Nature of each.   

CHAP. II. Of Prudence, the first Primitive Virtue  
I. PRUDENCE therefore is a Virtue, by which the Soul has such Dominion over the Pissions properly so called, as well as over all sorts of corporeal Impressions, that the mind can receiv● no Impediment thereby, in rightly observing, and successfully judging of what is absolutely 〈◊〉 simply the best.  
The Demonstration of this Virtue is ma●e out by Noema the Twelfth. Hence therefore it is that Prudence is attended and furrounded by Knowledge, Diligence, good Counsel, 〈◊〉 Determination, judicious Conjecture, Presence 〈◊〉 Mind, Sense, and the Limits of Right Reas●… Of which in particular. For  
II. KNOWLEDGE, or Intelligence, is th● Companion of Prudence; because knowing is nothing else but a right comprehension 〈◊〉 those things, whereof we are by others 〈◊〉 monished. 
Eudem. l. 5. c. 10.  So Aristotle observes, That 'tis 〈◊〉 Prudence we apprehend, but by Knowledge that 〈◊〉 judge and determine: so Men are called intelligent, only from their Facility of being taught. Wherefore we may agree, that prudent 〈◊〉 are also the most intellegent: For as they 〈◊〉 keep an open Ear to good Counsel, and 〈◊〉 not given up to the Prejudice of any Passion of corporeal Impression; so are they qualified by this Temperament, still to embrace Truth where ever they find it.  
III. 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 6. c. 13.  DILIGENCE (as is noted by Aristotle) shines most in the finding out of fit Mediums, and of applying them to the Mark: But if the Design be ill, then is a Man not termed diligent, but shrewd or busy. Wherefore it seems there is some Sagacity and Subtlety of the Wit, required in Diligence, which the prudent Man can scarce ever want: For, having both Mind and Body purified, as he hath, from the stains of Passion or Impression, he has also a stock of subtle and lively Spirits always attending him.  
Where this Diligence presides, there happy Counsel can never be wanting: 
Ethic. Eudem. l. 5. c. 9 & ad Nicom l. 6. c. 10.  For as the Philosopher places Rectitude of Counsel in advising that which is good; so the Essentials herein are, that the Ends be honest, that the Means be lawful, and that the Consultation be neither slow nor precipitate. And all these things meet in a prudent Man; as by the Definition of Prudence is manifest. So also Antoninus observes, That the prudent Man, being Master of his Affections, will never rashly break out: That, being assisted by a Purity in his Blood and Spirits, he has no Motions that are either sluggish or violent (for 'tis observed, that the Fluency and Purification of the Spi●its does not a little conduce both to their Gentleness and Moderation:) Much less (says he) will such a prudent Man attempt either things dishonest, or even the most honest ones, if the Means be dishonourable. For nothing of this sort can happen, but where Passion and Appetite carry all before them.  
IU. EQUAL Determination is very close of kin to Prudence; and is as the sentence given upon Plead of Right: 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 6. c. 11.  For who can better be qualified to determine about what is Right, and what is Good, than he who is not only above Passion, but superior to every Impression and to every Custom (how inveterate soever) that were but capable to misguide him.  
For what concerns Rectitude of Conjecture, 'tis plain, that, since Aristotle makes Moral Virtue nothing else but, A fit Habit of pointing or aiming at that just Medium which, in acting and in suffering, 
Ethic. Nicom. 1. l. 2. c. 9  is to be wished for: Who but the prudent can rightly calculate that Point? For he is Lord of his Passions, and his Spirits are so pruged and defecated from the Lee, 
Eudem. l. 5. c. 9  as he not only gets Presence of Mind thereby, but even a sort of Divination. 'Tis the same Philosopher notes, that Right Conjecture is such an Eruption of the Wit, and flies so suddenly to the Mark, as there is neither Deliberation or Reason employed therein. But where any gross Passions happen to intervene, they make a perfect Gulf between the Mind and Truth: And therefore this Pitch of Sagacity is not attainable, but by the prudent Man. 'Tis likewise as true of those who are imprudent, that for what concerns the Sense of Discrimination they have it not.  
V THE Philosopher, speaking about the Rectitude of Conjecture, styles it Sense; Inasmuch as whatever Judgement we make, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 2. c. 9  'tis collected from Particulars, and from Sense: As he asserts in the Case of Anger, Grief, and the rest.  
The same he also repeats in his Great Morals (which before was hinted) saying, 
L. 1. c. 2. § 9  That, if you have not within yourself a Sense and Feeling of these Matters, all your Labour after them is but in vain. 
jamblici, protrept. c. 2.  This the Pythagorea● also called quick and perfect Sensation; saying, There was a sort of Feeling in our practical Intellect, by which it came to pass that we were neither deceived in the sense of what we suffered, nor imposed on by ill reasoning in what we were to act.  
Thus therefore, by subjecting of our Passions, and the purifying of our Bodies and Souls, there springs up to us, as it were, a new Sensibility in the Mind or Spirit, which is only the Portion of the prudent Man. For in the Power thereof he finds out, and ascertains that Golden Mean which we have hitherto so recommended. That which in every Action is so valuable, and whereof the indiscreet or the impure Man can never have any Feeling.  
VI LASTLY, the limiting and defining of Right Reason is every where left, by Aristotle, to the prudent Man's Determination. For whenever the Question is started by him, what this Right Reason should be; he ever refers it thus, Prout vir prudens definiverit; 'Tis even what a prudent Man shall judge fit. And surely this is not said in vain, if but applied to the Man we speak of. For how can there be Right Reason at all, if not found within the reach of that Prudence which already we have defined? And therefore if neither the Pythagoreans, the Platonists, or Aristotle himself, have taken much care in the defining of Right Reason, 'tis because they finally referred it to the Arbitrement of this our Rectified and Prudent Man. For they all presumed that the Mind of Man, when effectually purged from the Stains of Prejudice and Passion, did as naturally discern of things which were just and true, as an unblemished Eye does rightfully distinguish of Colors. So that Aristotle was well advised in pronouncing Right Reason to be that which was conformable to Prudence; 
Ethic. Eudem. l. 5. c. 13.  taking Prudence in that Latitude we have already set forth.  
VII. FROM all that is now said, two things deserve Observation. First, how haughtily, and yet very impertinently, do some Men carry it, who while they are destitute of all Capacity to judge (as being unacquainted with this Moral Prudence) yet are they so far from subscribing to what the wise and prudent Men, of all Ages, and of every Nation, have established for true and just, that they impudently contend there is nothing in its own Nature is either the one or the other, nothing right and nothing wrong. But surely, this is not less absurd, than if a blind Man should deny all distinction of Colours, when he ought rather to inquire before all other things, what were good for his Eyes.  
VIII. NEXT we may note, that Prudence is not any particular Science of external things, but rather somewhat above all Science. 'Tis a Skill or Sagacity in the Soul, whereby she steers so clear from those Rocks, which corporeal Passions and Impressions throw commonly in the way, as never to fail of making a true and substantial Judgement in all things. And this is the Gift and Excellency which is peculiar unto Prudence, and which attends her in all her ways. But as to the knowledge and sense of things, all this and what appertains thereto we derive it from other Fountains; as either from Experience, or Natural Philosophy, or from Skill in War, or in the Laws, and the like. And hereunto Aristotle somewhere refers, in saying, 
Ethic. Eudem. l. 5. c. 5. Ad Nicom. l. 6. c. 5.  That the prudent Man had not regard to this or that particular thing, but to those which, in a more general way, appertained to the Good of Life. So that Prudence is a sort of general Perfection of the rational part of the Soul, even as Sincerity is of the Appetitive: which from the Pythagorean Fragments we had noted before.   

CHAP. III. Of the other two Primitive Virtues, Sincerity and Patience.  
I. SINCERITY is a Virtue of the Soul, by which the Will is entirely and sincerely carried on to that which the Mind judgeth to be absolutely and simply the best. When I say entirely and sincerely, I mean perfectly and adequately. For what is done perfectly is (according to Antoninus) done with the whole Soul, 
Lib. 12. § 29.  as well in acting justly, as in speaking of truth. And the Meaning of Adequate is that no By-consideration, whether of Profit or of Fame, must ever incline us. For the Soul ought so to be tempered and inflamed to that which is simply the best, as neither from Hurt or Ignominy to be diverted from it. For to be oppressed in a good Cause, is better than base Exemption. As Tully does assert.  
The Nature of this Virtue is explained in Noema the third, fourth, fifth, and so on to the thirteenth: But the true Beauty and Perfection thereof can hardly enter into the Imagination of any Man, who is not already affected and acquainted with it. 
L. 1. c. 2. § 9  And 'tis to a Soul thus rectified, that we may apply that of Aristotle, That neither the Evening or the Morning Star is half so charming. There can be no exterior Light half so bright, or so desirable, as this of the Soul, which is pu●e, and perfect, and even Divine.  
II. To this State of Simplicity or Sincerity in the Soul, is referable that of Antoninus, where he thus expostulates with himself— O my beloved Soul, when wilt thou be naked, simple, 
L. 10. § 1.  and entirely one? And again he gives himself the Rule,— Do not discompose thy Mind, or excite the Dregs; 
L. 4. § 26.  but purify thyself to the utmost that is possible.  
For this Sincerity is a Fountain that runs clear, and is perennial; it pours in Consolation, and fills the Life with internal Joy. This is the state of that Peace, which is so constant and ineffable, that no Cares, no Crosses, or so much as Jealousies, can distract it. For in that which is single, and but one, there can be no. Diversity: 'tis all Union, profound Love, and perfect Rest. Wherefore it was not without cause, that the Pythagorean called those blessed, who could by this happy Analysis, 
Jamblicus Protrept, c. 4.  resolve all things into one and the same Principle; which they plainly mean● to be the Unity of God: and did accordingly bind themselves both to follow and to obey him.  
III. BUT to follow God constantly and sincerely, is to follow that which is eminently the best; though not that which is most grateful to our Appetites. For who, as a mere Creature, can sincerely and constantly prosecute that which is best? This must be the Gift of God, and the Effect of a Divine Sense or Spirit. That Perfection does not originally appertain to any created Being, but to God the Creator: He, who is the common Father of us all, and the Legislator of the whole World: He, whom Zeno in Laertius styles, Right Reason penetrating all things; even the same Reason which is in Jove himself, the Captain and chief Pilot in the Administration of the Universe.  
iv 
L. 8. § 54.  HERETO refers that Exhortation of Antoninus, That we should not any longer perplex ourselves barely about the circumambient Air; but rather join and combine with that intellectual Power, which comprehends the Universe. Which saying amounts to this, That we ought to be drawn into one and the same mind with God. This is the Passion that can only make a Man Divine; 
Tusculan. Quaest. l. 5.  For such the Man is, as his Affections and Inclinations make him. 'Tis not here enough to have simple Intellection; no, it rather calls up and summons the Boniform Faculty, which is replenished with that Divine Sense and Relish, which affords the highest Pleasure, the chiefest Beauty, and the utmost Perfection to the Soul. 'Tis by this supreme Faculty that we pant after God, that we adhere unto him, and that (as far as our Nature does admit) we are even like unto him: he, who is Goodness itself, perfect Purity, and the most exalted Simplicity; he is that pattern whom in these Attributes we are to imitate; and this is that state of Sincerity we are to aspire to, as far as Humanity will permit. And as in doing hereof the highest Perfection of Man's Will is best expressed; so in the state of Patience is there exercised that great Faculty, which the Pythagoreans have styled, The Strength and Bulwark of the Soul.  
V PATIENCE is a Virtue of the Soul, whereby 'tis enabled, for the sake of that which is simply and absolutely the best, to undergo all things; even that which, to the animal Nature, is totally harsh and ungrateful.  
We do not by Patience understand a bare passive and stupid Indolence; but a vigorous and positive Firmity of the Mind: such as was before noted from Metopus the Pythagorean; And such as shrinks not from rugged and dangerous occasions, but bears up boldly and invincibly against all; so as 'tis not in the power of any Mortification whatever to turn the Will from the pursuit of that which is best.  
VI OF Patience there are two Parts or Species, which are Continence, and Long-suffering. We mean hereby, not those Demi Virtues, which are spoken of in the Schools of Pythagoras and Aristotle, but Virtues that are complete. Continence therefore is that part or species of Patience, whereby the Soul does, on account of that which is simply the best, both easily and constantly endure whatever Grief or Molestation can arise by denying the sensual Appetite those things, which would otherwise be grateful to it.  
Suffering is that species or part of Patience, whereby the Soul does in like manner, for the sake of that which is simply and absolutely the best, both easily and constantly endure whatever is harsh and vexatious unto our natural Life.  
VII. THE Demonstration of these Virtues will be found in the Noemas, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, tenth and eleventh: But the use of them is of such extent, as to reach to almost all Virtues. Wherefore Aristotle every where speaks to the same effect, saying, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 1. c. 2. Magn. Moral. l. 1. c. 6.  That all Moral Virtue has reference either to pleasure or to pain; that 'tis for pleasure we commit what is vile, and for fear of pain withdraw ourselves from things that are honest. So that Epictetus thought all Moral Philosophy was summed up in this short Precept, Sustine & abstine: As one part thereof referred to Suffering, the other to Continence.  
VIII. HENCE it appears that Continence, and Suffering, are not barely Virtues, but such as are of a high account. For they both, in their Derivation, have reference to that Force and Power which is in the Soul, either to excite motion, or procure its rest. And to this Faculty refers what Antoninus adviseth, That we cleanse the Imagination, 
L. 7. § 29.  and stop all Motions of the Sense. Which takes in both the Duty of Continence, and of Suffering.  
IX. BUT although we have here said enough of the Primitive Virtues; yet we may further inculcate, that they are so much the true Parents or Patriarches of all the rest, that in them alone all the Force and Essence of every other Virtue seems to be comprehended. Nor can any Man, that is possessed of these, find difficulty in acquiring the rest. This we choose to notify lest the Mind should be distracted after many things, when these very few Objects are sufficient not only for its Exercise, but to satisfy the most zealous search and anxiety after Virtue, and for attaining that Felicity which alone can attend it.  
X. WE only add, that 'tis impossible, if a Man wants these, he should have any Real Virtue, whatever he may show of what is counterfeit or casual. For Virtue must not be encumbered with Error, nor can it live but under the Regency of that Prudence we have already described. Yet if a Man shall by adventure, and without that Prudence, light upon the doing of some brave Action, 'tis not Virtue, but Fortune, that must be applauded for such happy chance.  
XI. Nor can Sincerity, or Simplicity, be wanting unto Virtue: For without these, 'tis not Virtue, but a shadow and pretended Image thereof. And therefore if it shall appear even in things well done, that they scarce had either been begun or perfected, without some  and adventitious end; 'tis plain, those events, how prosperous soever, lose both the Name and Nature of Virtues. For this was not the prosecuting what was absolutely and simply the best; but that which to the Man himself, and to his Appetite, was most inviting. This is not Virtue's Office, but the Contrivance or Heat of some animal Design. 
Offic. l. 1.  'Tis what is true, simple, and sincere is unto human Nature, as well as to Right Reason, most agreeable. Which, as Tully in his Offices hath explained.  
XII. BUT lastly, as for Patience, a good Man can less be without it than any of the rest: since there can be no security of the rest without this. For how can the effeminate Man, the ambitious, or he that is a mere Slave to his Appetite, be faithful either to his Prince, his Country, Religion, Friend, or himself. No, he will abandon God above, he will betray all if a Storm arise, and to exempt himself from the Difficulties that affright him, he will not scruple to expose and sell Mankind.  
These are the Monsters and reproach of their Race, Men that know not Friendship or Justice, or have any sense of human Society. 
Offic. l. 2.  For the same Tully affirms, That no man can be just, who fears Death, Pain, Banishment, or Want; or who prefers before Justice the things which are contrary to these Evils. Of such Power is Patience for the support and vindication of Honesty.  
XIII. THE same excellent Philosopher, as well as Orator, refers to the like Points, when again, in his Offices, he says,— That to think meanly of those things which others exalt, and even to spurn at them upon a steady and rational account, was the part of a great Mind. And, on the other side, to bear patiently things that are calamitons, so as not to lose the Decorum of Nature, or the Dignity of a wise Man, was the Mark of a generous Soul, and of an unshaken Mind. The first part of this Sentence points towards Continence, and the latter to Suffering. But he adds at last— That to see a Man bid defiance to all Fears, yet be melted down by his own Desires; to see him invincible against all Labour, and yet to be overcome with his Lusts: this was a most deplorable state. In this also we have a more plain intimation of those two Branches of Patience, namely, Continence and Suffering. And let this in short be sufficient for the three Primitive Virtues.   

CHAP. IU. Of Justice in general: which is the first of the three principal Virtues, which are termed Derivative.  
I. THE principal Derivative Virtues are also three, as Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance.  
Justice is well defined, by the Lawyers, to be, Constans & perpetua Voluntas suum cuique tribuendi, A constant and perpetual Will to give every man his own. 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 5. c. 10.  And to this Sense Aristotle also conforms. So that this Virtue looks chief abroad, and is therefore properly called by the same Philosopher, The Good of another: and especially if you regard that Branch of it which comprehends our Duty towards our Neighbour. But there is a part hereof, which takes in what we own to God; although we are as unable to advantage him by our Offerings, as we are to diminish or damnify his blessed State by our Demerits. The Principles of Justice are to be found in Noema the thirteenth, fourteenth, etc. on to the twenty third.  
II. THAT which, in this Definition, is called Suum, or a Man's own; is also frequently termed by the Lawyers, Jus or Right: and they say every thing is truly so styled, which by a sort of Fit, and congruous Habitude (that is, by Custom, Sanction, or Constitution) appertains to any Man. Now this Habitude, or Title of Property, takes its Rise from somewhat founded in the person, to whom such Right is owing or accrues; whether it be by some Quality, or Action, or even any Passion, as understood in the largest Sense. For the Man, who falls into Poverty, but yet is Honest, has a sort of Right or Title to receive Alms: and he, who has gotten any thing by Lawful Industry, has Right to keep it; and the same, if it come to him by Donation: And so of the rest.  
III. BUT although all Right is founded in, and ariseth from things themselves (as they are the Object or Subject matter of personal Right) yet is not such Right always clear or intelligible, without reference to some Law, which must explain it. So Andronicus Rhodius, 
Lib. 5. c. 9  in his Commentary upon Aristotle, says,— In those things the Right is placed, in which the Law is also placed: For Law and Judgement is that which separates and discriminates Right from Wrong, and Just from Unjust. However, as all Law is not of one and the same Nature, so neither all Right: For there is Right Natural, and Right Legal; and there is also Law Natural, and Law Positive. The first produceth those Sanctions, which are immovable and perinanent; as from the latter come such as are temporary or mutable. These last do not obtain in every place; since they were made and fitted to those places only that stood in need of them.  
iv As to this Law of Nature, Cicero does in very apt, though lofty, Terms, set it off in his First Book de L●gibus— Let us (says he) for determining and constituting of Right, take ou● beginning from the supreme Law, which did in all Ages subsist both before any Law wa● written, or any City or Society of Men were in being. But afterwards when he prescribes, that whatever partakes of Divine Nature (as he plainly owns our Souls to do) should be governed and directed by the Nature of God, by his Reason, Mind, Power, and Influence; in this he discovers, and reveals unto us, the Fountain and Original from whence proceeds the best and the most perfect Law of all.  
For what (says he) either among Men below, or in Heaven above, or in Earth, can be diviner than Reason? This is the Faculty, which, being matured and come to its Perfection, is by a more exalted Name called true Sapience. Wherefore (says he) since nothing is preferable to this Reason, which is conspicuous in man, as well as is God; we may conclude, it was Reason that made the first Bond of Society between God and Man. And this Bond being a Law, 
Lib. 2. c. 1. § 9  we may presume that Men are consociated to the Gods by Law. By which he plainly intimates, that this supreme Law, which was equally referable to Gods and Men, was Right Reason: and from thence inculcates a similitude of Man with God.  
V AGAIN in his second Book, where he describes this natural Law, 
Lib. 2. c. 4. § 3.  he calls it, Reason which resulteth from the nature of things; and which did not (as he says) then begin to be a Law, when first it was written, but whe●… it first had being; and that such Being it had from Eternity in the Divine Will. So that Law, which is eminent and truly such, fit to command, and fit to restrain, is the Right Reason of Jupiter himself. 
Cap. 3. § 3. Cap. 1. § 7, 8, 9  (This Sentence corresponds with what was cited before from Zeno, and from Antoninus.)  
VI The truth is, all Men do agree, that the supreme Law is Right Reason: and this Reason, being also a Divine Thing, is therefore immutable, always constant and like unto itself. But as it is placed in so mutable a Subject, as is human Nature, we see sometimes how this Reason is not so much altered, as even destroyed and extinguished: But in God, and among the number of Blessed Spirits (which are, by Antoninus, called immortal Gods) the same Reason flourishes everlastingly. This seems also to be the very mind of Andronicus, that best Interpreter of Aristotle. 
L. 5. c. 10  For although (says he) among Men all Laws were mutable; yet 'tis of necessity, that with the Gods they should be immutable, and that Right should therefore be some natural Thing. Nay even among Men who are of sound mind, and under any constitution, there is that immutable Law which is called Natural. For it does not much import, that Men of depraved minds do not comprehend what is just: since Honey is still sweet, though to the sick, who have lost their relish, it may appear otherwise.  
There is therefore a Law, which is eternal and immutable, and in some sort common both to God and Men; namely Right Reason: which although it enters not into the minds of Men wholly vitiated and profligate, yet still is present, 
Cap. 2. § 1, 6, 7.  and always manifest to the sound and prudent; which we have sufficiently exposed before.  
VII. Now 'tis from this immutable and supreme Law, that all other Laws and Ordinances are drawn; even those which are termed mutable, and which would have no validity in them, unless by virtue of that high and eternal Law. And of this kind, the keeping of Faith in Contracts is a principal part. So Virgil, 
Virgil. Aeneid. l. 8.  
— At 'tis dictis, Alban, maneres.   
Wherefore, inasmuch as every man is bound to stand to his Promise or Compact; he is tied to those Ordinances, which are not such by Nature, but by Law. Nay, Law itself is but a Compact, and, as such, must bind, where nothing is enacted by it against the supreme and immutable Law: But against this there is no Compact or Authority big enough to make any thing binding. For what is unjust in 〈◊〉 own Nature, cannot by any external Consideration be made just. On which occasion Cicar● says remarkably thus— If Laws were only to be constituted by the Command of the People, 
De Legibus, lib. 1.  by the Decrees of the Prince, or by the Senten●… of the Judges; it might be lawful to rob, to commit Adulteries, and to forge Wills, by procuring the Votes and Suffrage of the Multitude thereunto. And if such and so great a Power, could reside it the Voices of unruly Men, so as to alter the very Nature of things; 'tis strange to me how they forbear enacting, that the most pernicious things be not presently made both laudable and just. This is the Raillery wherewith that great Man treated so weak and so fantastic a Paradox.  
VIII. THUS it appears; That, as from the Supreme Law, which is termed Right Reason, all perfect Knowledge of Right takes its original: so from the Observation of Right proceeds all Exercise of Justice.   

CHAP. V Of Piety.  
I. JUSTICE comprehends the two parts of Piety and Probity. For Piety itself is a sort of Justice, by which we render to God the thing which is God's; that is to say, the thing which of Right appertaineth to him. And this Right of God's is very commonly termed Worship: Which principally consists in this, that we press vehemently to know him truly, as the infallible Means to love and honour him entirely. For as we are sprung from him, and wholly depend upon his Will, so ought we to consecrate all the Faculties of Soul and Body to his good Pleasure, and to have our affiance in his Providence. And as to his holy Commands, whether those that are writ in Books, or inscribed inwardly in our Hearts; we must so fervently hearken and adhere thereto, as rather to bear all Infamy, Poverty, Oppression, and even Death itself, than quit our Integrity, or violate a good Conscience. These are God's Rights; and he that dares to derogate from them, or to infringe them, does as much as in him lies defraud and injure God himself.  
II. 'TIS very obvious, that in these sorts of things, the true Worship of God does consist, seeing all Men do by Worship, understand the Honour which is paid to God. Now 'tis plain, that those, of all others, do pay most Honour to God, who (knowing the excellency of the Divine Nature, and also what Affinity the Mind of Man holds therewith) do most ardently contend to have that part of the Soul, which is so allied, preserve its similitude to the great Original; and do renounce all things, even life itself, rather than to damnify that holy Resemblance.  
III. THERE can be no proof so convincing as this, of the Love, Honour, and Esteem we pay to God. For while we reverence that poor Extract we bear of him; to the degree of spurning, not only the Pleasures of Life, but even Life itself, in comparison of those Consolations, which in true Virtue and Right Reason can only be found: We do therein openly avow, that as God is infinitely more excellent than his poor Image; so is he by infinite Degrees both honoured and valued by us above ourselves. And to do otherwise, or to be negligent and languishing in his holy Worship, were either to be ignorant of a God, or else not to know that Reverence, which the Divine Nature both deserves and demands from us.  
iv NOW that Virtue is a thing Divine, and God's true Image, is therein manifest, that 'tis defined to be not what is most grateful to the Animal Life, but that which is absolutely and simply the best. It was in this high sense the ancient Philosophers understood it: where Plato (teaching that Miseries would then have an end, when we fled from this mortal state unto the Gods) he says,— That such Flight was our Translation into the similitude of God, and that such similitude (so far as it was possible) did consist in our being holy, just, and prudent.  
V HE adds in another place, that the Divine Nature was the Law and Boundary to all temperate Men For (says he) to the honest, and to the prudent, God is the Law; but to the unadvised, there was no Law, but their Appetites. And again he adds,— That God was the true Measure of all things, and not Man a Measure to himself. And again,— That whoever was wise and honest was God's Friend, as being like unto him. By all which Plato inculcates, how divine a thing Virtue was, and how much allied, and resembling unto God himself.  
VI HENCE it is that Cicero in his Tusculan Questions, 
Tusculan: Quaest. 6. l. 5.  has such magnificent Words touching human Souls;— As if, says he, the mind of man were but extracted from the mind divine; and to be compared with no other but God himself, if it were not arrogance so to speak. And then explaining, in his first Book de Legibus, that saying from the Delphic Oracle of Nosce teipsum,; he adds, 
De Legib. — That whoever knows himself, must presently feel within him something which is divine; That he must conclude the Understanding given him, aught to be but as some Image dedicated to God; and that he stands bound both to say and act such things as an worthy of so Heavenly a Gift.  
VII. 
Lib. 12. § 19  Consonant hereto are the frequent Say of Marcus Antoninus,—. That we 〈◊〉 confess we have somewhat within us more extellent and divine than what submits to the Controlment of our Passions, or than can be agitated by them as it were a mere Puppet. He adds a little after,— That every Man's Mind is a God, and had its Original from him. 
Sect. 2.  And again,— Why seek we farther than the immediate business of a Creature intellectual? One that loves Society, and partakes in those Laws which are common to God? It were endless to name all he says: 
Sect. 22.  yet, where he teaches in brief what it was to be conversant with the Gods, he says thus, That every Man lives with the Gods, who does what is dictated by that God, which Jupiter has given him for his Captain and Director. Meaning hereby, That every Man's own Reason, and his Intellect, was that Director or inferior God. Nay, so allied he thinks the Soul unto God, as to call it a dismembered Parcel of him: although herein he spoke but little as a Philosopher.  
VIII. SINCE therefore there is so much of Divinity interwoven in a virtuous Mind; 'tis plain, that if we cultivate Virtue, as it has reference to God, and as 'tis his most visible Image, we manifestly worship the great God himself. And whereas other Rituals have been subject to Mutation, and shall not be lasting; this one Right of Adoration, which is God's Right, must be immutable and everlasting.  
Wherefore the Sum of all natural Religion seems to consist in that Precept of Antoninus, To remember God, 
Lib. 10. Lib. 6. § 7.  and to know that he abhors all Hypocrisy, and will not be served but with what is rational and like to himself. Or, as he elsewhere speaks, That a Man should not rejoice, or acquiesce in any thing, but in passing from one good action to another; such as had reference to God's Glory, and to the public Good. For God's most immovable and immutable Right is this, that we love him for his wonderful Perfections, and then imitate him as much as we can.  
IX. THIS however is not said to the exclusion of other Rights; which have either been revealed by holy Oracles, or enjoined by the Decree of the supreme Magistrate. For there may be various Ceremonies, and other Circumstances of Divine Worship, which, in Virtue of a Law, may be established as of Divine Right, and such as may not be violated, till by Legal Authority they are revoked. But still these must have no Repugnancy in them, either to the Oracles of God, or to the supreme Laws of Virtue.  
X. Now from all that has been said, 'tis easy to comprehend what Piety is; For according to Plato's Definition, Holiness is a part of Justice; and so Andronicus Rhodius (almost to the same sense) defines it to be, A Science that makes us faithful and obedient unto the Laws Divine. Whence 'tis manifest what Impiety must be: and how fitly it may be divided into these several kinds, namely, Superstition, Profaneness, Enthusiasm, and Rituality.  
XI. Now Superstition is a sort or mode of Impiety, in fastening upon God (by way of Worship) those things which are contumelious to him: which is plainly to be injurious to the Deity. Wherefore, Superstition is that Impiety, by which a man considers God to be so light, or so passionate, as with trivial things either to be appeased, or else moved to wrath.  
Profaneness also is that Impiety, by which a Man does with Impudence and Imprudence violate all Divine Rights, whether temporary, or immutable. And this Disease does sometimes ripen into downright Atheism; than which no state of the Soul can be more sad and deplorable.  
XII. ENTHUSIASM is that Impiety, by which a Man does boldly violate, and kick under foot, all external Rights; while yet he drives on, with Heat and Ardour of Mind, to some internal and spiritual Worship of God.  
But Rituality is that Impiety, by which a Man, while he is observing those exterior Rights of God, and adheres with a sort of Conscience to things ceremonial; does in the mean time freeze, as to any spiritual Feeling, or internal Worship of God.  
XIII. THESE in a manner are those Offences in Religion, which are most obvious: but if others increase the number, I shall not gainsay it. I confess it was our intention to treat rather of the Virtues than of the Vices: But, as Aristotle says, 
De Anima, l. 1. c. 5.  the one may be known by comparison with the other. And the Rule or Law is Judge unto both.  
However the Demonstration of the present Virtue of Piety is particularly explained in Noema the thirteenth, sixteenth, and twenty first: As also in the fifth, eighth, tenth, etc. For as to the Being of a God, and that our Souls are immortal; we have sufficiently proved these in our Writings against Atheism, and of the Souls immortality: unto which we therefore refer.   

CHAP. VI Of Probity: Or of Justice, properly so called.  
I. THE other part of Justice is Probity, by which we give to every Man what is his own. And this may be divided into three parts, Political, Oeconomical, and Moral.  
The first contains the Offices of the Magistrate towards the People, and of the People to the Magistrate.  
The second refers to the Duties of a Father towards Children, Wife, and Family; and of each of these towards their Master, Father, and Husband.  
The third refers to the Duties of private Men, or at least of equals, each to other. Of all which to speak in particular would be too tedious.  
II. BUT this in short may be said, that 'tis not the part of a Magistrate to act against Reason, or to be swayed by his own passion, but in all things to adhere to what is prescribed by Law and by Right Reason. For as Aristotle calls the Magistrate, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 5.  The very Soul and Spirit of the Law; so Tully on the other hand holds, That a Magistrate should not only be directed, 
De Legibus, lib. 3.  but even animated by the Laws. This (says he) is the Power and Duty of a Magistrate who presides, that he direct things profitable and just, and such as hold conformity with the Laws. For as the Magistrate is above the People, so are the Laws above the Magistrate. Now the People's Duty is, to obey the Magistrate, to contribute cheerfully and liberally to the public Charge; not to contend about things indifferent, such as have by Custom passed into Right, but to preserve Peace, Society and good Order.  
III. THE Father of a Family should be careful, to look about; to provide all things necessary; to treat with Gentleness his Wife, Children, and Servants: Above all, to avoid either giving pernicious example, or permitting it in others, but rather early to suppress, or expel it from the House. On the other hand, 'tis the Duty of each of these respectively, to give the other all fit Observance; and, though he should at times be out of humour, or a little in the wrong, yet were it not wise or proper hastily to contend or dispute with him. For as Pittacus advised, 'Tis not seemly to be wrangling with your Parents, although what you speak be the right. And indeed this Rule may well take place in respect of Magistrates, and even all that are superior to us, either in Age or in Relation: And, even to our Uncles in particular, whom the Ancients called Parents.  
IU. LASTLY, the Duty of private Men towards their Equals, and indeed towards all, is, ever to be aiding either in Help or Counsel, when it is in our power to do it. Much more are we tied to observe all our Compacts and Promises; but never to seek our own Benefit by another Man's Hurt.  
V NOW as to that celebrated Division of Justice into Distributive and Corrective, it has chief reference to the Politics. And in that Division it is where Aristotle's Observation takes place, namely, that Justice was a sort of Equality. But the Equality whereto Justice inclines, and which it seems to affect, is of that sort which shows itself in the ways of Proportion. For Proportion is a Rationum Aequalitas, which Ratio (in the Language of Geometry) is that Relative Correspondence which one Quantity or Number has to another; or by which it appears, how often one Quantity or Number does comprehend, or is comprehended in another.  
VI BUT as to Proportion or Analogy, this is either Geometrical or Arithmetical.  
The Geometrical Proportion is when four Magnitudes, or four Numbers are so compared, namely, 2, 6; 4, 12; or 6, 2; 12, 4; As that the third (namely 12) in this latter Example, doth as often contain the Fourth (which is 4,) as the first (namely 6) does contain the second (which is 2;) And that the third in the first Example (namely 4) is as often contained in the fourth (which is 12) as is the first (namely 2) in the second (which is 6.)  
This is the Proportion that refers to Distributive Justice. For as one person is to another, suppose Ajax to Achilles, so also, in judicial Determinations, ought there to be had a due consideration of Honour to Honor. This is that which is called the Equality of Proportion. For if the Merits of several Men shall happen to have the same Circumstances and Reasons of Equality; 'tis fit that not only in Reason, but even in Magnitude, their Rewards should be also equal.  
VII. As for Arithmetical Proportion 'tis when four Numbers, or Magnitudes, are so compared, as in 5, 7: 9, 11. That the same Excess or Defect attends the two first each to other, as is in one of the latter to the other. Namely, that in each of them there be the same Equality, both of Excess, and of Defect, as in the Numbers above. And this has reference to Corrective Justice.  
But here we must ingenuously confess, that it seems hard to find in the Measures of Corrective Justice any sufficient or competent Image of such Arithmetical Proportion as in this Distinction of the said four Terms is expressed. For whatever Andronicus thought to the contrary, 'tis plain, that the Excesses and Defects which arise from the Terms before enumerated, are not equal. 'Tis true, that two and two, as to the Ratio are equal. But to take two from seven, and but two from eleven, is as to Proportion unequal. So also to add two to seven, and but two to five is not equal. 
Lib. 5. c. 5.  Wherefore if we should humour Andronicus in his own way, and venture to suppose or invent a Case of four Terms, it would seem fit to make the two first of them to be (as for example) the Party who bears the Injury, and then the Party who gave it, which however is so to be understood, that as yet no Appeal is made to any Judge, or Sentence given against the Wrongdoer. But when afterwards the offended Party takes on him the Name of Plaintiff, and the offending Party that of Defendant; here two other new Terms are started up, and then it follows, after Sentence given by the Judge; that the Excess or Difference, which before appeared between him that did the wrong, and him that bore it, is quite inverted. For what the Doer or Defendant injuriously took, is now by Sentence commanded back; and by how much he first overcame the Sufferer or Plaintiff by what he took away; by so much is he now pulled back; and damnified by what he is forced to refund. And this is true Arithmetical Proportion.  
VIII. 
L. 5. c. 5.  THE same Andronicus seems to levelly at the like thing in what he thus adds, That as is the Wrongdoer to the Sufferer, so is the Judge to the Wrongdoer: For what this Man did against the other, the Judge does the same against him; and so makes them equal. And this aught to refer as well to the Defect, as to the Excess, of what is equal; for Injuries, whether great or small, aught to have proportionable Reparation. But he that is curious after such Nicetias as these, may, if he think fit, consult that author, who dwells (as we conceive) too long on this Piece of Subtilty. For 'tis plainly our Opinion, that a Man may very well administer Corrective Justice, though he never heard, in his life, the Meaning of Arithmetical Proportion.  
IX. IT would make more to our purpose, if as well that Distinction, as that Relation, between Justice and Equity, were observed, which Andronicus notes in these words; 
L. 5. c. 16.  That (says he) which we call equal, is just; and is some Cases more excellent than what is only just. Not that Equity excels Justice; or that it is of another kind, and so more excellent in its nature; but only by being of a greater extent. For (as he adds) Equity is that which supplies the Defects of the Law; And, since all Events could not be particularly foreseen, Equity not only corrects Errors, but superadds Restrictions and Limitations, which were omitted at the making of the Law.  
X. Now it seems worth our while to reflect on this Definition of Equity, as it plainly fastifies there is something, which in its own Nature is just. For if nothing were just, 〈◊〉 in virtue of some written Law; what need then would there be of Emendation; seeing the Law (whatever it were) made every thing just? But 'tis the part and Province of Equity, to overrule and correct the very Law (even as the Intellect does the Will;) and, as Aristotle says, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 5. c. 14.  To establish such things in such Cases, as the Legislator himself bade not failed to have provided for, had he but fweseen the event. But this Saying of his had been very ridiculous, if the Nature of Just and Unjust, 
L. 2. c. 4. §. 3.  had not been grounded on the Nature of things, and the various Circumstances that attend them; but depended merely on the Will and Pleasure of a Legislator.  
And thus much of Justice.   

CHAP. VII. Of the other two principal Derivati●… Virtues, Fortitude and Temperance.  
I. FORTITUDE and Temperance herein agree, that they relate more immedately to ourselves: yet the Benefit of these as of every other Virtue, redounds some w●… unto our Neighbour; and hence we style 〈◊〉 Universal Justice. So Rhodius the Paraphrast has it: 
L. 5. c. 1.  This is Justice, when we turn every Virtue to the Use and Advantage of another. So 〈◊〉 abstain from another Man's Wife is Justice as well as Temperance; and to repel the Enemies of our Country, is Justice and Fortitude both; for as this is a Debt we own our Country, so without Fortitude we could not discharge it.  
II. BUT what Fortitude is, both Tully and Aristotle inform us, in their Descriptions of a c●…ragious Man. 
De Officiis, l. 1.  The first tells us; That the Man of a steady and courageous mind, is not to be shaken at cross events; he must not fall from his Character, and show Confusion; he must have presence of mind to direct what stands with Reason: and 'tis the mark of a high Capacity to foresee all that may fall out, and to provide accordingly for it. Herein consists the chief Renown, to overcome by Prudence and good Advice: f●… to rush headlong into a Battle, or to fall to hand● blows with an Enemy, this alone is a poor and brutal thing. 'Tis true, when the time is come, and that necessity requires it, than we must strike servile, and prefer death before any thing that is servile or base. But as we must not pass for Cowards by an industrious shunning of Dangers; so 'tis not necessary, and it were even ridiculous, to expose ourselves, when there is no Cause that requires it.  
III. YET Andronicus, in Conformity with his Aristotle, makes it one part of a valiant Man, 
L. 3. c. 7.  that he dares intrepidly advance towards any danger: So that his stout Man is he that fears nothing. And Tully elsewhere says, That the two great Gifts of Fortitude, are the Contempt of Pain and Death. But Andronicus is more accurate in Circumstances: adding, that the Dangers attending his Hero should be. 
L. 3. c. 8.  Such as allowed him to exert the Power of an inflexible Mind, and the Dint of his Will; or else to have before him the Contemplation of a noble Death: For that he was properly valiant, who could frankly submit to any excellent way of dying.  
He has it also elsewhere, That whoever is valiant, moves steadily towards a glorious Death. But this sort of Death can only be purchased in the Cause and Quarrel of Virtue. For not those, who passionately rage and lay about them, are the Men we speak of: they are Fighters indeed, but not valiant. Whence we may conclude, that Fortitude is a Virtue, by which a Man may, with Constancy of Mind, bear up against all the Dangers of Life, and even Death itself. And this either for the Cause of Honesty, or the sake of that which is simply and absolutely the best.  
iv I mention here Constancy of Mind, and not Indolence or Insensibility. For as Andr●…cus, according to the Mind of Aristotle, has 〈◊〉 To be gnawed with sorrow upon cross events, 
L. 3. c. 9  is not at all inconsistent which being couragions. For by how much a Man is oppressed with Grief, and y●… bears up for Virtue's sake, by so much the more deserves he the Reputation of being valiant. But here I also mention a virtuous Cause: For 〈◊〉 Mind that is disposed to Dangers, not for common Utility, but for private Ends, this must rather pass for Boldness than for Fortitude.  
V CICERO saith, A Mind that is great and valiant has these two Marks. The first is a light esteem of outward things; 
De Offic. l. 1.  for it will plainly appear, that a Man ought neither to admire, 〈◊〉 wish for, any thing, but what is just and suitable. Nor ought he ever to submit servilely to any M●…, or be subjected to the Perturbations of Mind 〈◊〉 Fortune. The other is, when a Mind is so framed and constituted, as to undergo great things; I mean, public Services, full of Difficulty, Labour, and Danger: and particularly with reference to life, and all the Conveniencies of living. This excellent Sentence of Cicero, may serve as a Paraphrase on the Definition we have mentioned before.  
VI BUT as for the Cause of Honesty or Virtue, the greatest Dangers are to be undertaken; so on the same account are corporeal Pleasures to be renounced. Else it were not so much Temperance, as a certain Moroseness or Stupidity of the Mind. For there can be no Virtue, where the end is other than what is honest and simply good. Wherefore Temperance may be defined to be, A Virtue, by which a Man forbids himself corporeal Pleasures; to the end he may enjoy that Pleasure, which results from a Conscience of well-doing, both more constantly and more entirely. For to observe great Rules of Temperance merely for Health's sake, may also be the Virtue of a Beast; This does not mount up to that point, which makes us Men, but is a thing in common with inferior Animals.  
VII. BY bodily Pleasures, I here understand not those thin and purer ones, which come by Seeing, Hearing, or Smelling; but (as Aristotle notes) those grosser ones of the Taste, and the Touch; 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 3. c. 13.  which relate to Sensuality, and to the Companions and Inflamers of it, namely, to Wine, and high Feeding. Temperance is, almost by all the Writers, confined to the Boundaries we here set down: Whence 'tis plain, that 'tis but a Branch or Parcel of that Primitive Virtue, which we have called Continence, even as Fortitude is a Branch of Patience.  
The Reasons of Temperance and Fortitude, may be had from Noema the fifth, sixth, se●enth, eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth. As of Probity, from the fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, twentieth, two and twentieth, and three and twentieth. Which, unto all who think ●t to examine them will soon appear.   

CHAP. VIII. Of the Reductive Virtues.  
I. WE have explained the nature of the principal Derivative Virtues; and the Reasons of them are, from their Noem●… briefly exposed.  
To these three Virtues, all that remain may not unfitly be reduced, so as we venture to call them all Reductive Virtues: And the reason of each will be found in those Noem●…, unto which their Principles are referred.  
II. Now such of this kind as are reduci●… unto Justice, are as follow, Liberality, Magnis●cence, Veracity, Gratitude, Candour, Urban●… Fidelity, Modesty, Humanity (or a Love 〈◊〉 Mankind) and Hospitality. Lastly, Friends●… itself, and such others as comprise good Will towards our Neighbours; namely, Assobility, Courtesy, or Officiousness, which are also Branches of Humanity. For since the Effects of all these Virtues have reference 〈◊〉 our Neighbour; and that all are dictated fro● right Reason, which has the power of a La● 'Tis but fit to rank them as Parts and Parc● of Justice.  
Unto Fortitude we refer Magnanimity an● its Dependants; as Generosity, Lenity, Const●…cy, and also Diligence. Andronicus adds unto them Vivacity, Presence of Mind, Vigour, an● Manhood.  
Lastly, unto Temperance we refer Frugality, Humility, Modesty, Austerity, and those other Adherents which Andronicus adds, namely, A sl●nder and uncompounded Diet, Unblamableness 〈◊〉 Behaviour, and a contented Mind.  
These are the Names of the most remarkable of the Reductive Virtues; for we ravel 〈◊〉 into every small thing, nor involve our ●ives in their strict and minute Definitions; since the Nature of such Dependants, may ●nough be known from those Principal or primitive Virtues, unto which they refer.  
III. HOWEVER, it will not be amiss to touch a little on each of those above, and especially on such of them as have reference unto Justice, because they are Branches of that Justice, which Rhodius calls and defines to be Volantary Justice. For the Probity of every Man is more conspicuous, where no Penalty compels him, than where he is liable to Law, or else to Defamation, for what he does.  
iv 
Andronlcus, l. 4. c. 1.  LIBERALITY has reference to the Use of Money: And there is no other Use thereof, than spending and bestowing it. So that he who, according to his Fortune, does cheerfully and willingly spend upon fit Persons, and in things convenient, and in proper place; he may justly be styled Liberal; he that keeps no Measures, is a Prodigal; and he that falls short in these, is a Niggard.  
V MAGNIFICENCE has also reference to Expense; but than it must be in things singular and great, as the Name itself denotes. And here, in like manner, three C●…siderations must enter, of the Person, of Work, and of its End or Use. For it beho●… not every Man to make large Expense; 〈◊〉 is he that does it properly Magnificent, 〈◊〉 less what he splendidly lays out, is also dedicated to some very great End. 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 4. c. 5.  Wherefo●… Aristotle notes, That things of this Rate a●… denomination, are commonly for Divine U●… or for the Public.  
VI GRATITUDE is an excellent and cheerful part of Justice; by which he that ●…ceives a Benefit, does impatiently, and as soon as possibly he can, repay it with Advantage.  
VII. VERACITY is a Virtue which leech a Man to show, both in word and deed, what really he is, without Simulation or Dissimulation in any thing. However, the latter of these two Faults is more excusable, if moderately performed, and only done to avoids show of Vanity or Pride. 
Nicom. Ethic. l. 4. c. 13.  But, if it exceed Bounds, it savours of Arrogance; just as Aristotle observed in the Laconic Garment, saying. He that is too affected in his own dimontion, as well as he who is Pragmatical in his o●… Praises, as guilty of Ostentation. But though that of Aristotle's be an elegant Care, in his opposing two Vices to every Virtue; 
Lib. 2. c. 9 § 1.  yet to 〈◊〉 it would seem more profitable, if we opposed unto Truth that single Vice, by which one Man takes on him the Guise of another to conceal his own; and which we do most significantly term Hypocrisy. This is an Evil in the World, which is the Mother of much ●…ichief; and many are involved in great ●…appointments and Tribulations by it, as well as the Hypocrite himself.  
VIII. CANDOUR is that which guides us to interpret with Benignity the Words and Actions of all Men: But when they are 〈◊〉 as cannot well be born; then, with an honest and decent Liberty, to check and reprehend them. The Opposites to this Virtue are called Moroseness on the one hand, 〈◊〉 of Caressing on the other: But when it ●…ds to our Lucre or Advantage, then 'tis called Cajoling or Adulation.  
IX. URBANITY is when either we pleasantly and inoffensively play upon others, or bear the like from them: And those, who will agree to neither of these ways, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 4. c. 14.  are by Aristotle called Clowns and Rustics. But for such as spare none, and keep neither Bounds nor Decorum in their Jesting, they are termed Scurrilous.  
X. FIDELITY is seen, when we stand to our Promises, and in restoring back what has been deposited with us, where no written Law can compel it.  
XI. MODESTY is a constant and perpetual Observance of what belongs to Decorum: ●herefore it seems as the very Flower of Justice, or rather somewhat more delicate, or paramount unto it. For Justice commands us to do Violence to no Man; but Modesty says, ●o not so much as displease a Man. And in this (says Cicero) is the Power of Decor●… chief seen. 
De Offic. l. 1.  For he defines it to be, A th●… which conforms to that Superiority in Man, by wh●… his Nature has distinguished him from other Cr●…tures. And surely this is enough to admonish 〈◊〉 against yielding to any thing that is brutal, 〈◊〉 against the Dignity of our Composition.  
But we are further to know, that, beside general Decorum, there are also some special Acts therein, which are suited to every Rank, Age, and Condition of Life: As to the Prince and to the Priest; the Philosopher and the Plebeian; Men and Women; the Aged and the Young, and the like. But let this be the Rule for all, That we pay to every one what by custom they may expect; and that which, by the common Opinion of all Men, is established and approved. Thus we shall give Disappointment to none, nor despise the Judgement of the Public. But for any single Man to set up in defiance of all his Companions, and to despise whatever the Neighbourhood shall say of him; this looks not only arrogant, but as if he were stupid, or growing profligate.  
Wherefore to observe a degree of Reverence towards all Men, is part of Justice▪ neither should we by ill Gestures, or by immoderate Talking, offend the Sight, or overlo●… the Hearing of any one.  
XII. HUMANITY is a Virtue, which, from the sense of that Excellency that is in human Nature and the common Affinity we have with all Mankind, leads us to be offici●…s and benevolent to every one.  
Hospitality is a Virtue, which moves us to ●e kind to Strangers, not only as they are Men, but as destitute perhaps, while abroad, of those Conveniencies they had at home.  
XIII. CIVILITY is a Virtue that minds us of our Tie to all Men in the common Link of Humanity; and bids us with such Cheerfulness of Voice, Countenance, and Gesture, 〈◊〉 salute whom we meet; as that when we 〈◊〉 them How they do, they may think themselves even the better for our ask.  
Affability is when we, being met and spoken to by others, do with Gentleness and good Expressions entertain them.  
But Officiousness is where a Man stoops to every little Service towards his Superiors, or at least his Equals; and is flying to do every small thing that the Company seems to want.  
All these Virtues are fitly referable to Humanity.  
But hereto is opposed, not only what is plain Inhumanity, but that fond and affected Humour of some, who will needs pretend to polige the whole World, and so to caress some Men in particular, as if presently they would adopt them, and make their Fortunes; while in reality, they mind nothing they say, 〈◊〉 intent more by those enormous Civilities, than the pleasure of supposing they are just credited while they speak.  
This we call a manifest Infraction of ●…stice, because by such delusion, an honest He● is often robbed of his sincerest Affections; thi● which he has not a more valuable Treasure 〈◊〉 bestow, where he is really willing to obli●… or to be grateful: So that we justly make the no less criminal, than any other Rape or Felony.  
XIV. LASTLY, True Friendship stands in the rank of Virtue. But for that which is vulgars' so called, 'tis, for the most part, nothing else but the Combination of a few cunning M●… against the rest of their Neighbours, to se●… the Turn of each other. They award unjustly, and bear false witness; and call this matual good Will and Friendship among themselves, while they undo the rest. This is the more vile and abject piece of Injustice, as I is mixed with Hypocrisy: For they satisfy themselves, in that the Injury is not done with intention to hurt their Neighbour, but only to gratify a Friend.  
But as for that which is real Friendship doubtless, there is nothing more Holy, or more Divine; 'tis not less a Virtue, than is Humanity or Hospitality: And 'tis only to be found with such as are possessed of all other Virtues. It comprehends those Du●… which are not only owing to good Men 〈◊〉 general, but to those especially, whose lo●… Conversation, whose tried Sincerity, whost Usefulness and good Turns, have obliged 〈◊〉 to distinguish and place them above the rest of Mortals.  
However the best Fruit of Friendship is a ●…mal Stimulation unto Virtue. Thus it 〈◊〉 noted of old among the Pythagoreans: 
jamblicus de Vitâ Pythagoricâ, c. 33.  〈◊〉 (says jamblicus) they did frequently admo●… each other, never to separate from him, who ●…s one with them in God. For all their application to Friendship, both in word and deed, tended but to an Union and Communion with God; and that all might be, as it were, incorporated together into a Divine Life. To which he presently adds, Than which, nothing better can be found, either in their Discourses, or in their practice of Living. And I do likewise believe, that it comprehends all the Duties of true Friendship. 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 9 c. 8.  Aristotle is not much different from this sense, where he notes, that the principal Fruit and Pleasure of Friendship, did consist in those things which are proper to us as Men, namely, as we were rational and discursive: For the Society of Men at a Table, was not as the business of Cattle feeding in the same Pasture, but for Ratiocination and Intercourse of Speech.  
And thus much, in short, of those Virtues which are reducible to Justice.  
XV. MAGNANIMITY is the first of those Virtues, which have reference to Fortitude, or rather unto Sufferance. But it is sufficiently understood from Aristotle's Charaster of one that is Magnanimous. 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 4. c. 7, 8.  He is one (says he) who strives to do great Things, or what may be for great Ends, and by which he may acquire great Honor. He is not therefore so apt to run into frequent Dangers, as into great ones; not prompt for every Turn, but rather 〈◊〉 and deliberate; he will not rashly undertake 〈◊〉 great Matters, but with Counsel and good C●…tion; he is not much taken up with the Care o● worldly Concerns, as not thinking them either great enough, or of much account. But Honour 〈◊〉 in his esteem, as the highest of human-exter●… Benefits, inasmuch as he observes, 'tis the high est thing we have to pay, even to the Gods.  
Here we suppose our magnanimous Man to be so perfectly endowed; as that knowing his own Virtue, which is a Heavenly Gift, 〈◊〉 believes he ought not to be deprived by M●… of the Honour which should attend it.  
Yet if Men shall ungratefully refuse to do their Parts herein, he makes no Idol of this Honour, or of their popular Incense: For being conscious of his own single Virtue, he can there sit down as at a Feast. And th●s the Learned Paraphrast adds to his Character. That he is a Man who has greater considerati●… for Truth, and for his Duty than for Fame. And as Ennius also notes, He is one that carries Friendship and Enmity in an open Breast. For who need fly to Corners, or be ashamed of Truth, that being satisfied of his own Goodness, and ravished with the Joys of such a Blessing, must needs have Contempt for inferior Matters, and can sooner part with his Life, than renounce Virtue, or any Branch thereof.  
These are the chief Marks and Characters, that Aristotle gives the Magnanimo●…. And 'tis with good reason that Magna●…may is referred to Fortitude, and to Sufferance: 〈◊〉 we cannot possibly undertake great things, without much Labour and great Vexation, and those who voluntarily decline Ho●… and public Office, do it for the most ●irt upon the score of Ease.  
XVI. LENITY also is fitly referred to Forti●de, and to Sufferance; inasmuch as to bear Injuries is an Act of Patience, and to despise them, the property of a great Mind: So that from both or either of them, results Lenity; by which, though injured, we are not easily provoked to Resentments, at least, we can easily abstain from Revenge. And hereto refers that excellent Advice of Antoninus: 
Lib. 6. Sect. 47.  That it was highly estimable to live benignly, and to practice Truth and Justice, even among Men of no Truth, and of no Justice. For indeed nothing does more naturally try or stir up the Indignation of a generous Mind, than to see Men given over to Falsehood and Imposture.  
XVII. GENEROSITY differs herein from Magnanimity, that it seems to be a more common Virtue, and is not only restrained to great Honours, or to great Enterprises, but consists in this, That a Man exercise his own freedom and liberty of Thinking in the best manner he can; that he rest contented herein; and as to Fortune, and the World's Opinion, to look on them as things of indifferency; yet still to regard all Men with Civility, and to suppose them what they ought to be, till the contrary be made manifest.  
XVIII. CONSTANCY is a Virtue, 〈◊〉 which we are taught to be just and confo●… able to ourselves, in all things we do or 〈◊〉.  
Diligence is a Virtue, by which we prosecute indefatigably whatever we had good cause to undertake.  
Vivacity is defined by Andronicus, 
Lib. de Passionibus.  To he a firm and lively Aptitude in the Soul to perfect whatever is begun.  
But Presence of Mind seems to intimate a certain Promptitude of the Soul, to undertake what it ought, and therein to persist: So that it seems to differ but little from Diligen●s, He names also Strenuousness, which he makes to be an Habit that enables us to hold out in the laborious Searches of Virtue.  
Lastly, Manhood or Virility, is by him defined to be, A Virtue, by which a Man carri● himself stoutly, and with Circumspection through public Affairs. And he makes the principal. Functions hereof to consist, in being Intrepid as to Death, Bold in all Dangers, and to prefer an Honourable Exit before Shameful Living. These indeed are the Parts of Fatitude also.  
XIX. THERE now only remain those Virtues, which appertain to Temperance, or (if you will) to Continence.  
Such as Frugality, that is a Virtue, by which a Man, consulting both Temperance's and his own Condition, becomes more sparing in his Expense, yet so as not to be quite Parsimonious. From which Definitio●… 〈◊〉 plain, that Frugality is fitly referred unto Temperance, as is Liberality unto Justice: For this latter appertains to the Benefit of others, whereas the former has referenc to ourselves.  
XX. HUMILITY is a Virtue, by which we easily suppress and extinguish all inordinate Desires of Honour, Rule, and the Splendour of Riches; that so we may be able to fix our Minds upon better things. This conforms to the Mind of Marcus the Emperor, 
Marcus, l. 12. §. 27.  who advises a Man, In every Occasion that presents, to demonstrate himself just, prudent, and a plain follower of God.  
XXI. AUSTERITY is defined, by Andronkus Rhodius, to be, An Habit of the Soul that cannot bear any Lewdness either in Speech or Pleasures. Modesty seems nearly allied, as being a Virtue in the Soul, which chaseth early away all the Preparations to Sin; nay it cannot easily bear any thing that looks but suspiciously naught.  
XXII. As to the Slenderness of Diet in point of Quantity, and the plainness of it in reference to Cost, this seems something stricter than Frugality itself. Andronicus calls this latter, 
De Passionibus.  An habit of being content with any thing: And the first, An habit void of Desire to see Charge, or Preparation in any thing.  
For the Inoffensiveness of Gesture, it does consist, in Ordering the Figure and Motion of the Body, according to Decorum; and this makes it to be a part of Modesty.  
Contentment of Mind is an habit of being ●…sily satisfied with the common Conveniencies of Life. For, according to the old Observation, Nature is content with a very little.  
XXIII. THUS have we treated of the Redactive Virtues, with what Brevity we could. But as we dwelled not long upon them, so we judge it less needful to enumerate every Vice, since their Natures are known enough from the Doctrine of those Virtues which they contradict.  
However, as we still resolve not to go far, or meddle with every Vice, which some suppose to be as so many Extremes to Virtue; yet we shall presume to examine that Meducrity which Aristotle treats of, and in which the Nature of Virtue is made to consist.  
Much Contention is made herein; yet we shall venture to speak our Sense in the Chapter following.   

CHAP. IX. Of that Mediocrity, in which Virtue does consist: And of the true measure of such Mediocrity.  
I. THAT Virtue lies in a Mediocrity is not quite untrue, 
L. 2. c. 8. §. 7.  if rightly understood: Yet as some introduce Virtue attended, on each hand, with opposite Vices; and just as it were a Rose placed between two Nettles: This, we do confess, were a pretty Show, but it cannot possibly hold in every Case.  
II. FOR in the Case of Justice, where a Man takes no more than what is of right his due; this is plainly opposite to that part which is vicious, and where a Man takes more than what is his due. But here if a Man takes less; this surely seems no Vice, but rather a sort of Generosity, or Modesty. So again in the Conferring of Rewards, to bestow less than was agreed for, hath as much of Injustice, as to give according to Proportion is just: Yet to bestow more largely than was agreed for, is not, on the other hand, Injustice, but rather Liberality. So also, in the way of Buying and Selling; the over-weight that is thrown in to get a Customer's good Will, although either in Weight or Measure, it exceed the Bargain, yet surely this has nothing of Injustice in it.  
III. MOREOVER unto Prudence (which doubtless is a Moral Virtue) there is only Imprudence to be opposed, which is the Defect of Prudence. So to Sincerity is nothing opposite but Insincerity, or at large Hypocrisy, which exceeds or falls short of the Perfection of Sincerity. So Patience, Continence, and Suffering, do only go lame (as we say) on the one side, as namely, by Impatience, Incontinence, and by Effeminacy: So Temperance by Intemperance. And therefore to put (which some do) a sort of Insensibility, to answer as an opposite Vice on the other side, is quite without Reason. F●… (as Andronicus notes from Aristotle) 'tis scarce within Reach of Human Nature to be Insersible to such a Pitch: 
Lib. 3. Cap. 12.  And if any Man were so, this would look much more like a Disease of the Body, than a Vice of the Soul.  
BUT should it happen, that the Power of the Soul could be so far extended, as to be able to weigh down, and even extinguish the sense of every Corporeal Pain and Pleasure; this certainly were so far from being a Defect in the Soul, that it would rather amount to a wonderful Virtue and Perfection. And to abuse such Perfection would argue either Insincerity, or Imprudence However, if any Man will needs call it an Intemperate sort of Temperance, I will not much contend in the Matter.  
iv As to Fortitude, it seems properly enough placed between Boldness and Timerousness; Liberality between Niggardize and Prodigality; Truth between Arrogance and Dissimulation: Nor do we deny, but that somewhat like to this Equality, may happen in some few other Virtues. But this we think worthy of special Notice, That even from the Instances given, 'tis not very apparent that Virtue, according to it's most Internal Essence, is a Mediocrity. We rather suppose that according to the Definition given, it is some Intellectual Power is the Cause of that Mediocrity, which we observe as well in our Actings as our Sufferings. For in these Cases such Mediocrity appears: But as to Virtue herself, she must not pretend to go farther than in what barely is Just.  
V. NAY Virtue is rather an Extreme; And this not only as to its Wellbeing and Best Estate (which Aristotle himself consents to) but we call it an Extreme even as to its Essence and Definition. For how can Virtue, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 2. c. 6.  as to its Essence, be a Mediocrity; when Mediocrity, as we said, is only what we seek for, and adhere to, in those Objects about which Virtue is conversant; namely, in those Actings and Sufferings which befall us? Wherefore since Virtue is, according to it's own Nature, the best of Blessings that Mankind is capable of, and the most excelling Power and Perfection of our Souls; it cannot be better Defined than in styling it, The very Triumph and Inauguration of Human Nature; or its Supreme Good. And 'tis no more than what is due to the Essence of Virtue, that it should bear this high Pre-eminence: Wherefore it seems defectively said of Aristotle, That Virtue was only an Extreme as to its Wellbeing and Best Estate, but not according to its Essence. For even that Best Estate must of necessity be Part of Virtue's Essence, and both concur to the Top and Compliment of our Natures: Which is no more, than what the Pythagoreans have every where observed.  
VI 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 2. c. 9  WHEREFORE that Philosopher treads much more carefully, where he makes Virtue to consist in Finding and Electing a Medium, than when he makes Virtue itself that Medium or Mediocrity. For this is just as if one should call the Instrument, that is framed to find out two Middle Lines which hold a continued Proportion, to be the very Lines themselves: Or to say that a Pair of Compasses, which find or make the Centre of a Circle; are the very Middle or Centre itself.  
VII. LASTLY, When his Followers declare Virtue to be this Medium, they understand it in respect of two Things, which are Homogeneous or consonant to such Medium. For so Aristotle does illustrate it by Examples of Arithmetical Proportion, as well in Magnitude as Numbers: Although after all, he seems herein rather to have found the Medium Rei, than the Medium quoad Nos; I mean that which is rather true in Speculation than in Practice. But his Affecting to make it Hemogeneous, is hereby manifest, That, while he calls Virtue a certain Medium, he makes it to partake of either Extreme. Thus Andronicus (his Paraphrast) calls Virtue, The Middle of the Two Extremes falling short on the one side and exceeding on the other: Even as it appears in Fortitude, which to a certain Degree may be termed Confidence.  
BUT this can never hold: For while he this turns Confidence into Virtue (which still is defined to be a Thing absolutely good) if we suppose that such his Confidence were a Virtue to the Degree of three, it would follow, That such Confidence would doubly excel, if raised to the degree of six. But by such Logic, 〈◊〉 would become better than Virtue; which must never be understood.  
Wherefore we suppose, that Virtue is not the Medium itself, but rather the Finder and the Chooser of such Medium. Nay, we affirm, that such Medium is not singly discovered by the degrees of more or less, or of Excess or of Defect; but is also determined by other prudential Circumstances, even as Aristotle himself declares: namely, That the true Medium in Virtue, 
Ethic. Nicom. lib. 2. c. 6.  and that which is its very best, must be ascertained with regard unto Time, and to Occasions, and to the Persons with whom, or for whose sake we act, and to the manner of acting. So by this 'tis plain, that to pursue all Cases under the notion and fancy of a Mediocrity, were merely superstitious, if not altogether vain.  
VIII. I think it, for my part, sufficient, if what Virtue seeks out and electeth, be that which is Rectum or Right. 'Tis very true, that this Right itself seems also to be a certain middle thing; just as a Line, which is drawn upon another straight Line at Right Angles, is equally the Medium of all others, that can be drawn from the same Point, and that unequally vary from such Line. Wherefore the Pythagoreans were wont to say, 
Magn. Moral. l. 1. cap. 25. Nicom. l. 2. c. 5.  that Good was Uniform, and Evil Multiform. And Andronicus is positive, That this Right is something, which is of a Simple and Uniform Nature.  
IX. LET us also add, that this Rect●… (which Virtue pursues in all things) is termed Equal, 
Andronicus, l. 5. c. 4.  and a thing which holds Congr● and Proportion. For things congruous are a●… equal, as in Geometry is manifest. So that all these things point at a Mediocrity: For what i● greater or less than another, is not congruous. And therefore that aught to be the Medium, which is neither more or less; and which i● also called Equality.  
Upon the whole Matter, let us agree how fa● Virtue consists in a Mediocrity or Medium. 'Tis not that she herself is that Medium; but that our Souls do, by her Aid, elect that which i● congruous, or in the Middle: For thus only can that Sentence be true and solid.  
X. BUT now the Difficulty remaining will be, to establish something, unto which this Rectitude and Congruity (which Virtue every where seeks) is to conform. 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 6. c. 1.  Aristotle says, That what is congruous to Right Reason is right. And again, That the Medium, in every thing, is what Right Reason declares to be such. And so in his Definition of Virtue, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 2. c. 6.  That 'tis bounded with Reason: And he adds also, Even as a prudent Man shall determine thereof. As if by those Words he would stop any farther Inquiry, what kind of thing this Right Reason was, by which that which is right and congruous should be tried.  
Now, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 6. c. 5.  according to Aristotle, Right Reason is that which is conformable to Prudence. But then he himself elsewhere defines Prudence, To be a true Habit, exerting itself in what happens to a Man good or bad, according to Reason. But surely this sounds very odd, and is no better than a trifling Circle, to define Right Reason by Prudence, and Prudence again by Right Reason.  
XI. HOWEVER, if there be but Recourse had to that Definition of Prudence, which we before have delivered, the point will be fully resolved: For it will from thence appear that whoever is prudent is also of a Mind so cleansed and defecated, that the Light of Truth is not eclipsed in him, either by Passions, or any corporeal Impediments. And, for this Cause, let no Man wonder, if Right Reason be styled, That which is according to Prudence: For if the prudent Man, as to Life and good Manners, have it not, it can no where be found. Aristotle (in his Ethics to Nicomachus) is of the same mind. For the good Man (says he) judges all things aright; and Truth is visible unto him, wherever it be; and good things appear both proper and pleasant in every shape. And 'tis very possible that a good Man grows more excellent, if, while he finds Truth in others, he has cause to think that he himself was the Rule and Measure thereof. But as to Plebeians, they tumble into Error for Pleasure-sake, as counting that real Good, which is really otherwise.  
The same Author has other Passages to the like intent: For he makes Temperance, the only true Guardian and Conservator of Prudence: And that the sober Man is only wise, in all that concerns Probity of Life. He does not think that the Motives of Pleasure, or of Pain, can influence or pervert our Opinions, 
Eth. Nic. l. 6. c. 5.  as to the Doctrine of a Triangle, and it's having so many Angles as are equal unto two right ones, or the like: But as to Manners, and the Conduct of our Life, those Motives have, as he believes strange Influence. Nay, he supposes, that whoever is led by his Passions, and the Sense only of Pleasure or of Pain, is led as a blind Man that has lost his Eyes; and in whom the very Principles for his Direction are extinguished.  
XII. LET us therefore here applaud this wise Philosopher, for that Variety of Truth and of Utility, which redounds from this Advice. For 'tis plain from hence, that our Minds, being thus purged from Vanities and Passions, can, as in an instant, discern not only all that is worthy and valuable in human Affairs, but what is noxious or of no account. Next, we may gather from it that some things are valuable and worthy, even in their own Nature: since if they were not at all, 
L. 1. c. 6. § 12.  and had no Being, they could never be seen. But since they are seen and beheld by a clear and perspicacious Mind, 'tis of evidence they are such in their own nature, as they appear to be.  
Lastly, to waste time in disputing, whether any thing be (in its own Nature) laudable, before we take pains to reform our Minds in the way prescribed, is not only Labour lost, but a sort of Frenzy. And if we shall conclude that nothing is of its own nature honest and laudable, when at the same time we live in Vice and Wickedness, this is to be downright impudent; for we ought first to try, and then to give our Opinion. We have touched this point before, and therefore we need not dwell upon it any longer here.  
XIII. THERE is now but one thing more, to clear before us all the Difficulty that remains. For whereas it may sound as if we give up our prudent Man to Inspirations and to Enthusiasm; while we contend he cannot in any other respect be wise, than as his Mind is reformed and purged: and that it must also needs hence ensue, that whatsoever a Man so purged, shall afterwards imagine, must therefore be according to Right Reason, or Right Reason itself, merely because he thinks so: And that, in short, there must be no other Measure, or Principle; but that his Imagination shall be as the Standard of Congruity and of Right.  
Therefore it is necessary (as Andronicus Rhodius speaks) first to inquire and find out, What is the Mode and Standard of this Right Reason? And what that Principle in human Affairs that is just and congruous? For surely that alone is Right Reason, which to such Standard, Mode, and Principle, can be applied; and this must be some Primitive Good, which is not only most simple, but most excellent, and a true Basis, Norma and Standard, for all the rest.  
XIV. Now while I am in this high pursuit, I call to witness all that is holy, 
L. 1. c. 2. § 5, etc.  that in my Sense, there cannot, in the whole compass of Nature, be found a greater Good than is that Love, which (to free it from all other Imputations) we call Intellectual. For what can more fill, elevate, and irradiate the Soul than this intellectual Love? 
L. 3. c. 8. § 8.  Surely nothing is more exalted or Divine, nothing more ravishing, and complacent, nothing more sharp in distinguishing what in every Case is decorous and right, or more quick in executing whatsoever is laudable and just.  
Since therefore this is the most high and the most simple good; it ought in preference, to be the Rule and Standard of all the rest; and nothing should pass, or be accounted, for Right Reason, which from this Divine Source and Fountain did not take its Birth.  
XV. AND what is all this Intellectual Love, we so describe, 
Vid. Margin. supra.  but an inward Life and Sense, that moves in the Boniform Faculty of the Soul? 'Tis by this the Soul relisheth what is simply the best; thither it tends, and in that alone it has its Joy and Triumph Hence we are instructed how to set God before our Eyes; to love him above all; to adhere to him as the supremest Good; to consider him as the Perfection of all Reason, of all Beauty, of all Love; how all was made by his Power, and that all is upheld by his Providence. Hence also is the Soul taught how to affect and admire the Creation; and all the Parcels of it; as they share in that Divine Perfection and Beneficence, which is dispersed through the whole Mass: So that if any of these Parcels appear defective or discomposed, the Soul compassionates and brings help, strenuously endeavouring, as it is able, to restore every thing to that state of Felicity, which God and Nature intended for it. In short, it turns all its Faculties to make good Men happy; and all its Care and Discipline is to make bad Men good.  
XVI. THEREFORE I say, this most simple and Divine Sense and Feeling in the Boniform Faculty of the Soul, is that Rule or Boundary, 
V Marg. supr.  whereby Reason is examined and approves herself. For if she offers or affirms any thing that is contrary to the Sense and Feeling, 'tis spurious and dishonest; if congruous to it, 'tis Orthodox, fit, and just. So that we need not invent any other external Idea of Good; or follow those, who vainly dream of remoter Objects; when as this inward Life and Sense points singly at that Idea, which is framed not from exterior things, but from the Relish and intrinsic Feeling of the Boniform Faculty within. And although this Idea be but single and alone, yet from thence arise all the Shapes and Modes of Virtue and of Welldoing: And 'tis into this again, that all of them may, by a due and unerring Analysis, be resolved. For as all Numbers arise from Unity, and by Unites are all measured: so we affirm, that by this Intellectual Love, as from a Principle the most pure and most abstracted of all others, all the Modes and Kind of Justice, Fortitude, and even of Temperance itself, are to be measured: for nothing is so detrimental to lessen and extinguish this Love as is the Exercise and Infection of sensual Delights.  
XVII. Now, in the last place, if any shall object that we have done amiss; and that all this splendid Fabric of the Virtues is by us laid on a weak and tottering Foundation: As namely in Passion, such as they may suppose this our Love to be. Let them for their better Information, know, that this Love is not more a Passion than is Intellection itself, which surely they cannot but believe to be very valuable, and very Divine. 'Tis very true we may as to this point (with Des Cartes) allow, that all Intellection has so much of Passion, as it is the Perception of something imprinted from without. However, as this Perception, which is made by Intellection, is not from the Body, but rather from the Soul, exerting and exciting herself into such Action: So neither is this Love from the Body; but either from the Soul itself, or else from God above, who calls and quickens the Soul to such a Divine Effort. And though this Perception may, if they please, be termed a sort of Passion, yet 'twill derogate no more from the Dignity and Excellency of it, than from Intellection itself: Which, because 'tis an Act of Perception, may on that account be also termed a Passion.  
XVIII. YET when all is said, perhaps this Love, which we insist upon, may not so truly be termed a Passion, as acknowledged to be the Peace and Tranquillity of the Mind: nay a state of such Serenity, as hath no other Motions than those of Benignity and Beneficence. So that this Love may rather be thought a firm and unshaken Benignity, or Bounty of the Soul; such as has nothing more perfect, or more approaching to the immortal Gods. I mean hereby that State of the Blessed Spirits, unto which we ought all to aspire: and surely without this Love, those very Spirits would not be as Gods, but as a Race of Devils. And therefore we may conclude this Love, to be the most perfect, and the most Angelic Thing of all others; far excelling even Intellection itself. And, in truth, more aptly deserving those lofty Words, which Aristotle bestows upon the Speculative Intellect; where he says, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 10. c. 7.  That according to some Doctors we are not to converse with human things, although we are Men, nor with things transitory, although we are mere Mortals; but, as much as is possible, we should affect to live as do the immortal Gods: And this, by performing every thing in such sort, as conforms to that Principle, which is the most excellent thing within us. 
L. 10. c. 9  Now Andronicus (his Paraphrast) declares, This most excellent thing within us, to be the Intellect. But I beg leave to call it rather by the Name of Intellectual Love.  
Thus I end a Point, on which some may think I have insisted too long: But the whole will show our Sense of Virtue; and of its kinds; and how it may be said to consist in a Mediocrity; and what also is the Norma or Measure of such Mediocrity. The next Step will be touching Good that is external.   

CHAP. X. Of Good Things, which are External.  
I. 'TIS not only such Things as are placed without a Man, that we call External Goods; but whatever is placed without in respect to Virtue: I mean without which Virtue may consist in its Perfection, although such things may indeed pass as Ornaments to her, and as necessary Compliments unto Happiness. And these are threefold; either in respect of the Soul, of the Body, or of both. We will touch upon some particulars herein; and see how far they help, or how short they fall, as to the completing of Happiness.  
II. THINGS which relate to the Soul, are the Dexterity or Subtlety of the Wit, a vast and faithful Memory: Also Science, Art, and Sapience.  
To the Body, Strength, Agility, Comeliness, and Health.  
To both these, as they constitute Man, Wealth, Liberty, Nobility, Authority: And lastly the Friendship and Favor of many.  
Of all these we may say in short, that they are Good, and more to be desired than the things that are contrary to them: And yet that several of them are of such slender Account, that their Absence does no more obstruct the Perfection and Integrity of Happiness, than Mountains and Valleys do spoil the Roundness of the Earth, whose Magnitude makes those small Inequalities of no consideration. Scarce do those things add unto Happiness while present, or retrench from it when absent; inasmuch as they hold no Proportion with complete and perfect Virtue.  
III. I would fain know what great matter is gotten by Subtlety of Wit; if a Man be otherwise prudent, if his Mind be firm and unshaken, if he have Love towards his Neighbour, and Good Will for Mankind?  
I find Antoninus the Emperor, when he blamed his Parts for want of sufficient Activity, could yet console himself with this Reflection, 
L. 7. § 67.  That a happy Life was made up of very few things; and that, although a Man were neither Logician nor Philosopher, he might yet be generous, modest, a Lover of his Country, and obedient to God. On the other hand, to hear one lament his Unhappiness, for want of such high Subtlety, or Dexterity of Wit; is little other, than if a Man should complain he was not able to walk, because not able, as some Jugglers to dance upon a Rope.  
iv As to a strong and retentive Memory, which holds all fast, how many an honest Man is there that has it not? For, as Antoninus said before, so Aristotle also says, That those Noble and Divine Things, wherein Happiness did consist, were very few. Nay rather that it was but one certain thing, by which the Discrimination was made of things honest or vile, even as all Variety of Colours are judged of by the Eye. And hereto may refer that of Plato, That Truth was contained in a very narrow space. For the good and perfect Man is not so much actuated by a List of Precepts gotten without Book, as by living inwardly, and printing in his Mind a single and sincere Sense of Things. From this alone, he will be able to know whatever Duty lies incumbent on him; just as, by one Candle, a Man may see all the variety of Objects before him: And as all Colours of the Rainbow do arise from the Sun, so indeed the Distinction of all Duties have but the same single Source.  
But for exterior things, and such as are not reducible into this Diviner Sense: Let it suffice, if your Memory be as that of an old Man, who (as they say) does not easily forget whatever he takes to heart, and lets nothing go that may much afflict him if it be lost.  
V As to Science, Art, and Sapience; we do not conceive they are so very essential unto Happiness. For though Aristotle says, 
Andronicus, l. 6. c. 8.  That Science is about necessary Matters, and such as are not subject to Alteration; Yet this our Happiness does not consist in those immutable Things, but in the single Constancy of Mind, and in a steady Resolution to prosecute, in all our Actions, that which is simply and absolutely the best. And therefore, in that admirable Table of Cebes, they who thus pursue Virtue, are admitted within the second Pale; while others have no admission at all into the Palace of Safety, neither the Men of Logic, nor of Figures, nor of Geometry, nor Astrologers, Poets, Orators, or Musicians: But all alike, even as infamous or useless Fiddlers, are excluded and shut without.  
VI THAT Happiness, which is due to human Nature, is a plainer Thing, and a more common Good, than to be calculated only for Philosophers and Artists. Wherefore as Science is not to be counted a part of Happiness, so neither is that Art, 
Ethic. Eudem. l. 5. c. 4.  which Aristotle defines to be, A rational fabricating Habit. And by which he shows, it belongs unto Artists or Artificers.  
VII. MUCH less ought Sapience to pass for such an Essential; seeing Her Objects are Things singular, stupendous, difficult, and even Magical: Such as Anaxagoras and Thales of old are said to have studied, and which Aristotle upbraids a● unprofitable, and little availing to the Happiness of human Life. But as to Magical Things here spoken of, his Meaning appears by his defining in that place, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 6. c. 7.  Sapience to be the Skill and Understanding of those Things which in Nature have the chiefest Excellence. And a while after, That there were other things, which by Nature were far Diviner than Men; as those illustrious and conspicuous Objects, whereof the World was framed. 'Tis these therefore are those Magical Matters, that are called Objects of Sapience, and which are reputed more Divine and Excellent than Man. But yet for any Science herein, 'tis so far from being necessary to Happiness, that Aristotle will scarce allow it to be useful.  
VIII. NOW although perfect Happiness, which is that Pleasure that ariseth from a Sense of Virtue, and a Conscience of Welldoing, may want Science, Art, and Sapience; yet we must also affirm, 
Lib. 6. c. 7.  that such Intelligence as, by Andronicus, is defined, To be the Knowledge of Principles, can by no means be separate from Happiness. For 'tis in truth impossible that a Mind, which is purified and influenced by true Prudence, can be so blunt or stupefied, as to admit any Doubt concerning the Principles of Science.  
IX. FOR what concerns Bodily Endowments, we may venture to say that Strength, and Agility, are more the Happiness of the Bull, and of the Squirrel, than of a Man. Nay a brawny and robust Habit is so far from adapting Men to Virtue, that the Sense of refined Things is often dulled and suffocated thereby. And it would be as unreasonable to expect that all good Men should be Robust and Agile, as to compel them all to be Racers, or good at Fisticuffs.  
X. As to Beauty or Comeliness, the plain Truth is, it has a Charm; for it draws Favor, and strangely turns the Minds of the Beholders: and even Virtue itself is indebted to the Ornaments it bestows, 
Gratior est pulchro veniens de corpore Virtus.  
Beauty, when with Virtue joined,  
Gives a lustre to the Mind.  Yet after all, 'tis but a poor Ingredient of solid Happiness. It seems rather to be another's good than our own. If we had not a Looking-Glass, we could know nothing of it. Whereas internal Beauty needs no such help, the Mind is satisfied of itself, and 'tis a continual Feast.  
XI. HEALTH, I confess, is one of the chiefest Blessings, and 'tis certainly necessary to complete Happiness; at least such a Proportion thereof, as may exempt the Body from Torture, and the Mind from Rage and Distraction. For whatsoever shall either extinguish the Operations of the Mind, or compel them to Evil, and there detain them, must either destroy Happiness, or make it very imperfect.  
XII. AMONG the good Things of Fortune, whether Liberty or Wealth be best, has been a Doubt. I for my part have still preferred the first; especially since Wealth implies somewhat of abounding, with which a good Man may well dispense. Wherefore the Loss of Wealth would in no degree afflict me like that of Liberty, so as a Competency were but left for Life. And I should think it more Gentle, as well as more Tolerable, to be deprived of those things which are superfluous to Happiness, than to be trusted with too much. For if the top of human Felicity consists in Virtue, 'tis much if it be not damnified by Temptations which Plenty draws us into.  
In the Cases even of Want and Servitude, they seem nothing dreadful; if they are but so qualified, as not to hinder the Mind in the Exercise of Virtue, nor to extinguish the Sense of that Pleasure, 
L. 2. c. 10. § 19  which a pious Soul takes in submitting to God. For to him, who gives up his Will and Affections to a Conformity with the Divine Providence, there are certain Raptures of Joy, which a Sense of that Obedience, and that Resignation affords him.  
XIII. As for Nobility, that this is not needful for Happiness seems herein evident, that 'tis but a Shadow of Ancestors Virtue, which is cast upon Posterity. And if this Shadow be any Thing; how great then is Virtue itself, which can so gild, and for Ages to come so glorify, a Race of Men by her mere Reflection? Surely where Virtue herself is present (whose Rays could do so much) what Blessings will not this great Parent of solid happiness bestow? He that has Virtue, will stand in want of Nobility no more, than does the Sun of that Light, which is borrowed from him, I mean, the Light of the Moon.  
Wherefore bare Nobility makes but little towards Happiness: But if the Virtue also of Ancestors shall descend upon their Posterity, than indeed it has equal, if not a greater Force towards Human Felicity, than if Virtue were destitute of that Help.  
XIV. BUT if Nobility be not necessary to a happy Life, much less is Empire and Authority. For no Man will hold, that Princes only and Magistrates are happy; since the Number of them is so few, in respect of other Mortals: since also they are vexed with Cares, and encompassed about with Dangers.  
XV. LASTLY, As to Friendship, it must be confessed, that Favor, and the good Will of Men, adds a wonderful Complacency to Life, as well as Security. And indeed Virtue can hardly stand without it; especially if such Friendship be attended with perfect Sincerity, and with a certain sweetness of Behaviour and Benignity of Mind. Besides all Men of Probity are in a sort confederated; and being by Virtue, as by a Mark of Distinction put constantly in mind of the Relation and Consanguinity which ties them together, they look upon themselves as obliged, to cherish and assist each other.  
But if it be a Man's hard Hap, to live and converse only among the wicked, we must then depend upon the Protection of the Laws. For, as Aristotle rightly takes notice, 
Lib. 1. c. 7.  the Rules of Policy and the Doctrines of Morality, do 〈◊〉 aim at the same thing. And Andronicus handsomely expounds it, saying, That the same Advantage is sought for, as well from every single Man, as from the City or Government. So that a good Man will want but little as to solid Felicity, if he may get what belongs to him even by Natural Right. Nor does that celebrated Example of Damon and Pythias seem more to refer to Friendship, than it does to Justice and Equity.  
Wherefore Virtue, and especially among good Men, or in a good Government, seems not to want, or stand in need of more Favour, than she is able to prevail for, upon her own Account.  
XVI. HOWEVER, that I may disguise Nothing, it is manifest, that Iniquity is sometimes interwoven in the very Texture of the Laws, and in those more especially that have regard unto Religion. And it often happens that for the Cause of Truth and Virtue, we fall into the Displeasure and Hatred of Men: For vicious Minds can no better endure the Trials of Virtue and of Truth, than vitiated Eyes can endure the Sun. Of this poor Socrates found sad effects; and so have innumerable others, as well Christians as Jews. In this Case, 'tis certainly more advisable to converse but with a few, and those of the most approved Integrity. But if there be no faithful Companions of this sort, there is no other Remedy left, but to withdraw, and embrace Solitude: Which however, 
Politicorum, l. 1. c. 2.  (in Aristotle's Opinion) no Man can be contented with, but either he becomes a God or a Beast. Yet, in my Sentiment, a good Man, even in this State, ceases not to be joyful, and happy: for though he be not a God, yet he bears about him somewhat that is Divine; And, while he can feel and contemplate the Joys thereof, he can want nothing that is essential to true Happiness.  
XVII. BUT if it shall happen that Men will still be malevolent, and by their ill Nature give Disturbance even to this Peace and Retirement: Here, I confess, there wants not only the Friendship of Equals, but rather Patronage from the powerful, which might avert this Malice, and retort the envenomed Darts. Yet if none of these may be had; let the good Man, filled with the Conscience and Sense of God, betake himself to the Armour of Patience, Fortitude, and Magnanimity. Let him revolve on that of Epictetus, 
Enchiridion. c. 75.  Now gins the Fight, and the Olympics are now at hand: And let him suffer every Fortune, and Life itself to be ravished from him, rather than not persist and overcome.  
XVIII. NOW if any Man shall here ask, In what condition is our good Man left, when fallen from all Felicity, stripped of Friends, and destitute of all Protection? Let him remember that this Question has not a bare reference to want of Friends, but involves all Calamities, and the highest Desolation that Mortals are subjected to. In this Case we may consider what Aristotle has said, in the Words of his Interpreter Rhodius, 
L. 1. c. 17.  'Tis true, Misfortunes afflict the just Man, and force him to stagger, and disable him in many of his good Works. However as he bears all with equal Temper, not stupefied or insensible, but, with a magnanimous Soul; the very Splendour of Virtue shines out in the midst of all his Suffering. For since Happiness has its being in the Operations of Virtue, and that such Operations do govern the Life of him that is happy; 'tis impossible that any happy Man can be made miserable, because he will never engage in what is odious and vile. He also adds, That the happy Man looks not that all things should flow in according to his Wish, but he makes the best of his present Fortune. And hence it is that he can never be made miserable, though he fall into the greatest Miseries: For it can only be said of him in respect of Fortune, he will not be basely happy. But the Words of Aristotle himself are a little more dejected, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 1. c. 10.  where he says, That a Man cannot be called happy, if he falls into the Calamities of King Priamus. And yet, even in this Estate, he will not allow him to be called miserable.  
XIX. BUT although this more moderate Saying of Aristotle may have place in such Calamities as do accidentally befall us; yet where we suffer for Virtue's sake, and by the Iniquity of the wicked, the Reason is far different. For if Man, in his greatest Sufferings, do not abandon God and Virtue, neither shall he be abandoned by them. 
L. 2. c. 10. § 12.  The Sharpness of such a Conflict is so far from impairing his Happiness, 
L. 3. c. 10. § 15.  that it seems rather to augment and carry it higher: For the Operations of Virtue, in which the very Life of Happiness does consist, are propagated and exalted by such Conflict. 'Tis not to be doubted, but where Patience is so invincible, the Mind is attended and supported by some Motions, which are not only generous, but plainly Divine. And let us not think of Socrates, that it was for vain Ostentation, but from his Experience of the World (from clear Divination, and a solid Fortitude of the Mind) that he pronounced those undaunted Words in Epictatus; 
Enchiridion. c. 79.  If the immortal Gods think fit to have it so, even so let it be. And though my Accusers, Anytus and Melitus, can deprive me of life, yet can they do me no hurt.  
And this in brief as to External Good.    

THE THIRD BOOK.  

CHAP. I. Of .  
I. WE have hitherto treated about the way to know Happiness, or rather Virtue; which is the principal part of Happiness, if not its full Perfection: The next thing is about the way to attain it. And in this part we shall be the rather brief, since what is hitherto delivered goes far to that End: And we are not willing to have that swelled which we only call an Epitome. So then we shall here expose what may look like Heads of Meditation in the Search of Virtue, rather than any extended Treatise of it.  
II. BUT before we can well enter into this Province, there is a thing called Free Will, of which it is needful previously to speak: since till this be cleared and asserted, all Exhortation to Virtue seems but in vain.  
Aristotle has sometimes proposed a Famous Question, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 10. c. 10. Eudem. l. 7. c. 14.  (but Plato in his Menon handles it more largely) and it hath affinity with this our Subject of ; as namely, Whether Virtue gets into Men by Custom, or by Nature, 〈◊〉 by some Divine Fate (which is the same as Good Fortune?) There are some Men extremely scandalised at the Affirmative Part of this Question; as thinking it a derogation from Humane Nature, to make Men at this rate necessarily Good, and to deprive them of all . For they judge a Thing voluntarily done, to be of far different Merit from what happens by Compulsion: Which yet (I confess) sounds to me; as if God, who is Good, should be the less Adorable, because he cannot be Naught. 
L. 1. c. 3. §. 7.  For I will presume that whoever is Good, either by Nature or the Divine Fate, is also endowed with so true and efficacious a Sense of Honesty, that he can no more go against this Sense, than that a sober Man should stab himself with a Dagger.  
III. WERE there but a Race of such Men; they were of all others the most fitted for Heroes; and as deriving Virtue from the Gods: 'Tis of such that Homer speaks, 
— Nec eum esse putares  
Mortali Genitore satum, at Genus esse Deorum.  
You'd think a Man of such Heroic frame  
Not made below; but that from Heaven he came.   
Aristotle quotes this very Verse in his Description of Heroical Virtue; 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 7. c. 1.  and thinks such Virtaid more given from Above, than the product of Human Industry. My Opinion is, That if all such Force or Power from above were United; and either by Impression or Inspiration fixed in the Mind at once; yet it might properly be called Virtue. For, according to our Definition, Virtue is a Pow● or Energy, 
L. 1. c. 3. §. 1.  not a Habit. And though Habit be a sort of Power, asising from Exercise and Custom; yet this very Way and Circumstance of acquiring Virtue, is nothing material, as to the true Nature of it. For if this Power or Energy be got within us, and operates in our Souls as by a Native Spring or Elasticity, what matter is it, whether it came by repeated Actions, or by Inspiration?  
IU. BUT forasmuch as the Blessings of this Kind come rarely (if at all) to the Lot of any; we need not over labour the difficulty of this Point. We need not study Admonitions for such sorts of Men, who by Nature or some Divine Fate, are already so well and so necessarily inclined: but rather press and convince the necessity of Virtue unto other Mortals; who, while they may exercise the Liberty of their Wills to either side, should be urged and excited by all that can be said, to incline their WINS to that side, where Right Reason, and a Sense of their Duty, calls them.  
V THEY must, above all things, be told of that Excellent, and almost Divine Pre●…inence which they enjoy. For while all other Creatures have their Senses tied down to the service of the Body, or some particular Delights; they can mount alo●t, and are enabled by a Liberty in their Wills, to shake off, 〈◊〉 gradually destroy those ill Desires, with which they are beset; and, by the help of Heaven to assert that Liberty, which is most suitable to a Creature made by God's Image, and a partaker of Divine Sense.  
VI AND as this is a most true Persuasion, and hath wonderful Power among Men, to draw them to Virtue, and also to corroborats their, Minds against the Allurements or Assaults of Vice; Let those Men be ashamed who have so tampered with Mankind to persuade the contrary. This (in truth) has been vigo●usly and studiously attempted by Mr. Hebb●, in his Book, Of Liberty and Necessity; But we think his principal Arguments are all said low, 
Lib. 2. Cap. 3.  in our Treatise of the Soul's Immortality, unto which we therefore refer.  
VII. IN the mean time; I cannot here for●…. That where, among other Motives, he con●…nds to have Man's Will necessarily deter●… to any profligate Action; He owns, that 〈◊〉 his Opinion of Necessity takes place a●…ng the rest. But certainly, if that false Opinion have such Force, 
L. 3. c. 1. §. 25.  as to what is Vicious and Bad; it follows, That the true Opinion, ●…thing Liberty to fly from Evil, deserves equal Force at least, as to Virtue and good Life: And therefore, that a Persuasion, so efficaciously contributing to our Advantage, should be adhered unto, and strongly contended for by us.  
VIII. BUT to make the truth of this Opinion more manifest; Let us take Notice what this Liberum Arbitrium or  is; and then Demonstrate that there is really such a Principle within us. First, Liberty of the Will, which the Greeks call Autexousion, seems almost to imply, The having a Power to Act 〈◊〉 not Act within ourselves. Now in that  is a Principle of Acting within one's self, it so far agrees with what the Greeks call Hecousion, which is the same as Spontaneous: And which (as Andronicus defines it) is that, Whose Principle of Acting is wholly in the Age●…. 
Lib. 3. Cap. 1.  Yet what he strait subjoins in the same Chapter, saying, That in what a Man Acts, as moved thereunto by himself, he is Lord and Master of Doing it, or letting it alone. This I think is not altogether so exact.  
For a Man may Act out of his own mere Motion; that is to say, from such inbred Principles of Virtue, and by so strong and efficacious a sense of Honesty, as not to be able to act otherwise, or to draw his Will to any different Thing. For instance, an Honest Man has Power indeed, by his Wit and bodily Force, treacherously to destroy an Innocent Man, and even one that has well deserved of him. But can that Honest Man do this Thing? No, God forbidden! He dare not let himself do it. For that vigorous and ●…ely sense of what is Honest, and with which his Mind is tinctured and possessed, can by no means permit him to execute so horrid a Villainy. Now as such a Person, though never so much solicited by Promises and Rewards, starts back, and (in the sense of Antonine) stops all his Faculties of Motion, and does not resign himself to so base a Fact; this doubtless is entirely from himself, and none else is the Cause, why that Advantage is not taken. However, I say, he is not, in this Case, so much Master of his Forbearance, as that it is in his power not to forbear. I grant (indeed) that if he would, he were able to commit so wicked a Thing; but that he is able to Will it, or bring his Will unto it, is what I utterly deny.  
IX. WE say therefore there is some Difference between having , and being a Voluntary or Spontaneous Agent. The former is more restrained and particular, and obtains in fewer Cases; the latter is more large and general. When we say that a Man has liberum Arbitrium or , we add a particular Difference to the general Notion of Voluntariness, that is to say, We suppose he is such a voluntary Agent, as can Act and not Act as he pleases: Whereas to the being a voluntary Agent, simply or generally speaking, there is no such Difference required. It is sufficient to denominate any Agent to be such, 
Andronicus, Lib. 3. Cap. 2.  whose Principle of Action is in himself, and who understands and takes cognizance of his own Actions and the Circumstances that relate to them: The, in the mean time, it may not be in his Power, every time he Acts, to Act otherwise than he does.  
This now being the Notion of Spontaneous or Voluntary; we see plainly what is the Opposite to it; namely, every thing that proceeds either from Ignorance, or Outward Force. Whatever Action is done from either of these Principles, must needs be inspontaneous and involuntary. For in the one Case (that of Force) the Agent does not act from his own Principles, but is compelled from without: In the other Case (that of Ignorance) though he act from his own Principle, yet he has no Notice of the Moral Circumstances of the Action, which if he had known, he would not have done that Action.  
X. BUT now as to Liberum Arbitrium, or Freedom of the Will; what we call by that Name is only that sort of Spontaneity or Voluntariness in us; which is so free and undetermined, that it is in our Power, to Will or Act this way or the other way, as we please. This (I say) is properly ; and it supposeth a free Election or Choice in ourselves: And accordingly A●dronicus (from Aristotle) defines it to be, 
Lib. 3. Cap. 4.  A deliberate Wisssing or Appetition of those Things, which are within our Power. For those things (says he) are the subjects of Deliberation, whereof every one is Master to do them, or to leave them undone: And these are those very Things, which he declares to be within our Power.  
Now this Power of not Acting, when it regards those things which are Base and Dishonest, is a great Perfection; But when it has respect to things that are Noble and Honest, 'tis a great Imperfection: For 'tis in the very next Degree to Acting dishonestly, to be able to incline the Will towards an Action that is vile.  
However, to know we are able, and possessed with a Power to abstain from a vile Thing (though possibly we do not abstain) this is a sort of Perfective State, and of high Consequence for a Man to discover in himself whether he have it or no.  
Now that such a real Power is planted in Man, of being able to abstain from doing ill, though he fails at some times to exert that Power, is very plain from the Instances that follow.  
XI. WE need not bring hereunto any other Help, than what was noted before, in the Chapter about the Interpretation of the Passions. For as we feel the Checks of Conscience after doing some things which were doubtingly Acted, and without mature Deliberation: Even from hence it is manifest, that we sometimes. Act so, as that to have Willed and Acted otherwise, was in our Power. And this Power, of abstaining from Ill, is that very Thing, which is truly called .  
XII. THE Reason also of Repentance, is close of Relation hereunto. For when we are captivated by some Appetite, and commit what we know, and are very sensible, is against the Dictates of Honesty; 'tis of these things we are afterwards said to Repent. 'Tis not said, We lament such things as Misfortunes; which they ought in reason to pass for, if either by Fate, or a necessary Chain of Causes, we were always destined or irresistibly determined to them, and that it had never been within our Power or Capacity to have avoided them. 
Lib. 2. Cap. 3.  For no Man Reputes himself of his Misfortunes, but of his Sins; because these are committed by his own Crime, when he might have abstained, and done otherwise. But to Repent of Sins, which were never in our Power to withstand; is as if a Man should greatly lament his Improbity and Malice, or undertake some sharp Penance, 
L. 2. c. 1. §. 15.  for not having been Created an Angel, or else born a Prince. As to the like Effect we have hinted before.  
XIII. BUT, in the last place, To what purpose do we reprehend some Men for what they act, pardon others, and have pity on the rest; if Mankind be destitute of ; If it be not given him, to turn away from what is Vile, and to embrace what is Laudable and Just: For we might, in point of Justice, insist upon it, that if Men are tied to Sin, and do it by Necessity, and cannot otherwise act; there is both Pardon and Commiseration due unto them: Also by how much a Man's Sins were crying and flagitious, by so much would they become the more worthy of such Pardon and Moral Pity. But since these things are repugnant to common Sense, and the inbred Characters of our Mind; it follows of Necessity, that we must acknowledge some Actions, at least, of Man to be Free: that is to say, that they spring from such a Principle, as we have out of Aristotle described, and which we call . And we hope no Man will doubt hereof, when we shall have satisfied the Two Principal Objections, wherewith the Champions of the other side do so loudly, and with such Clamours contend.   

CHAP. II. Two Principal Objections against  are Proposed and Answered.  
I. THE first Objection ariseth from God's Foreknowledge; which (they say) must take away all Contingency, and, 
L. 1. c. 11. §. 5.  in Consesequence, the Liberty of Man's Will.  
The second is taken from the Nature of Good, although but Apparent: For as often or as long as any thing seems Good or Excellent to any one in the Circumstances he then is in, his Will is necessarily compelled to embrace it, because there is no Motive either to diver● him, or suspend his Assent. For since the Will of Man is so framed, as to bend this Way or that, according to the Weight and Importance of the Object; it seems impossible it should not bend, where most Reason compels, and when nothing is in the other Scale to counterpoise it: Nay, if something should be in the other Scale, yet still that Good which is most Apparent will certainly outweigh. For there is no Reason to be rendered, why a Man should be prevailed on by a lesser Good, more than by no Good at all: Since if, in the Scale of Reason, that which is Less should weigh down that which is Greater, than a Less than that, till it came to Nothing, would preponderate; and also our Reason and Election would thus be moved by Nothing: Both which are absurd to Believe.  
Wherefore the Will evermore inclines to that Good which is most apparent; and upon that account 'tis necessarily determined to One Thing: Whence it comes to pass, that we have no such thing as  in us, and that we could never have acted otherwise than as we have already done.  
II. AS to the first of these Objections, the Answer is not hard. 'Tis true, we cannot otherwise think of God's Fore knowledge, but to be every way clear and perfect, and without possibility of Error, as to those Objects about which he judges or does pronounce. And firely he does always judge and determine of things according as they are; that i● to say, of ●contingent thing, that it is contingent; and of a necessary thing that it is necessary. Whence is comes to pass, that those things, which are comingent and proceed from a Free Principle of Acting, they are allowed to be such by God's Consent. For we ought not to confine God's Omniscience within narrower Bounds ●…n we do his Omnipotence, which all Men acknowledge to be able to do whatever does not imply a Contradiction.  
And therefore, to disparch this Difficulty in afew words: We say that the Foreknowledge of contingent Effects, which proceed from a free Principle of Acting, does either imply a Contradiction, or it does not. If it does imply a Contradiction, than such Effects are not the Objects of God's Omniscience, nor determined by it, or rightly supposed to be determined at all. But if it do not imply a Contradiction, than we actually confess, that Divine Prescience and Man's Free Will, are not inconsistent, but that both of them may s●ly stand with each other. Therefore by neither way, can any sound or convincing Argument be drawn from God's Foreknowledge against the Liberty of Man's Will.  
III. AS to the other Difficulty, the whole Sense thereof falls within this Proverbial Saying, Nemo est lubens Malus, aut Beatus invitas; that is, 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 3. c. 5.  No Man is willingly Wicked, or Happy against his Will: Or else into that saying of Socrates, Omnis Improbus ignorat, That no Man was Wicked, but through Ignorance. Which sounds as if the Will of Man wanted nothing, but the Knowledge of what was Good and Virtuous, to force him to embrace it: Nay, that the Will was so framed, as not to be able to resist that Good, which it did but once understand. Now if this were true, there would not need so much Exhortation to the love of Virtue, as to the Study of Wisdom; Nor would the Liberty of Man's Will consist so much in Pre-election, as in Counsels and Deliberations: and these to be still so Governed, as that nothing should prove repugnant to some Excellent End.  
IU. WHEREFORE inasmuch as we find that Idea of the chief End, which is termed Beatitude or Happiness, to be but confusedly apprehended by us; 'tis every Man's Duty with principal Care to find out, in what this chief Happiness doth consist, and how we may attain it: Yet whether all this be placed within every Man's Reach, is a very hard thing to determine.  
We see, the Bulk of Mankind are like those; who, falling sick of a Disease and not knowing how to cure themselves, aught to be visited by others that are in Health, and from them take Remedies and Advice. So the Generality, that see little of themselves, while they are dazzled by false Lights and the bare Apparitions of Good, can never discover, What is the Ultimate Good, and what the most Excellent Object of Human Life. For (as Aristotle observed) all men seek after Apparent Good; 
Ethic. Nicom. l. 3. c. 5.  nor are they Masters of their own ●…agination; but every Man frames a different Good to himself, according to his Complexion.  
V 'TIS in the Third Book of his Ethics, that the Philosopher proposes this Question; and yet he does not otherwise clear it, than by granting, That it was some time or other in the Power of those, who now are Blinded, to have beheld what was truly Good; and that Men are not less willingly Bad than Good: But this does not directly satisfy the Objection. Also he is pleased to expose it with more Words and Ornaments than is usual with him, as in manner following, That no Man is to himself the Cause of doing Ill, but that such Things are done by Ignorance of the End, and as Hoping he shall thereby attain what a Best for him. That the Desire of the End falls not within our Choice: but that it imports every Man to be so born, as Naturally to See and Discern that what he chooseth is truly Good: And he, who has this Felicity by Birth, is as it were Inspired, and much obliged to Nature. For he shall possess that High and Excellent Good, which could never have been had either by Purchase, or by Instruction, had it not come by Birthright. And thus to be born, and under so benign a Planet, is the true Perfection of Ingenuity.  
VI SINCE therefore this Natural Talon, or inherent Aptitude, which is so capable ●f Virtue and the Sense of all Good Things, is antecedent to all our Industry (as being the Gift of Nature, and not the Reward of our Care and Diligence) if a Man be destitute hereof, 'tis manifest that the Duties and Performances, required by Virtue, are not in his Power; Neither can the soundest Admonttions find Effect or Obedience with him, 〈◊〉 less he be awakened by Stripes and Force, or unless he be reformed by something of Miracle from Above. But whether any are so utterly deprived of this Natural Aptitude, or by what Fate it befalls them, if they are so; is to me so hard and perplexing a Question, that I had rather wholly decline it, than involve myself within such Mysteries of Providence.  
VII. HOWEVER, as to those, who are so endowed as to have some Native Foretaste of this high and Excellent Good; it seems to be placed within their Power, either to acquire to themselves a clearer and more extended Knowledge therein, or else to let that by degrees extinguish which already they have. Into which Error, if they shall unhappily run; 'tis with the same reason they may be said to be Willingly wicked, as of the Intemperate man, that he throws himself Wilfully into a Distemper. 
L. 3. c. 6.  And of whom Andronicus speaks in this sort, Before the Man fell sick, it was in his own Power to have preserved his Health: But when Health is lost by Incontinence and De●…h, it is not in his Power to Recover it. So 〈◊〉 Man may throw a Stone to the Bottom of the 〈◊〉, but being cast thither he cannot recover it: ●…ever the Stone was willingly cast by him, 〈◊〉 was in his Power, either to Cast, or to have ●…th-held it.  
VIII. AS for those Men, who throw off all Distinction of Things Honest and Vile; who have no other Sense than of the Animal life; who consider only for themselves, be it ●…ght or Wrong; who think that Good is but of one Sort, and this only referable to Animal Content (or if, perchance, they think Good to be various, yet still they six and appropriate all to themselves;) In such Men as these, I 〈◊〉 confess, their Will is perpetually determined to what is the most apparent Good. They enjoy no more Liberty than Brutes, whose Appetite is necessarily tied down to the greater Good: For they have but one single Principle of Acting, and 'tis but one 〈◊〉 of Object that is before their Senses. And 〈◊〉 this single Case 'tis confessed, that the Second Objection has its Force.  
IX. BUT when we consider, how there is a double Principle in the greatest Part of Mankind; the one Divine, and the other ●…mal. 
L. 1. c. 6. §. 4.  How that the Voice and Dictate 〈◊〉 the Divine Principle, is ever for that which is simply and absolutely the Best; and Virtue ●…pposeth, in every of our Thoughts or Acti●…s, that which is most conforming to the Eternal and immutable Law of Reason: Which (in Tully's Opinion before mentioned) is the common Standard both to God and to ourselves. When also, on the other side, we consider that the Animal Principle dictates nothing to Man, but what to himself is either good, pleasing, or advantageous; that is, what may be grateful to himself alone, though it never so much violate that Law, or Universal Reason of things, before spoken of. 
L. 1. c. 6. §. 4.  I say, that from the Conflict and Opposition of these two Principles, we have a clear Prospect, what is the Condition, and what the Nature, of that  whereof we treat.  
X. THIS is a thing, which all Men have experience of, that at some times, and even then when we behold clearly what were best and most consonant to the Divine Law; yet we do not excite our Minds to it; or put on that Courage, which we know we have, to pursue so fair and so fit an Object; but yield and go on wherever the Stream of Pleasure, or of our own Utility, will carry us. But certainly we have the more to answer for herein; as at the same time we are inwardly conscious, it is in our Power to overrule all external Motions of the Body. And that, if we would obey such Power, and abstain from acting, there would nothing of that Gild ensue, which for Self-Interest or Concupiscence we too frequently incur.  
XI. IN the mean time, while such Men at these do still go on, and still delude themselves with Apologies for their Sloth and Imporality (as either trusting to the Divine ●obdness for Pardon, or else putting off their Amendments to a further Day) 'tis manifest, that although they do persist to satisfy their ill Defres', and postpone their Repentance to fu 〈◊〉 time: yet are they convinced, it were 〈◊〉 better, if already done; and that 'tis e●…ally now, as well as hereafter, within their Power to do it. And this is enough to show, ●ow plainly, even these confess the Liberty of Man's Will.  
XII. AND thus is it made evident, that 'tis not necessary, that Man's Will should still be carried on to the greater (that is, to the more excellent) Good. For it may, according to the Liberty it hath, desert what is absolutely the best; and either close with what is most wateful to the Animal Life, or suffer itself to 〈◊〉 captived by it, for want of exerting the Power and Faculties it hath.  
XIII. AND here I do as freely confess, that were there no other Life or Law in us, than to relish and pursue what were most for our particular Pleasure, and not that which is the most simple and most absolute Good, (which assuredly is some Divine Thing, and by Nature congruous and consonant to that Eternal Wisdom, which has framed and does preserve the Universe) it would be hard to prove, that we had any ; or that our Will was not necessarily determined to some one thing, which, in all Deliberations, appeared to us for the best.  
XIV. BUT, on the other side, it is pla●… and manifest to me, that this Divine Law is 〈◊〉 perfectly in us, as the Animal; and that Right Reason is that Law (and it is a high Gift and Blessing of God unto mortals) by which we are taught, and stand bound, to prefer public Good before our private, and never to make our own Pleasure or Utility to be the Measure of human Actions. And whoever he be, that thinks himself justly discharged from the Obligation of this Heavenly Law; I am bold to affirm, he deserves to pass for the most vile, as well as most contemptible, Creature upon Earth.  
XV. THUS much of , and with what Brevity and Perspicuity we are able. For what concerns the chief Arguments, or rather Sophisms of Mr. Hobbs; we have sufficiently refuted them in our Treatise Of the Immortality of the Soul: 
Lib. 2. c. 3.  Whereunto the Reader is already referred. So that we now pass to those Theorems or Precepts, which are useful in the acquiring of Virtue.   

CHAP. III. Theorems, which are of general Use, in the Acquiring of Virtues.  
I. THE Theorems or Precepts, which are subservient to the acquiring of Vir●…, are either General or Special.  
And the General are reduced to three Heads. 

1. To prove that we ought to labour after ●…ue.  
2. That 'tis in our Power to attain it.  
3. To add a few officacious Precepts to ●hat End.    
II. THAT we ought to pursue Virtue, and fly 〈◊〉 Vice, is a thing clearly manifest to us by 〈◊〉 S●nse and Dictate of Conscience. More●… that we are obliged to perform all the ●…ies of Virtue, is plain, from that Law of ●eason, which God has implanted in us: for 〈◊〉 Intellect, or Right Reason, which is in 〈◊〉 is a superior thing; and all other Facul●… are, by Natural Right, subjected to its Oedience. But the Law of Virtue, and of ●…ght Reason, is altogether the same. For ●…tue seeks nothing in every Action, but ●hat is simply the best, and that which to ●ight Reason is most consonant. And since ●…s Law of Virtue, and Right Reason, is not ●y positive or arbitrary Thing, but of a Na●…e eternal and immutable; we cannot therefore doubt, but we are bound to obey its Precepts and Directions by an eternal and indissoluble Obligation.  
III. FURTHERMORE all Men are bound, by the common Law of Nature, to do what appertains unto them; I mean, those things which are consonant to their own Natures. So that Men should live like Men, and not as Brutes; but certainly if Life wants the Fruit of Virtue and of Right Reason, 'tis not manly but merely brutal.  
Whatever is in us, beneath Virtue and Right Reason, must not (as Plotinus says) be reputed to be of us, but rather as a certain Brutal Addition, savouring of the Lion or the Bear, which is to be subdued, and made obsequious to the true Nature of Man. For we only are that thing, which is most eminent in us, and by which alone we excel other Creatures. So Andronicus Rhodius declares, 
L. 10. c. 9  Every Man to be that, which is best and principal in him; and that he who lived according thereunto, is rightly said, to live unto himself, and to enjoy m●st his own Life and Being. But he noted a little before, how absurd a thing it would appear, for any one to reject his own Life, to choose that of another. This he calls A wild and horrid Choice; and thinks them guilty of it who prefer Concupiscence unto Virtue: since they exchange thereby the human state, for that which is low and irrational.  
iv BESIDES, if every Man be a Debtor to himself, and to his Concerns; and is bound, 〈◊〉 Foresight, to put off and disappoint all ●…at Misfortunes: Surely we oughtto cultivate and embrace that Virtue, without whose ●id we can neither avoid the Calamities of this Life, or the Pains of a Future. That Hell, I mean, which is threatened not only by true Religion, but by the very Philosophy of Plato, and of others.  
V last, Although we should not seem tied by Duty, to choose that which was best for ourselves (because no Injury, as they say, can be done to a Willing Man) Yet seeing we are not born by Chance, but made and created by God above, doubtless we are his own by Right of Creation. And, he having an ●nlimited Jurisdiction over us, we are bound in do all those Things, which by his Divine Laws, he has required of us.  
AND surely his Divine Law is no other, than ●…erna●…d Immutable Reason; which being Right is evermore one and the same, even as the Figure of a Triangle or Circle, that changeth never. This is what the Almighty has put into us: And, in the Words of Hierocles, 'tis to preside over the Soul, as it were a Domestic God. 'Tis the Judge and Oracle we are to consult in all our Actions. For as nothing is dictated from thence, but the ●…ere Transcripts of the Divine Will: So the Top of all is this, that we shake off whatever is vicious, and apply ourselves wholly to that which is Virtuous and Good.  
VI 'TIS to the like Effect, what the same Hierocles does (in his Comment on the Golden Verses of Pythagoras) declare: Namely, That God, being not only the Legislator who makes the Law, but the Judge also whose part it is to Expound and have it Executed; does not only enact what is Good, but knows how to eradicate all that is Evil. That the whole Scope of the Law refers to that which is congruous unto God, and profitable to Man: And that this was to be effected not only by Weeding and R●oting out of all Vice, but by putting the Soul under such a Discipline of Justice, as might purge her from contracted Evils, and restore her to the Use and Exercise of Right Reason. Wherefore since this Eternal Law of Right Reason has regard to a Judge and Legislator without us, one so Powerful, and to whom by the Right of Creation also we are subjected; I affirm that it is not allowed unto us, to be Miserable; But we stand obliged by Law Inviolable, to aspire unto Virtue, and to true Felicity.  
VII. BUT that it lies not only on our Part to aspire unto Virtue, but is plainly in our Power to attain it, has been before made out: Namely, because we are endowed with a Free Will, and are told by Natural Conscience, That in what we have done amiss, it was in our Power to have done otherwise. 'Tis manifest, we have it in our Power wonderfully to corroborate and extend this Faculty; and that either if we abstain from Indifferent things, when they seem greatly to delight us; or else submit unto others, merely because harsh and unpleasing; that so, by degrees, we may conquer all our Aversions to them.  
For it seems plainly in our Power, either to move, or to restrain, this External Engine: Although perhaps in those Interior Motions, which old Philosophers call the first Eruptions of Nature, our Authority is not so Absolute. but however it be, that Variety of Desires, as well as of Aversions, creep easily upon us; Yet 'tis, in a manner, at our own Discretion, either to turn away from such Objects as are Tempting, or to converse with those that are less Grateful to us.  
Did we but, in Things Indifferent, pursue this Course so far as Health and Good Manners would allow; 'Tis strange how soon we should find the increase of Power in our , and all things, as it were, in our liberty, and at Command. And did we not ●…er-easily humour our Cupidities and Aver●…ons, they would soon grow faint, and Reason have the Ascendant over them all.  
VIII. BUT there are yet other Arguments 〈◊〉 Evince, That it lies almost wholly in us, 〈◊〉 become Men of Probity and Virtue. For it is manifestly in our Power to be Sincere; ●…ce here I mean nothing else, by Sincerity, ●…an a constant purpose of doing all that is 〈◊〉 our Power to the obtaining of true Virtue. 〈◊〉 that we should not be able, to do whatever is in our Power to do, is not less than a Contradiction: And therefore 'tis in our Power to be Sincere.  
IX. NOW let every Plain and Sincere Man (for his Comfort) know, That he is fortified, and girt about with a special Degree of Providence; 
L. 3. c. 10. §. 16.  And that even God is at Hand to assist all his Endeavours, just as Hercules (in the Fable) put his Shoulder to the Wheel, to help the poor labouring Countryman with all the strength he had. For Nature is every where replenished with Divine Assistants, and Good Spirits; such, I mean, as seek out proper Objects, on whom to cast their Eyes of Favour. And being true Champions of undefiled Simplicity, they delight to be Ministerial to Souls that are Sincere. They do by Good Offices disentangle such Men from the Snares of this World; and lift them from the Impurities of Life, to a state of Safety that is unblemished. But for Men of Wavering and inconstant Minds, those they reject; And pass them over, just as Artificers do in Work, those Materials, which are either untractable or unsound. The saying of Hierecles is not only true in respect of Substances, but also of Qualities: Namely; That the Law of Providence was as Extensive as all the Being's of the Universe. But if it be to be taken, in general, of all other Men, what he spoke but a little before: Namely, That Justice and Order had, for the Administration of our Affairs, appointed, That the Immortal Gods, wh● nolk before us, should Meditate of our Condition, ●…d not only cause a Diminution of our Sins, haet think how to recall us again unto themselves. Also that they regarded us, as Relations that ●ere lapsed, and were even solicitous for our restoration. How much the more assured then may we be, that God, and his Holy Angels, will assist the Sincere and Faithful Souls! ●hasmuch as there is no Bulwark founded ●…on Vice, that can resist his Power, without being soon overthrown, or shattered into Dust.  
X. ADD hereunto, That God himself ●ouchsafes, by some Inward Motions, to communicate and deal benignly with us. 
Lib. 3. Cap. 10. §. 16.  For as soon as we advance to the Knowing what appertains to Virtue, and become Masters of the Divine Sense, there is a certain Power above all that is Human, that associates with us and gets into us. But as, when Men yield themselves to Animal-Complacencies, and are dipped in the Impurities of Nature; 
L. 1. c. 6. §. 8.  they afterwards run headlong to every pernicious thing, and seem satally tied down by some Chains that are Invisible, so as when Remorse prompts them to return, they cannot arise: So, on the other side, those who, with Sincere Affections, do even pant and thirst after Virtue, They on the sudden are caught up by that Intellectual Spirit, which replenishes every Thing; 
Marcus Antoninus.  They are animated and supported by it, and finally therewith joined in the strictest aslociation of Love. So that, to conclude in the Words of Plato, They are as Men rapt up, and inspired by some Divinity; and they are easily and spontaneously led on to every Good Work.  
XI. THIS also is the Sense of what we quoted before, out of Antonine: Namely, That we stood bound, not only to conspire with the very Air that surrounds us, but to concur with that Intellectual Power, which comprehends All. 
L. 8. §. 54.  For (says he) this Intellectual Power, was no less dispersed, and even extended to every Man, who was prepared to Imbibe it, than was the open AIr to him, who had Lungs, and a Desire to Breath it. 'Tis plain, we want nothing for attracting this Power unto us, but that Sincere Love, by which we are taught the true Relish of Virtuous Things. For 'tis thus alone we can grow upwards, and have Conjunction with God himself; Since Virtue, being the Divinest of all Things, has most Power to assimilate us unto Him. Thus Hierocles pronounces (in his said Commentary on the Verses of Pythagoras;) That if an Inspired Sense be but sufficiently fixed and established, it gives us a Conjunction with God: For it was necessary that a Like Thing should be carried unto its Like.  
I would therefore now ask, Whether any thing, in the Duties of Virtue, can be too hard for us, if we are but United to so Great and Potent an Ally? Or how can we doubt of God, and his Holy Providence, while his Grace, his Life, his Energy, are felt sensibly in us? For it is God's Life, rather than our ●…n; if by putting off ourselves, (that is, 〈◊〉 Animal Affections) we contend and ●…nt after that alone, which is eminently Good: and which only belongs to God, who equally consults the Benefit of the whole Universe. Wherefore we are not to distrust, 〈◊〉 that, being assisted by so strong a Principie, and so prevailing a Guide, we may in the End attain unto the Perfection of Virtue.  
XII. WE must not, in the last place, here omit, That there are some Methods for the more easy accomplishing of this Work: Such as, Seriusly and frequently to Meditate of our Dissolution; the certain End of this Frail Body; And also of the Immortality of our Souls. For 'tis impossible that this should not, in a large Measure, extinguish all those Desires and Appetites, which centre in the Body; If we but think how soon the Visible Man, and this Corporeal Shape we carry about us, must ●umble and be shattered into Atoms; how all the present Furniture of this Fabric, such as Wealth and Honour, and all the Luxuries they attract, must ever and for ever be snatched away and rifled from it. Who then would not, in due time, consider how to place a very moderate and indifferent Value on such perishable Things, and strive to wean himself, by degrees, from the Dominion and Insolence of this Flesh! This is the only Way to bring the Soul to those Operations that are Pure, and to those Pleasures that are Divine; having no Reference or Dependence at all on Carnal Things. And this indeed was the Top of all Plato's Philosophy, which made him therefore style it, The Meditation of Death.  
XIII. 
Hist. Nat. l. 7. c. 50.  'TIS true, Pliny perversely enough intimates, as if this were, To Die by Wisdom: But that, which is the most perfect Wisdom, must not be called a Disease. For who is the Wiser Man? He that forecasts what may hereafter happen; Or he that, by plunging into Luxury and the Train of Evils attend it, shall first submit, and then be Oppressed? Let Virtue therefore be that Mark, which is evermore in our Sight: Since she alone is Immortal, even as the Soul; nor indeed has the Soul any other proper Ornament or Perfection, but Virtue. Nay, such is the Affinity between her and the Soul's Immortality; that, for the most part, there is a kind of Sense and Perception of Immortality engendered in us, as soon as the Soul grows vittuous.  
XIV. IN the Second Place, let us consider, How consummate and even ineffable that Pleasure is, that fills and possesses the Soul in Virtue. For seeing the Distemper and Lapse of the Soul, is from a state of Virtue into that of Vice; it cannot otherwise be, but that, when she is called back to her Primitive Condition, there must be Raptures of Joy, at such Restitution. For the Philosophers make Pleasure, in its very Definition to be, The Restitution to a Natural State.  
But surely, the most Natural State of that which partakes of Reason, must be Virtue: inasmuch as Virtue is nothing else, but a constant Aptitude and Propensity to the Dictates of Right Reason.  
To which we may add what is noted by Aristotle, 
Andronicus, l. 10. c. 9 Aristot. cap. 7.  That this Pleasure is ours by a sort of Propriety; and therefore it must be both Joyful and Excelling: For that which is most appropriate to the Nature of every Thing, is the truest and most Natural Delight. But unto Man there is nothing more proper than Right Reason: And therefore that Pleasure, which ariseth from a constant Dedication of the Mind thereto, must in many Considerations excel the rest.  
XV. IN the third Place, we may here superadd, That this Life of Virtue, and this Pleasure resulting from it, is the most Divine of all other Things. For a Soul, that is got thus far, has nothing farther to wish, unless out of Vanity, to aim at something which is more persect than even the Deity itself. But alas, that which is a Creature cannot be God: For all that he can have must be by Participation, and through the help of Virtue, which (as all confess) is a sort of Divine Nature and Godlike Life. For the Creature, as he is Animal, can only follow what is grateful to the Appetite: 'Tis, as he is the Image of God, that he prosecutes that which is simply and emimently the Best.  
Wherefore as to this Point, Hierocles, while he owns both Life and Pleasure arising from Virtue, to be perfectly Divine, does dexterously play the Philosopher in saying, 
In Aurea Pytagorae Carmina.  Since therefore Life, which conforms to Virtue, and so carries a Divine Similitude, must needs be Divine; and that which abides in Vice, must needs be Brutish and Atheistical: 'Tis manifest, that the Pleasures of a Good Man are Imitations of Divine Joy, because his Mind is Associating with God; Whereas that which is styled the Pleasure of a Wicked Wretch, is only a Commotion that is altogether stupid and Brutal.  
And hereto also refers, what the same Philosopher speaks of that Reason, which is the Rule of Virtue, saying, That to obey Right Reason, and to Obey God, is the same Thing: For a Rational Being, that sufficiently partakes of Natural Illumination, Wills and Covets the same Things, which the Divine Law ordains. And a Soul, that is framed according to God, falls into the same Determinations with God; and, by contemplating that Light and Majesty which is Divine, does the same things, which God in like Circumstances would do.  
XVII. MANY things of the same Force, occur in ancient Writers, and more especially in Antoninus and Cicero; which from what has been cited will easily be believed. We shall therefore add, out of the first Book of Tully de Legibus, only that short saying, Namely, That Virtue was in Man the same as in God. But if the Case stand thus, What can be a more Natural, or binding Conjugation between them, than this is? 'Tis also referable to the pleasure of Virtue and of the Divine Life, what the same Cicero says elsewhere, in advising a Man to consult his own Delphic Oracle, that is, 
Tusculan. Quaest. l. 5.  The Knowledge of Himself and of his own Soul: For thus the Mind, being made sensible how exempt it was from Vice, and how conjoined to the Divine Nature; it might be filled with Joys that were unspeakable.  
XVIII. THE truth is, there was little need, thus to heap up, and with the Authority of the Ancients thus to adorn, what, as we have so often affirmed, was by the very Nature and Definition of Virtue so sufficiently manifest. For to prosecute what is Simply the Best, and not what is most grateful to the Animal Nature, has still been inculcated to be something Divine, and manifestly elevated above the Animal State. Wherefore we must not ●arely confine ourselves to the Best Principle we find about us, but must live up to that, which our Nature, at its full improvement, is most capable of; and that which is truly and really Divine. And this is what ought to be esteemed the Supreme Pleasure, the Chief Good, and Ultimate End; In which our Soul, as in its highest Perfection and Felicity, ought only to Acquiesce.  
XIX. SUCH Reflections as these, can scarce ever fail to inflame our Minds in the Study of Virtue. And there are yet some farther things which may facilitate, and guide us in the same course. Among which the first Rule of Antoninus, is, That we never meddle with any thing rashly, or without due Confultation.  
XX. ANOTHER is of Epictetus, Never to act any Thing against our own Conscience; But that, as well in Small Matters as in Great, we preserve it sound and unshaken. And to this End let another Precept of the same Philosopher be still before us, 
Enchiridion, c. 75.  Quicquid videtur Optimum, id Lex esto tibi inviolabilis. Whatever appears unto you to be Best, let it be unto you as an Inviolable Law; For he that once learns (though even with the assent of Conscience) to reject a Greater Good, for the sake of a Less; 'tis odds, but in time he may learn, even for the same Reason, to throw off his small Residue of Good, and so plunge himself totally into Vice. For that part of Good, which he first refused, was equally as good as the Remainder, which he may also as easily part withal. Wherefore we must both early and diligently watch against all sorts of Depravity: For a present Sin makes way for a Future; and every Sin we commit makes a Link of that Iron-Chain, by which we are tied down to inextricable Sorrow, and to Darkness that will have no End.  
XXI. THE third Rule is, That whatever Work we set about, let it appear we do not forget Virtue in the doing of it. There is a double Manner of proceeding in every Business, not only a Right Way and a Wrong: but a Gentle and a Rough; a Violent Way and a Moderate. Wherefore 'tis of no small Moment, in the course of our Life to hit upon the Best; and that commonly is the Best, which savours most of Moderation, Grace and Decorum.  
XXII. FOURTHIY, That we do by Ardent Prayers contend, that God would pour into us a sufficiency of strength, for the Acquisition of Virtue. No Mortal aught to be ashamed to Beg, and to accept from Him so Divine a Gift, from whom he had also his Being. For we dare Affirm, that whoever pretends to Virtue, without Imploring it at God's Hand, will only catch the empty Shadow thereof. thereof. Cicero observed, 
De Naturâ Deorum, l. 2.  That no Man could be Great, but as Illuminated by some Ray, or Inspired by some Breath from Heaven. And if nothing be of a more Heavenly Nature than Virtue, 'tis then impossible to have it without the Help of God.  
XXIII. NOR must any Man wonder, that we annex Prayers unto Moral Philosophy; since we have already made Piety an Essential part thereof. Epictetus, Plato, Antoninus, and other Philosophers, have done the like. And here let us observe the words of Hierocles, who has in this Part exceeded the rest, 'Tis not enough (says he) with Promptitude and Vigour, to enterprise that which is Laudable, 
In Aurea Pythagorae Carmina.  as if the success were wholly in our Power, and without need of assistance from God. No, we must Implore the Divine Aid; and not only Implore it, but endeavour also to Obtain by our Industry, what we ask in our Prayer. For otherwise we make Virtue as it were a sharer in Atheism and Hypocrisy; or else render our own Prayers Ineffectual. The first of which by its Impiety would take away the very Essence of Virtue, and the latter by Stupidity would extinguish the Nature of Prayer.  
Let us hereunto add that saying out of Socrates mentioned by Xenophon, 
Xenophon de Administratione domesticâ.  That every Undertaking should begin with a Recommendation thereof to the Gods; and that of Cicero, That the Rise and Source of all our Actions be founded with the Immortal Gods. Likewise that of Plato in his Timaeus, 
De Legibus l. 2.  That whatever work we take in hand, be it great or be it small, never to begin without first Invoking of God. 
Arrian, Comment. l. 2. c. 18.  And lastly that excellent Saying of Epictetus, as to the Government and subduing of the Affections; He says, This is in truth a great Conflict, and a work merely Divine. Wherefore think upon God, and call upon his Holy Aid and Assistance; just as the poor Mariners do, in a sinking Condition, upon Castor and Pollux. For what greater Tempest can there be, than what ariseth from violent Imaginations, such as toss and distract Reason, and by which it is in danger of shipwreck? As this Sentence is of moment to the Point in hand; so it appears how many of the other Philosophers insisted upon fervent Prayer: For we do not only hereby acknowledge him, who is the Fountain of all Virtue; but we own, that 'tis God only, that can Bless, and Crown all our Endeavours for it with Success.  
XXIV. HOWEVER 'tis not here understood, that those are the most Efficacious Prayers which are the Longest, or the Loudest, or the most Eloquent; but rather those short and frequent Ejaculations, which the Soul, after long and convincing thoughtfulness, sends up to Heaven: Such, I mean, as are attended with sighs and a vehement Yerning after God and Virtue. For by such pious Anxiety, we exercise and rarify the Blood and Spirits; we pour into them new supplies of pure and hallowed Air; we corroborate and augment our inward Sentiments of Heaven, and send up our Prayers, as in a Chariot of Light or Fire. So that as, in these fervent and holy Pant, we do (in a sort) draw God into the Soul; we do, in like manner, breath back nothing but that which is Celestial and Divine.  
XXV. THE fifth and last Precept is that of Pythagoras, That we fail not every Night, before we take Rest, to sum up the Actions of the past Day. Thus if we have done any thing well, we may give God the thanks and glory of it: But, if otherwise, then to repent of the Misdoing, and by this means daily fix and settle in our minds a resolution of acting in every thing according to the most perfect Rule of Virtue. 
Mollia nec priùs obducat tua Lumina Somnns,  
Exacti quàm ter reputâsti Facta Diei:  
Quid lapsus feci? Quid recté? Quid boni omisi?   
The observing of this Rule would work a strange Reformation in our Manners; and kindle in us great Resolutions to Virtue.   

CHAP. IV. Things which contribute to the Attaining of the Primitive Virtues.  
I. WHat we have hitherto delivered, for acquiring Virtue in the general, is in Truth, if prosecuted, of that Effect, that it looks superfluous to descend unto Particulars. And yet we will touch these also, though in a very few words.  
As to the Three Primitive Virtues, this we admonish, if not repeat, That no sort of Virtue can either be acquired or practised, or even well thought on without them. Wherefore the entire possession of these Three First, is indispensible.  
II. PRUDENCE is the First of all; And how this is to be compassed, does by its Definition and Explication (in the Second Book) sufficiently appear. But as it reaches and presides, as far as things of Action or Contemplation can go; let us, in our way, refer to the first of these that saying of Antoninus, 
Lib. 2. Sect. 54.  That we Critically examine our present Imaginations, lest any thing creep in, that is not throughly weighed and understood. 
Lib. 3. Sect. 11.  This he again inculcates by another great Rule; namely, That whatever falls within our Imagination; we should still frame some Definition, and paint out the Lineaments thereof. That so we may behold it naked and entire, and what it is in its whole Essence, and in every Part. And this surely is the great Business of Prudence. For how else are Men carried away, or come to be disappointed, in what they should avoid or pursue; but for not looking round, and not taking into consideration both the Whole and the Parts? They catch things at first sight, and from some few parts, which Please or Displease, determine the Fate of all the rest. Thus they become very gross Accountants; For while they compute and rashly cast up what in bulk or value is but part of the Thing (as if it were the whole) they are not capable of Judging; and only discover that Precipitation is the Root of most Mistakes.  
It were good therefore, to observe the Advice that Epictetus gave him who was so very intent to conquer at the Olympic Games: Namely, That he should well revolve in his Mind, what things were Antecedent, and what Consequent to that Enterprise; and then stick close to the Work. And to this belongs what he adds in the following Chapter, O Man, first consider what the Work is, and then thy own Nature, if thou art able to support it. For if these be not adjusted, we shall quickly pass as vain Projectors, repenting that we ever set forth, and sharing in the Contempts and scorns of the Unfortunate.  
To this kind of Prudence we may refer that most Excellent Admonition of Epicharmus, Be thou sober, and remember to Distrust; For these Things are the very Nerves of Wisdom. And, as consonant hereunto, let us add this Advice of our own, Never much to believe either Fortune or Men: but to trust in God and Virtue which can never Change. For Men differ, in a few Days, even from themselves; and their Wills and Counsels are not to morrow the same.  
III. BUT as to the Second Branch, about things Contemplative; let the searcher of Wisdom take these few Rules.  
To suspend his Assent till the Thing be clearly and distinctly understood.  
That whatever Things may be, in their own Natures; yet to afford them in our Reasoning no other place, than as they are manifest to the Faculties of our Mind.  
That the inward and naked Essence of a Thing cannot be known, but only its Essential Attributes, or its Essential Properties.  
That Essential Attributes must immediately be in, and belong to the Subject: Nor ought any Physical Reason be asked, or can be given, why they are in it.  
That the Idea of every Thing, does consist of certain Essential Attributes.  
That to the perfect Knowledge of any Thing, such an Idea or Notion thereof is requisite; as is ●…t only clear and distinct, but full and adequae: so as to comprehend all those inseparable ●ttributes, which appertain unto it. For 'tis possible, either by Industry or by Neglect, so ●o think of a Subject, as not to think of any of those Attributes, which in truth are inseparable from it: And this, I fancy, Des Cartes as done, in his Notion of the Human Soul; while the Defines it only by Cogitation.  
Lastly, To distrust him, whose Mind is ●ot yet refined; To credit no Masters, or any faculty whatever, except Reason, solid Ex●erience, and the Intellect (which is the Warrobe of Common Notions.)  
iv As to the Second of these Great Ver●es, which is Sincerity; you may, as to Men, ●eigh it in this Balance. To observe if you ●eat them in the same manner, as you would ●e willingly treated by them: And mind still ●hat is said by Cicero, 
De Legibus, l. 1.  That there is no one Thing so like or so Equal to another, as are all 〈◊〉 us to one another. Whence 'tis manifest, that, ●hile Circumstances are the same, we are ●…tually obliged in the same manner to treat ●ach other.  
But as to God and Virtue, your Sincerity will appear, if you so debase yourself, and all you have, in respect of them; that you even desire to give up Liberty, Fortune, and Life itself for their sakes. Now, if you feel within you a Resolution of this Force, you may then conclude you are come to the perfection of Patience. But for poor wretched Creatures as we are; should we, on the other hand, prefer and esteem of ourselves above God and Virtue; It were so lewd and so abhorrent a Crime, that this thought alone (if we could but think it) were enough to constrain us to be Sincere.  
V. NOR is the Argument for Patience of less weight. Since the Just, who die for the Cause of God and of Virtue, are not only Crowned with Immortality, but their Soul● adorned with Glory; which is a double Reward. And it will contribute not a little to this Virtue; if here we take in, what before was advised for augmenting the power of Free Will; namely, That we set ourselves vigour rously to abstain from all those things, which to the Corporeal and to the Animal Life an● most grateful: Also that, as far as Health an● good Manners will permit, we enure o●… selves resolutely to harsh and unpleasing thing For if we but firmly maintain these Characters, we shall soon find enlargement in o● Inward Faculties: We shall excite within 〈◊〉 not only joy, but a new greatness of Sou● and feel ourselves in a state to enterprise 〈◊〉 very thing that is Honourable. We shall not account we have lost, but only changed our Delights: seeing the Soul, by a sense of Adhering unto and Reverencing the Precepts of Virtue, shall attain a Joy not Corporeal, but distinct and peculiar to itself, and be even ravished with the Fruition thereof.   

CHAP. V How the Three Principal Derivative Virtues may be acquired.  
I. AS for Justice, Fortitude, and Temperance: We say first, that the principal part of Justice, which is true Piety, will in the Minds of Candid Men soon take root, if they but take the Image of Impiety; and see how Rude, how Barbarous, and how void of all good Nurture it is. For does any Man among us neglect a Benefactor to his Face? Do we not rather load him with Honours, and make our Acknowledgements as profound, and as answerable to his Bounties, as we can? How then shall we put that upon God, which even among Men is not permitted without Shame? This alone, unto a generous Mind is motive enough, and a sufficient Spur unto Piety. But for others, let them take warning, lest by Ingratitude they forfeit all Title to Favour: Let them, in time, consider that Divine Vengeance will be as diligent to find them out, as they are now drowsy and regardless towards their Creator. Yet as to the manner of Worship, let this be a Rule to all, that we so adhere to God's outward and public Service; as not to omit our inward and private Devotions, which are certainly the dearest Part.  
We have already observed, 
L. 2. c. 2. 5.  That the internal Worship is a true Imitation of God. And this Opinion is not a little enforced by what the Pythagorean in Hierocles, says, That we then worship God in the best manner, when we bring our Minds to a Resemblance of him; Since what a Man loves he endeavours to Imitate. And a little after, That costly Oblations bring no Honour to God, if they are not offered with a Godly Mind. That the Sacrifices of the Wicked are but as Stubble to the Fire, and their Holy Donatives serve only but for Booty to the sacrilegious. And as for a Temple, he adds this short Description thereof, That there is not on Earth a fit place for God, than is a purified Soul. And to this Sense, he brings Apollo himself, pronouncing the Similitude between Heaven and a Holy Mind. 
Aequè Animis sanctis, atque ipso Ego laetor Olympo.  
I do not greater pleasure find  
In Heaven, than in a holy Mind.   
III. BUT, having quoted thus much, let us not omit what the same Author more elegantly and at large, sets forth: to wit, That the wise Man is the only Priest; He only is acceptable to God, and He only knows how to pray unto him. For he only knows how to Worship God aright, who is arrived to Divine Knowledge; He, I say, that offers himself for a Sacrifice; that converts his Soul into a Divine Monument; and whose Mind is prepared as a Temple, for the reception of Heavenly Light. Here 'tis to be observed that the Man whom Hierocles calls Wise, Aristotle calls Prudent. But both are in reality the same, as being endowed with Virtue: For Virtue, which is true and raised up to Perfection, and which becomes thereby the Image of God, is certainly God's best Worship. Yet this Inward Gift never contends against those Rites and Forms in Religion, that are decent and established by Law.  
iv As to the other Branch of Justice, which is Probity; and commonly called by the Name of Justice, in a stricter Sense: This aught to be much in the care of all pious Men, as 'tis a Branch of that Piety, which is a principal part of Virtue; and which had been demonstrated (in our Second Book) to be the best way of God's Worship. 
Lib. 2. Cap. 5.  For Probity is the Bond of Society, and of all Human Concerns; and the whole World is in a manner so tied together and supported by it, that if this Pillar were shaken, the ruin of all must follow. Wherefore all Men are bound to defend it, and to regard it even as an hallowed Thing.  
V. BUT if any Man who for barely containing himself within the bounds of Human Law, shall thereupon pretend unto the Character of Just; we shall venture to call this rather Dexterity or Artifice, than true Justice. For such an one feels no Concern as to the Public Good; his thoughts are all about himself; and Justice (which consults the good of others) has no part in his Meditations; since they are bounded and limited by Self-love. So that if a Man of this frame should but live to see the Laws laid by, he would start immediately into another shape. He, who but yesterday was according to the letter of the Law, a very precise Elder, turns either Libertine, or as ravenous as an Evening Wolf. Wherefore let him, who desires to be truly Just, not believe that he is already so; unless he finds that, if there were no Laws, he could contain himself, and still be Master of the same Desires.  
VI As to Fortitude and Temperance, we may here repeat what before we offered concerning Patience. Hierocles calls them all, The Adamantine keepers of the Soul: 
In Aurea Pythagorae Carmina.  If you discharge them, she presently is betrayed to all Temptations and Calamity. But how necessary Fortitude is, will appear by that Excellent saying of Andronicus: 
Lib. 3. Cap. 1.  Namely, That some things are so Dishonest, as not to afford the Ill-doer the least shadow or pretence of Excuse. And therefore that a Man must vigorously withstand these things, and not only endure Terment on such account, but even immediate Death.  
Wherefore there is no Argument that more helps a Man to study Fortitude, and how to acquire it; than to consider how miserable we are without it; 'tis else in the power of every insolent Superior, either by Threats or by Oppression, to make the timorous Man as vile and as obsequious as he pleases. And what greater torment or servitude can there happen to an ingenuous Mind, than (with Gild and Confusion) to own, that, as soon as the terror of any great mischief looks towards him; he shall not only shrink from Truth and Virtue, but even contribute to betray them both.  
VII. As for Intemperance, the very Discredit of that Pleasure were enough to deter us from it. He that considers the Dignity of Man, and the great things he is born to, must be astonished to see, at how mean a rate he often sells them all! The poor Fly is not more easily taken in the Cobweb, or the Fish deluded by the Bait, or any other Beast fettered in a Toil, than is poor Man, whom lusts and passions have subdued. Every Libertine calls him away, and every impure Rascal leads him about; till at last he grows abject and more contemptible than a Beast. For Pleasure, which feeds and vitiates the Sense, does also by degrees prey upon the Mind: It puts out the Light, and breaks the force it had. Nay, when at last nothing but Fortitude is left him (that Sentinel, or Out-guard, without whose vigour and fidelity no virtue can be safe) even here Pleasure attacks him, and like a raging Strumpet that has had success, comes on with Impudence, and will not quit her Hold, till she drives us into utter destruction. So that what Cicero said, is no less true than common, 
De Senectute.  That, in the Region of Pleasure, it was impossible for Men to hold any Commerce with Virtue.  
VIII. NOR does Intemperance only benumb and bewitch the Mind; but the Body also is miserably shaken and obnoxious to many cruel Diseases by it: So that Abstinence, even on Health's account, deserves our highest Care. 'Tis not that here we should assign the Weights and Measures of Temperance, but only speak of what is relative to Health, and to the good state of the Body and the Mind; Since we know that in robust Bodies, which are overfed, the faculties of the Mind are very often encumbered, and oppressed.  
IX. 
L. 2. c. 2. §. 3.  WHEREFORE Temperance is so to be cultivated, as more to intent the plenty and purity of the Animal Spirits, than the extension of the Body. Thus that Oracle of Zoroaster advised, Let not the Spirit be defiled, nor the superficies be made gross. Which refers to that of Hierocles, 
In Aurea Pytagorae Carmina.  who calls this Spirit, by the name of a Thin-Vehicle, and a Body Immaterial. Adding also this, That we take a vigilant Care of our Organ, and skilfully fit it to Philosophical purposes.  
X. THIS then is true and Philosophical Temperance, if we so far subdue the bulk and powers of the Body, as that they may not be able to stifle or extenuate the Sense of excellent Things. And above all, That the Internal Spirit be not pampered and incrassated, which is what Hierocles calls the Spiritual Vehicle. His Opinion being, That our Internal Man is composed, and made up, as well of this, Vehicle as of the Soul. Wherefore the Pythagoreans made great work about the purifying of the Spirit, or Vehicle, as by the following words of Hierocles appears: 
In Aurea Pythagorae Carmina.  We must (says he) by the exercise of Virtue, and the recovery of Truth and Purity, take care of those things, which appertain to the Luciform Body; which is, what the Oracles declare to be the Tender or Aerial Vehicle of the Soul. But the care of this Purification must extend even to Meats and Drinks, and whatever else concerns these our Mortal Bodies. For the Luciform Spirit resides therein; it was that which gave Life to this, when it was inanimate, and is the Conservator of its present Frame. This indeed is that Immaterial Body, which is Life itself, and which gives and ingenerates material Life; 'Tis by this that our Mortal Bodies, which consist of Life Irrational and Body Material, are made up: And thus an Image is composed of the Internal Man, who is built out of Rational Substance, and Body Immaterial.  
XI. IN all which High Words, he intimates, that in our care concerning the External Man, which is our Corporeal Frame or Bulk, we must be sure to bring no Detriment or Contagion to the Internal: But that the regulation and measures of our Diet as to meat and drink, and what else concerns this Mortal Body, must refer to the health or safety of the Inward Man. The End being, that this Thin and Lucid covering of the Soul, which must surely be some Aerial or Ethereal Vestment, be kept free from all servile Commixtures with our polluted Carcase. And hereto the same Hierocles adds, That forasmuch as to this our Luciform Body, there is another Mortal Body congenerate and affixed; We are to preserve the former in all Purity, and to discharge it (as much as is possible) from all Intercommoning or Combinations with the Latter.  
XII. THE truth is, that all this Doctrine about Cleansing and Purgation even of the Soul itself (and so the whole Business and Import of Virtue) points but at this, that there be Cleanliness in the Inward Man, and that the vigour of it be sustained. For so the same great Interpreter of the Pythagorean Wisdom does a while after explain the Matter, saying, That the purification of the rational Soul, was done with concern, and had reference to the Luciform Vehicle; Meaning that the Vehicle was thereby to be rendered more Lightsome and Elastic, so as it might not afterwards retard the superior flight of the Soul. That the said Purification was best effected, by divorcing our Thoughts and Meditations from Terrene Objects, and lifting them by degrees unto things Immaterial. That all Turpitude was to be suppressed; and that we should prohibit all sordid Intercourse of the Body Material, for fear the Luciform Body should be Tarnished and contaminated by it. That if there were a Vigilance in these Particulars, then might this Spiritual Vehicle acquire new Life and Vigour; it might be endowed with Celestial Vivacity; and at length enter into a Conjugation with the Intellectual Perfections of the Soul.  
All this can Purification do, when but steered and conducted by Virtue; It can Recollect, Resuscitate, and even inspire with heavenly Energy, that subtle and attenuated Chariot of our Mind; that inward Organ, which will afterwards remain its Habitacle, and a Consort inseparable to all Eternity.  
XIII. I confess, these things sound as lofty Flights, and yet they are the Documents of the famous Hierocles; by which we are taught, that the greatest pitch of Philosophical Temperance, is, To preserve this Vehicle in a congruous temper to the purity of the Soul; that the Inward Man be not defiled by the Sense of Gross Contentments; Not impotently hurried on to concur with Flesh and Blood; nor anxious for Joys that have no manner of Foundation. We are rather admonished by such Temperance, how this Luciform Vehicle, this inhabitable Lightning, which is also a Body distinct; may be preserved Free, Vigorous, and Immaculate.  
XIV. THIS is the very Doctrine, which the same Author mentions from that Golden Verse of Pythagoras, 
— Tum singula pensa  
Aurigam mentem statuens ex parte supernâ.  Which he thus explains, That Pythagoras speaks here first of the Mind as being a Rational Power; Next he calls it the Driver of the Chariot, as it directs and governs, not only the Corporeal Body but the Luciform. That this Driver which is indeed the Soul, does not only with a sharp Eye look out, to distinguish the way, and keep within the paths of Virtue: but it holds the Reins with steddiness, both to embrace and to restrain her dear and Luciform Companion; and all, with Intention to direct its Prospect wholly towards Heaven, and to make it thereby grow into a Similitude of the Deity. This is an apt and close Allusion to the most perfect and Philosophical Temperance or Continence, which allows not that any Corporeal Pleasures should pierce into the Inward Man. For it represents the Soul, as holding a strict Rein against all Commerce that might obstruct the Diviner Joys which arise from a Sense of God and Virtue. And this doubtless is the perfect Scope, the truest Measure, and the highest Improvement of Temperance.  
XV. BUT how far distant from this Perfection such Men are, who wallow in Gluttony, Drunkenness, and the impurities of Lust; let them consider, and compare their Cases, who are accountable herein? Let this ●e their sad Memento, that while it was in their power to resemble the Gods, they rather those basely to degenerate into Beasts. How much Happier had they been under any Severity of Life (even that ancient Discipline, that afforded Nature but a bare Rescue or Support) than by delicious Hours, in Chambering and Luxury to blunt the Sense of all Sublimer Things! How will they Mourn at last, that, by the treachery of Vice, they have andermined the very Platform of their Souls, and betrayed that faithful Out-guard, I mean, Fertitude! Which, in all Events, should have been the bold Champion and Conservator of all their Virtues.  
Let thus much serve in Brief, as to the acquisition of the Primitive Virtues; and those also which are the Principal of the Derivative.   

CHAP. VI Of Acquiring the Reductive Virtues; And first of those, which refer to Justice.  
I. AMong the Virtues called Reductive; those more especially shine out, which have reference to Justice: As 

Liberality,  
Magnificence,  
Veracity,  
Gratitude,  
Candour,  
Urbanity,  
Fidelity,  
Modesty,  
Humanity,  
Hospitality,  
Friendship,  
Civility,  
Affability,  
Officiousness.    
Liberality is not to be neglected: Since, on the one Hand, we show thereby, that our Souls are not contracted to the bare admiration of Wealth; Nor our Minds, on the other hand, so stupid, as not to understand the true Use and Ends thereof.  
Magnificence is praised by its own works; since these bring Benefit to the Public, Ornament to the World, and Variety to the Histories of the Time.  
II. VERACITY must be our constant Inmate and Companion: For 'tis the worst of Characters to be a noted Lyar. There is no Quicksand, or infected Air, more frightful to the Traveller, nor any Vizard more dangerous to be met withal, than an accomplished Lyar. He will lead you, like a Ghost, into dangerous Paths; and, when you are wand'ring quite out of your Way, he will be sure to leave you in the Dark.  
However, 'tis strange to see how the Masters in this Talon, will yet set up for Men of Prudence. They are indeed wise enough to know that every Vice must bear a virtuous Name; and that Fraud and Cunning, will never stand alone. 'Tis as with Strumpets, who affect to be seen at Church among the Matrons: but as they are the more abhorred herein for their Impudence, as well as Vice; so ought it be with these plausible Circumventors. There is even a Sect of these, who also set up for Wits; they think there can be no greater Excellency than in the way called Bantering: Surely the Man must be very dull, that cannot Deceive, if he but resolve to Lye. Yet as he that will deceive when he can, shows a Mind that is vile and abject: So the truly prudent and generous Man, is he that will be Honest in the dark: He that will be as just, when 'tis in his power to be otherwise, as if it were not. But whoever notes the Events of things shall see, that Knaves and Hypocrites are exposed to shame, and end their Lives obscurely; whereas the just and virtuous sort endure, and their Reputation still shines forth as at the Noonday. Every counterfeit thing must be short-lived.  
Fidelity is much to be cultivated; and how could Human Society consist without it: since to keep Promises, and to restore what is deposited with us, are the Top-branches and conspicuous parts of Justice.  
Hence also we may be convinced how much it imports us to consider well of Gratitude. For every good turn done us is, as it were a Pledge deposited in our trust and keeping: And surely he that repays it not back, as soon as he can, is guilty of Infidelity. Nay, Gratitude is so remarkable a part of Justice, that whoever has the heart to violate this Bond, is thought capable (might he do it with Impunity) of trampling on all the Laws of the World. Now who would incur this Character, or draw himself under so dismal a Gild? There is certainly no Monster that a Man should more abhor, than this Monster of Ingratitude.  
III. As to the show and expression of Candour in our Converse with Men, there are great Motives for it. First, Because the Errors of most Men are Errors of Ignorance: and yet, even among these Errors, their Minds often labour to bring forth Truth and good Works; a Birth which indeed we ought kindly to assist, by interpreting favourably all their Actions, and affording them the very best appearances we can. For we do, by this soft Temper, help on Peace, and the cementing of Men's Minds towards a bond of Unity: which is so worthy a part, that all Men ought to endeavour it.  
iv FOR Urbanity, we must not be so Morose, as not to hear and bear the Jests of others (and sometimes tart ones too) although we are not good at Jesting ourselves. In truth, he that is dexterous in Raillery, has found a Remedy to laugh away his Labour, and a very good Sauce against the fatigues of Life. For though it was not Nature's Intention, to fit us only for Sport and Pastime; Yet these, doubtless, are lawful in their seasons, just as sleep, and other Refreshments, to the Body and the Mind: provided always that things of Moment are not obstructed by them. 'Tis to this sense that Cicero speaks in his Offices, That the ways of Jesting are very different: the one, Sawey, Rustic, Impious, and Obscene; the other, Elegant, Candid, Ingenuous, and Pleasant. And surely, 'tis this last which is recommended to us. However, if something herein should drop, so quick and pleasing to the Company as to cause Laughter for the smart which it reflects; he that feels it (being a good Man) will not so much vex to see, that small defects are insulted over, as have cause to rejoice, that his greater Virtues are at the same time applauded: For he hears the worst that can be said of him, since Adversaries are still known to shoot their longest and sharpest Arrows. And here we refer to what (in our First Book) was said of the Interpretation of Passions; which may farther illustrate this Point. 
L. 1. c. 11. § 2. 3.  But if some rude and ill-natured Man shall perhaps bear-over-hard upon us, and both jest and sting together; We must then do what we can, to cure the subject matter, and draw out that Core, in which his Darts are fixed.  
V MODESTY must attend all our Actions; 'tis the Flower, 
L. 2. c. 8. §. 11.  the Beauty of Jesutice, and even its chief Perfection: This we have already set forth, and it needs not be repeated.  
But Humanity does challenge a most principal regard among all the other Virtues. We are all, as it were, linked in one common chain of Equality; nor is one man to think himself so very preferable to another; when, in things of Passion and of Reason, in Death and Immortality, we seem all to share alike. He therefore that contemns another, and forgets that way of Treatment, which Candour and Humanity demands, he seems to give Sentence against himself. For 'twill be as lawful at another time, and when Circumstances are alike, to refuse to him those common Perquisites of Human Nature; seeing in his turn he refused them to others. So that whoever arrogates to himself a great Pre-eminence above his Fellow-Creatures, does but expose his Vanity, and takes pains to be Ridiculous. Let no man, of how mean a Condition soever, if he be a good Man, and has not by his Follies lost all Title to the Rights of Human Nature, be treated with Contumely. 'Tis the saying of Heraclitus, Enter, gentlemans, even here the Gods inhabit: Which may truly be said of the poorest Man living, so that his Heart be but sound and Just. For (besides that Prerogative, which is common to Mankind) such an one should be regarded with Love and Tenderness, and as it were some Creature that were even Holy and Divine.  
VI FOR Hospitality, it will stand less in need of Recommendation, as 'tis a manifest part of Humanity. It seems to be most needful there, where Strangers are liable to be ill used by the Natives, and where they want the things of Accommodation they were used to find at Home. These therefore we should strive to Help and Succour, in all they can need at our Hands: Not forgetting that even Holy Angels are thus employed, whom we ought to imitate. For they, during this Earthly pilgrimage of our Souls; do seasonably step in, both to relieve and secure us, when we are most distressed.  
VII. FOR what concerns Friendship and Friends, these are carefully to be Acquired; and not barely as Ornaments, but as Bulwarks in Human Life. If you light on such as deserve your fervent Love; place it rather on their Virtues, than their Persons, which are both mutable and mortal. Let not your Friendship consist, in soft and unprofitable strains; nor in vehemency of Passion, which would bring many a storm and disorder to your Mind. But let the Character of it be Sincere and Constant, and such as fulfils all the Duties appertaining thereto, with a cheerful and officious Benignity.  
VIII. LASTLY, As to Civility, Affability, and Officiousness; these are all to be regarded, not only as Credentials, which procure us Fame and good Will: but they very often become the very Essential Knots of that Peace and Friendship which we enjoy. Therefore let no Man neglect, and much less despise these smaller Virtues; which often, as smaller Wires, sustain much weight. We do by them live more pleasantly among our Neighbours; our security becomes the greater and our Favour and Credit with Men is thereby increased. And who would not wear such things about him, as make him welcome wherever he comes, and cost him nothing the Carriage?   

CHAP. VII. Of Acquiring those Virtues, which are referable to Fortitude.  
I. THESE are the Virtues, which appertain to Fortitude: 

Magnanimity,  
Generosity,  
Lenity,  
Constancy,  
Diligence,  
Vivacity,  
Presence of Mind,  
Stoutness,  
Virility or Manhood.    
'TIS the praise of Magnanimity, that is does not disquiet the Mind with minute or numerous Cares; but rather lifts it up to the Ambition of doing great and excellent things, whereof the number can be but small. They that know the Dignity of Humane Nature, and what it is capable of, think it loss and derogation to be engaged in Trifles. So that as nothing is higher or greater than God and Virtue, 'tis in the Veneration of these Objects, our Minds and Wills are by this Virtue confirmed and underproped; And by it we are also reclaimed, from wand'ring into things which are but mean and vulgar.  
Moreover, what we did before attribute unto Magnificence, is equally applicable to this Virtue: Namely, that the great Acts and Achievements hereof, redound to the service of the Public; and adorn both the World and the Chronicles of the Age.  
II. THE benefit and prefection of Generosity, appears in this, that a Man is not governed herein by popular Applause, or the Itch of common Glory; but acting sincerely and with Conscience, towards Virtue and true Beatitude, his Mind is satisfied and corroborated in his Work. Nay, although the Malice and Clamour of all Mankind were broke lose against him, yet he will stand firm to Virtue, and maintain Truth with an unshaken Courage.  
'Tis very true that often, in the pursuit of Virtue; as well the desire of Fame and Glory, as the fear of Shame and Reproach, have their benefit and Effects. But when Virtue is once attained, and that we are in the actual possession thereof, than those things are but as mere Scaffolding, to be removed or burnt.  
III. THIS Virtue is therefore of the more high Account, as it is the true Guardian and Sentinel upon all the rest. It should especially be cultivated by young Men, whom either Nature, or an honest Ambition, has excited to excel their Fellows. For the blundering Men, and the Vicious, make a strong Party in the World, and they conspire how to scoff the Industrious out of Countenance. And it comes to pass that many a Good-natured Man is by shame run down, and laughed into a compliance with those things, which yet he does inwardly detest. But let such honest Candidates remember, that if this Trick could have prevailed on all that went before them, never had any Man been Eminent, or attained to Glory: That as it is stout both to bear, and even scorn at, Reproach for Virtue's sake; so it is mean and cowardly, to humour those, who either craftily tempt, or haughtily expect, that you make up part of their Train in their unlawful ways. There want not, in the World, Companions and Associates of a better stamp, though not so numerous, or so easily met with in the Streets: but they are worth the searching for. And as to the other sort of Men, who are so Impudent, as to become mere Advocates for things that are Vile: Remember, in short, the better advice of Pythagoras, 
— Summè reverere Teipsum.   
iv LENITY, or a Calmness of Mind, is even in this Regard extremely valuable, that it is a sort of Buckler against the Scoffs and Injuries of all Men. This was noted by Marcus Antoninus, in that Famous Saying, 
Lib. 1. §. 18.  That Lenity was an Invincible Thing, provided it were , and not Counterfeit, as some grave Scorners make it. No Shield is so availing to the Mind's Tranquillity, as is this Calmness, and true Lenity: Nor does any thing require it, or support it more, than to reflect that few Men ever offend us either in word or deed, but it arises from their Ignorance. Wherefore the Stoics, and followers of Socrates, were wont of such men to say, Sic ille opinatur; such is his Opinion. And omnis improbus ignorat, A wicked man knows not what he does.  
V CONSTANCY we must have; for else we shall seem to act at hazard; and to have neither Reason nor Virtue for our Guide. 
— Semper, qui bonus est, bonus est.  
He who is truly Good, is always Good.   
But he that is now Good, and then Bad, is not governed by steady Principles, but the last Impression governs him.  
VI LASTLY, Diligence is a certain cheerful Servant or Solicitor, that attends upon all the other Virtues, and must therefore be caressed. We may call it even the Master and Moderator of all our External Actions; Inasmuch as it knows how to excite our Bodies, and all the parts thereof, to such Activity, as the duty and business of our Life requires.  
VII. THE Residue of those Virtues, which refer to Fortitude, have so close an Affinity with these, which we here explain, that it were needless to set them off with any new Testimonial. For they are as the very Offspring of Diligence, Constancy, or Magnanimity.   

CHAP. VIII. Of Acquiring those Virtues, which refer to Temperance; And about exciting the Divine Love.  
I. THERE are Referable unto Temperance, Frugality, Humility, Austerity, Modesty. Andronicus also adds Slender and uncompounded Diet, Umblameable Gesture; and, A Contented Mind.  
Of which that about Slender-Diet and Contentment, are as it were the Sorts and Methods of Frugality: even as that of Gesture is of Modesty.  
II. FRUGALITY has this Commendation, that 'tis the Parent, or at least the Companion of Sobriety; As also a Cure against Diseases and Poverty. 'Tis attended by Consideration and Prudence; lest that, spending profusely and living beyond our Stocks, we be disabled not only from entertaining our Friends in a frugal way, but driven to live wholly upon them: which of all Conditions were the most miserable. So that, in Contemplation hereof, we may affirm, that true Frugality has an Eye unto Generosity itself; and that there is an Honest Greatness of the Soul, concerned in the true Conduct of this Virtue.  
III. THE same Reflection is fortified by what Andronicus says of those bordering Virtues that refer to this. For he, who can content himself with easy Food, and has no desires of Sauce or Cookery, is much out of Fortune's reach, and does not easily fall within the Injuries of Men. This Virtue sets him as in a Tower above others, and he is seldom captivated by any: For as it is God alone, that needeth nothing; so he that is contented with fewest things, approaches nearest unto him.  
iv IN the next place, Austerity or Gravity, together with Modesty and the Virtues allied thereto, are to be had in much Regard: For they do not only adorn our Life and External Behaviour, but really preserve the Mind both chaste and unblemished. The first glimmerings of Vice, and that very shadow that gins to play in the Imagination, is by those Virtues not only reprehended, but immediately smothered and suppressed.  
V YET is there no sort of Virtue more to be pursued than Humility: Since there are no two Plagues so destructive in Human Affairs, as are those of Ambition and Avarice. Hence arise Treachery to Friends and Country, the Massacre of Princes, Desertion of Truth and Religion, Frauds (not to be named) both against God and Virtue; In short, All, that can spawn from Injustice, hath its Original from this Source. Wherefore it may well be doubted, Whether the fear of torment on a Rack, or of Death itself, have so much power to drive Men into Impiety, as that inordinate Thirst, which some discover in the pursuit of Riches, Honour, and Domination? Consequently, whether even Fortitude itself be so strong a Bulwark as Humility proves? By which we retreat, as into a Harbour, where the noise and storms of the World fly over us; and where we are neither tempted, nor distracted with the dazzling vanities thereof.  
VI THE word Humility sounds low, and may seem despicable among the Virtues: Yet is it so conspicuous a branch of true and substantial Wisdom, that even Lucretius (who did not much trouble himself in such matters) was not barely acquainted with it, but has very Elegantly painted it out, in the Verses following: 
De rerum naturâ, lib. 2.  
Sed nil dulcius est, bene quàm munita tenere  
Edita doctrinâ sapientûm templa serena;  
Despicere unde queas alios, passimque videre  
Errare atque viam palantes quaerere vitae,  
Certare ingenio, contendere nobilitate,  
Noctes atque dies niti praestante labour  
Ad summas emergere opes rerumque potiri.  
O miseras hominum mentes! O pectora caeca!  
Qualibus in tenebris vitae, quantisque periclis,  
Degitur hoc aevi quodcunque est! etc.  Which are thus Translated by Mr. Creech: 
But above all, 'tis pleasantest, to get  
The Top of high Philosophy, and sit  
On the Calm-peaceful-flourishing Head of it: below  
Whence we may view Deep, wondrous Deep,  
How poor-mistaken Mortals wand'ring go,  
Seeking the Path to Happiness: Some aim  
At Learning, Wit, Nobility, or Fame;  
Others with Cares and Dangers vex each Hour,  
To reach the top of Wealth, and Sovereign Power.  
Blind, wretched Man! in what dark paths of strife  
We walk this little Journey of our Life, etc.   
But I am not ignorant, how Men of this Persuasion, and whose Minds are thus elevated, are not only slighted, but even laughed at, by most others: They are counted a sort of Virtuoso's, that live upon Air, and do not comprehend Substantial things.  
VII. YET, under the Correction of these Grandees, I would fain know, What is it that the High and Mighty do more enjoy than others: who, having Fortune enough, yet choose to employ but what alone is useful and of Necessity. Do the Rich or Powerful eat or drink with better Relish, than even that Man that labours the whole Day, and mixes Temperance with his Sweat? Is their Sleep more sound, or Health of Mind or Body more robust? If this commonly be otherwise, why may we not suspect, that such Potentates, and Men of Wealth, are also as much troubled with vain Imaginations, as Men that are deroted to Virtue, and the Sciences? If these must be accused for catching at the Air, and feeding on refined things; What get those others, from their Heaps and Luxuries, but even Fogs or Vapours that attend them? But whether a thick Air, or a thin, do most conduce to Health, is a Question we may put off for the present. In the mean time, take what Herace sings, in short, 
Si ventri bene, si lateri est pedibusque tuis, nil  
Divitiae possunt Regales addere majus.  
Is your body sound and clean  
From the Colic, Gout and Spleen?  
You may be happy tho you're poor,  
Greatest Wealth can give no more.   
Now if the Rich who abound, and the Poor who have no want, are hitherto equal a what concerns the Functions of the Body; 'Tis plain, they only differ in things of Fancy and Conceit. 
Horace's Epist. l. 1. Epist. 12.  Wherefore if the Dispute ●hall be, which of the two Fancies or Conceits are best, Whether of those who gape after Wealth and Honours (which are superfluous) or of those who adhere to Virtue and true Wisdom; let the Bystanders determine and give the Prize.  
VIII. LASTLY, That this Exhortation may not be defective in any part, let us, above all things, 
L. 2. c. 9 §. 14.  recommend the Divine and Intellectual Love, as being the Rule or Measure of all other Virtues. Let us, as we hope to copy aright, and to keep proportion in our Ways and Actions, never fail to have this Divine Original before our Eyes.  
And as Humility and Temperance are the two Powers of our Soul, that most contribute to procure and preserve this heavenly Perfection; So, on the other side, 'tis bodily Pleasures, and an unbridled Passion for Wealth and Honour, that extinguishes the Sense and Appetition thereof. For the Soul, in her own native Constitution, would resemble a bright and Celestial Flame; but these terrene and sordid Ardours do utterly contract and suffocate her Light. So that, while she rushes forwards, in paths of Darkness and of worldly Temptations; 'tis not possible but Offences will come, and that she must have much to answer for, both in reference to Honour and to Justice.  
He therefore that will keep alive this Vestal Fire of the Divine Love, in the Temple of his Heart; let him be Humble and Temperate.  
IX. As for those, who with Sorrow bewail, that as yet they cannot feel any thing of this Ethereal Heat; let them address to God with Prayers and Ardour, for that he is the Giver of all things. However, as bare words and wishes have but cold Effect, unless we testify by Life and Conversation, the dignity of that Internal Life which we pant after and aspire to; So, the better to accomplish our Wishes herein, let us observe the following Helps.  
Let us be watchful, to fly from all the Traps and temptations of Pleasure.  
Never to hurt any Man out of Hatred or Malice.  
That we help, and administer to the Poor, as we are able.  
To suppress our Anger, when Men either injure or revile us.  
To despise no Man for being of low Fortune or Degree; but where Honesty and Poverty meet, there even to show Respect.  
To requite Evil with Good, and to turn off sharp and bitter Say with others that are more Benign.  
To take no Revenge of our Enemies, even then when we may securely do it.  
That no Man's Friendship be so rated by us, at to forsake Truth and Virtue for it; or to prefer it to the Public Good. That is, That we be not drawn to that which may please ourselves or the dearest Friends whatever, on any sensual Account; but to consult our Conscience, Whether the matter in Question be laudable and just, and then to pursue it with Faith and Perseverance.  
X. THUS you have, what we judged necessary for acquiring of Virtue, as well in particular as in the general. Wherefore let us close all with that short Document of Pythagoras: who advises thus, That we fervently embrace and wed these Things; That we frequently meditate upon them; That we diligently put them into practice; For these will at length so establish our Feet in the paths of Divine Virtue, as never to slide or stumble, and never to deviate, or be ejected from them. And surely to attain this Perfection in Virtue, is to attain the most perfect Happiness, that Man's Nature is capable of.  
It now only remains, that we speak of Acquiring that Part, which consisteth in External Good.   

CHAP. IX. Of the Acquisition of External Good.  
I. WE have already explained, how very small a proportion of External Blessings, are absolutely needful to Man's Happiness. It now remains to inquire, If Happiness can (in any sort) appear more perfect and exalted, by the addition of all that we have styled External Blessings: Inasmuch as Moral Virtues may not a little contribute to the Acquisition of them all.  
II. WE shall first repeat the chief of them; and then show how some Virtues, if not all, do help to compass either the very Blessings themselves, 
Lib. 1. Cap. 1. Sect. 3.  or at least Things Equivalent to them, and such as perhaps we ought justly to value beyond them.  
III. AS for the first two great Branches herein; namely, the advantages of the Soul, and of the Body, 'Tis manifest that Virtue bids fair even to their particular Acquisition, or at least to their augmenting and conservation. This appears first in reference to the Soul, as in the Subtlety and Dexterity of Wit, Fidelity and Vastness of the Memory: Also in Science, Art, and Sapience.  
For is there any thing in Nature can more contribute to these Blessings, than that Philosophical Temperance, we have already described? When, on the other side, 'tis as plain, that the sharpest Wit in the World, grows blunt, and is made even stupid, by Luxury and Excess.  
iv LOOK upon Memory, and observe how strangely 'tis fortified by Sobriety, and Temperance! How 'tis extended by Exercise, which is the fruit of Diligence! But by Drunkenness, or by Lust, or Drowsiness, or Neglect, it withers, and comes to nothing.  
V 'TIS true, that neither Virtue, nor Morals do promote us in Mechanical Arts, or indeed in Natural Philosophy, or the Mathematics. But consider, I pray, how far these contribute towards Wit and Memory! How great the Power of Diligence is towards every Attempt! And 'tis manifest that, for getting the Mathematics, there must be a certain Gentleness and Patience of the Mind, to adapt a Man to that Study.  
VI BUT the Highest Gift of all Moral Philosophy, must ever be allowed to be that Prudence, which has been so accurately described already; and which has certainly a marvellous influence, as well upon all Intellectual Habits, as for the acquiring of True Wisdom. And her inseparable Consort is that Philosophical Temperance, we have spoken of before.  
Let no Man hope, without these two Virtues, ever to attain the knowledge of Things Divine, which is the only Sapience or True Wisdom. For, as Plato has it in his Phaedo, What Pretence can the Impure Man have, to the things that are Pure. And whereas the Philosopher was there contending, as if no Man could obtain pure and sincere Virtue, that had not first laid by his Body; What shall we say of those, who think much to shake off, but the very Filth and Vices of their Bodies? Men, that think a little Industry, and obstinate perseverance of the Mind, will find out Truth, without any necessity of parting with their darling Crimes? But whether this be not the voice of a Fool, or of a mad Man, is not hard to determine.  
VII. WHOEVER can be Faulty in this kind, appears to me, as a Bleer-eyed Man; whom nothing will content, but to be gazing at things distant, and to see them both clearly and distinctly. He refuses all Remedy for his Eyes, but resolves by obstinate and peremptory staring to find out the Mark. Thus he goes on, till, instead of seeing better, he every Day grows more blind: Whereas, if he consulted the Rules of Prudence and of Temperance, he would know both the Necessity, and the way, of first curing his Sight.  
VIII. Is there any Man living has Selfsufficiency enough to Contemplate God, the Soul's Immortality, and Divine Providence? Or to consider of these things solidly and sedately, without some sort of Separation or Abstraction of the Soul from the Body? That is to say, in Plato's Style, Without such a Meditation of Death, as seems to divorce us from Corporeal Affections? Or, can any Man, without some such Translation, be (as it were) rapt up into that State of Divine Love, which can only fit him for Truth, and expound the Oracles and Mysteries of things, which are otherwise Inscrutable? For by how much all Sensual and Corporeal Impressions are extinguished in us, by the application of that Prudence, and of that Philosophical Temperance we have mentioned; by so much do we grow Citizens of that Intellectual World, and ascend into the Regions of Heavenly Light.  
Wherefore, Sapience, or the knowledge of Divine Mysteries, is the true Offspring of that Virtue, which is entire, absolute, and consummated.  
IX. As to those Blessings which refer to the Body, such as Strength, Agility, Health, and Comeliness. 'Tis true that Strength is not so much the Gift of Virtue as of Nature; tho 'tis as true, that the preservation of it is owing to Virtue. Nay, 'tis not improbable, but that a Body, in declination of Health, may, by hardships, exercise, and some Fatigue, become more vigorous and robust.  
For Agility: This may not only be as the Pupil, but even the Child of Virtue: Since Temperance and Diligence, do commonly wear down the bulk and excrescence of the Body, and rather furnish a Stock of Spirits, than of Flesh. In which case, Agility must succeed of course.  
X. BUT the most high and conspicuous gift of Virtue, is that of Bodily Health; which as it may be owing in part to every Virtue: so more especially to Temperance and Piety. I think it was the Chaldean Oracle did thus pronounce; 
Ad Pietatis Opus vegetum si extenderis Ignem  
Mentis, & hos fluxos sanabis corporis Artus.  
Would you the best Physician find  
For a crazed Body, or afflicted Mind?  
Try what the power of Piety can do,  
It heals the Mind, and cures the Body too.  For a purified Mind goes a great way to the purging and purifying of the Body: it darts upon it some Rays, which have great effect, and which corroborate the powers thereof. Whereas, if the Soul be taken up by consuming Cares and Cupidities; If Hatred and Malice make all things ghastly and sour within: How can it be, but that the Body must also droop, the Health whither, and the Force decline?  
If therefore such Dilapidations can arise from the remote impressions of the Mind; What will not those more immediate strokes accomplish; I mean, Eating long, and Drinking deep and daily, and the insolence of an ungovernable Lust?  
XI. THE Diseases of the Body are, for the most part, from the Vices of the Mind; and even the Offspring of sinful Parents do often inherit their Infirmities, as well as their Acres. But there is no Remedy so powerful, for such an Encumbrance, as a severe application to Virtue and Piety. For as Justice had a Being before all the Vices of the Mind; so was Health more ancient than all the Sicknesses of the Body. Thus is one brought in, by Maximus Tyrius, to pray, O Health, the most Ancient of all the other Goddesses; What would I give to enjoy thee, but the little remainder of my days! Certainly, no Man can better pretend to such a Wish, than he who is sincerely Virtuous and Devout.  
XII. AND as bodily Health is thus gotten and sustained by Virtue; so does Virtue confer Comeliness and Decorum to all the Parts. For Beauty is but as the Fruit, or flower of Health, nay, 'tis very Health itself; just as Virtue is the very health and beauty of the Soul. For where this presides, the inward motion of the Spirits throws joy into the Countenance; and such sparkling through the Eyes, that the Beholders are drawn into love and admiration by it: Even the whole Body, when actuated by a beautiful Soul, is pleasing in all its Gestures. 
Lib. 10. Sect. 15.  Antoninus' said, That a good Man could not conceal himself, if he did but open his Eyes; For his Benignity and Probity broke out, and revealed him to all Beholders.  
XIII. ON the contrary, we may easily observe the Crisis when a Man is falling from his native Innocence or acquired Virtue, and is warping towards. Vice and Immorality; He carries a sort of Traitor in his Countenance, who reveals all he is about. For though the shape and colour of his Face may look the same to vulgar Eyes, yet a sharper sight will find a fading and declination in all the Finer Parts: that which once was fresh and florid, is now withering; that which sparkled, is hardly bright: the Air itself of the countenance, made up of quick and congruous motions resulting from every part, and as it were darting Life, is now stupid and irregular. Alas, those inward Spirits, that supported all, are sick, and their activity is but counterfeit! So that, as now the whole contrivance of the Mien and Gesture is grown Artificial, it will in a short time, become also Impudent. But this is not the Face of Virtue, or the Image of that Moral Beauty, we have hitherto set forth.  
XIV. FOR we also affirm, that those, who are contending for Virtue, and who seriously aspire to the purified state of the Mind; One may even in their Eyes and Aspects behold a Light and Comeliness growing on, as a Prelibation of what they seek. Nay, where the Face is pale, and wasted by (perhaps) too fervent a pursuit of Virtue and true Wisdom; Yet, even in such paleness and Consumption, the Beholders see a certain Complacency and good Nature which is venerated by them. Wherefore, we conclude, no Man wants bodily Decoration, where that of the Soul is not first wanting: for 'tis the Soul that governs those Inward Spirits, on whose supply and regularity, all that is exterior depends.  
XV. THUS far we have shown, how much Virtue contributes to the getting of such benefits, as make either for the Mind, or for the Body. It now remains, to find what help she gives in acquiring the good things that relate to Man, as he is composed of both: I mean, those Accommodations of Liberty, Riches, Nobility, Friendship, and such like. Now these being Things of that sort, which are commonly called the Gifts of Fortune; we are not to expect, that they hold so close and necessary a Conjunction with Virtue, as what we have already mentioned. However that even these things also are by Virtue most easily acquirable, is no hard task to demonstrate.  
XVI. FIRST, As to Liberty, 'tis plain how every Nation owes to their Virtue and Fortitude, that they are not overrun, but preserved from the slavery of Invaders. And, even in the state of Prisoners and Captives by War, how many Instances have we in the Roman Comedies, that, for the Fidelity, Diligence, or Prudence, found in such Captives, their Lords have afterwards made them Free. How much our Liberty is preserved, by the observation of Laws and Justice, need not otherwise be expounded, than to observe, how Traitors to their King and Country, Thieves and Murderers, are put in Chains, Condemned, and dispatched.  
XVII. BUT should a worthy Man, and for Virtue's sake, be thrown into a Dungeon (which yet rarely happens) he must not be thought as totally deprived of Liberty. 'Tis true, if there were Power enough, to sequester him from God and Virtue, this were sufficient to make any Man tremble, and to make every Jail look horrid. But of this sort none are capable but men of Impiety, and the Profligate. How vainly therefore do the Oppressors menace the Virtuous, with a solitary, or even a nasty Jail? Can any Man, that is comforted and assisted by the Divine Presence, think of his Ill Accommodation? Or he that has the Feast of a good Conscience, and the Ministration of all the Virtues attending him, think himself much alone?  
XVIII. AFTER all, seeing Liberty is nothing but the power of Doing as you please: 'Tis plain, a good Man can be Free, whether in Prison, or in Chains. For we affirm, that he evermore acts according to his own Will and Pleasure, who has resigned both to the Divine Providence, and never wishes any other thing may happen to him, but even that which happens. This conformity of the Mind, is highly expressed by the Philosopher Antoninus, O thou vast and Beautiful Universe, 
Lib. 4. Cap. 23.  created and supported by God, let every thing be delightful to me, that is pleasing and congruous to thyself.  
XIX. As to the bearing of Honour: Who can imagine any one more qualified for Public Trust, than the Honest Man? Are there not a whole train of Virtues, that both adorn and support him? As, namely, 

Justice,  
Magnanimity,  
Faith,  
Constancy,  
Munificence,  
Prudence,  
Fortitude,  
Vigilance:  
And the like.   And is there any part of the World, where Men are chosen to Public Office, but under these Characters? At least under the pretence and Notion of such: So as all the Salalaries, the Praises, and the Prostrations, that are paid them, come in on this Account. Now where (in truth) the Men are even quite otherwise: yet you may reckon them as the Statues and Images of good Men, and as adorned with their Names and Inscriptions. And while Worship and Veneration is thus paid them, we may suppose, that those good Men, whom they personate, receive it, as it happens in the case of absent and invisible Gods. So that no Man has more a Title to Honours, than the Man of Probity: For either he, or his Representative, is universally Honoured by all Men.  
XX. As to the gathering of Riches, you will say that a Man of Probity is out of his way. For that Fraud, Rapine, and Treachery, Adulation, or Breach of Trust, and the like, do chief contribute to the Heaping of Wealth, and are the most compendious ways of procuring it. But we are of Opinion, 'tis a very foolish Bargain, to pay for any thing ten times more than 'tis worth: And we cannot but think, this is the Case, when a Man shall barter away his Virtue (even the smallest grains thereof) either for Wealth, or for High Place. There are, as we think, certain Gifts conferred by Virtue, which (doubtless) have power enough, to bring in Honest Plenty, and sufficient Wealth: I mean, Diligence, Fidelity, Frugality, Temperance, and the like. It was Cicero's Exclamation, O wretched Man, that knows not what an Inheritance it is to be Frugal!  
XXI. As for the Attainment of Nobility: Whoever called in doubt, that there was any other Source thereof than Virtue? Or that Nobility, and Virtue, were not evermore the same? But of this, we have spoken more largely before.  
XXII. IN the last Place, as to all Friendships; 'Tis visible, how much they depend on Virtue: Since no Genuine Love, or sincere Friendship, can be Cemented without it. The rest is all Spurious; Whether it be a Combination, in order to fordid Gain, or Companions of Joy, that amuse themselves with light and transitory things.  
'Tis Virtue alone that attracts and retains true Friendship: For (as Laelius speaks Elegantly in Tully) She, when she Exalts herself, when she exposes her Light, when she beholds and approves the same quality in others, she moves presently towards it; and, by a sort of Coalition, joins to herself that which was before in another: And that this is the true Generation of Love and Friendship. He farther adds, That Friendship is nothing else, but to Love without Interest or Design. 
De Natura Deorum, l. 1.  And (in his Book de Naturâ Deorum) he does a little adorn this Sense, by these further words: If we turn our Friendship to our own Profit, and not to his, whom we pretend to love; this will not be Friendship, but merely Traffic on our own Accounts.  
Hence 'tis plain, that there is not, in this Mortal State, a greater Bulwark than Virtue: for she carries a Charm with her; drawing Men on to Love and good Will: And then 'tis impossible, but all their Assistance, and good Offices, must attend us.  
XXIII. YET here let us observe what comes to pass about Truth: Which, though it certainly makes one in Virtue's Choir; yet 'tis reputed a sort of Foe to Friendship, and as producing rather Hatred and Ill-will. But to me it has ever been a sort of Riddle in Human Affairs, and deserving laughter; to see how the generality of Men hate the voice of that very Judge, unto whom however they perpetually seem willing to appeal.  
Certainly no firm and durable Friendship, can subsist any more without Truth, than without Faith and Simplicity, which are the Pillars of all true Friendship. Cicero says, Neither the Double-minded, nor the Changeable Intriguer must be relied on for Fidelity. And let us add to these, the Men of Darkness and great Reserve. He that does even molest his Friend with Truth, has less to answer for; than a flattering Parasite, who is obsequious to every Vice, and can indulge, or abet his Friend to his utter destruction.  
To Men of sincere Virtue, this Truth never comes amiss: for every prudent Admonition, that is not attended with Scoffs or Contumely, is a Sermon they harken to with Wonder and Delight. For, as they grow better by it; so they have testimony of what is very Rare, namely, perfect Virtue, and perfect Friendship, together.  
XXIV. IT were easy for me, I confess, to be more copious, and dwell longer upon such Particulars: But these Hints will be enough to inculcate, How much Virtue imports to the Acquisition of all External Goods: And that, against the Changes and Chances of this Human Life, there is no other true Sanctuary but Virtue.   

CHAP. X. Of that Good, which is External, Supreme, and Eternal; according to the Mind of the Philosophers.  
I. THERE now only remains one External Good, which also is Eternal. To Heaven it is that we all Aspire, and to the Society of Blessed Spirits: And there is no other Path, or Stratagem, can lead hereto, but Virtue. This is set forth in that of the Oracle, touching the Ghost of Plotinus, and its passing to the Happy State. 
— Ad Coetum jam venis almum  
Heroum blandis spirantem leniter auris;  
Heîc ubi amicitia est, ubi molli fronte cupido  
Laetitiâ replens, liquidâ pariterque repletus  
Semper ab Ambrosiis foecundo è numine rivis.  
Unde serena quies castorum & dulcis amorum  
Illecebra, ac placidi suavissima flamina venti.  Which may be Englished thus: 
And now you're come to th' Happy Choir  
Of Heroes where, their blessed Souls retire  
Where softest Winds, do as soft Joys inspire:  
Here dwells chaste Friendship, with so pure a flame,  
That Love knows no satiety, or shame,  
But gives and takes new Joys, and yet is still the same,  
Th' Ambrosian Fountains with fresh Pleasure's spring,  
And gentle Zephyrus does new Odours bring.  
These gifts for Inoffensive Ease are lent,  
And both conspire to make Love Innocent.   
II. THAT holy Vow and Profession, which was made by Cato (in Tully's Book the Senectute) has resemblance with this very Description. 
Cicero de Senectute.  For he says, I repent me not of having Lived, because I have lived so, as never to have thought I was born in vain; and I departed this Life, not as from my House, but as from an Inn. For Nature has not here afforded us an Habitation, but barely a resting Place. O glorious Day, when I shall hasten to the great Assembly of blessed Souls, and be delivered from this Crowd, and from that Dungeon, wherein I live!  
III. 
De Consolation.  THIS Opinion Cicero (in his Treatise de Consolation) repeats as his own, saying, I am none of those, who believe the Soul can die with the Body; and that so great a Light, kindled by Divine Nature in the Mind, can be extinguished: but rather, that after some certain space of time, it will return to Immortality. Now this by him is so expressed, as if our present life were a sort of a death to the Soul. And the same (in his Somnio Scipionis) is elegantly affirmed by Africanus, 
De somnio Scipionis.  when Cornelius asked him, If his dead Friends should live? Yes (says he) they truly live, who are extricated from the Chains of the Body, as from a Prison: For your Life, as you so call it, is Death. Many are the passages of this Force, up and down, in Cicero: Not to speak of what might be found in Plotinus and Plato.  
iv NOW inasmuch as the hope of Immortality, was so plain and conspicuous of old, even to mere Pagans: How could we (possibly) exclude it from Moral Philosophy? For by this it appears, that whatever external vexations innocent Virtue shall, in this Life, suffer (whether by hidden Fate, or by the Violence, Envy, or Improbity of wicked Men) there will be a just and most infallible compensation for it. Wherefore the Good and the Magnanimous, being exalted by this Hope, look on the World with contempt: They trample upon inferior things; and cannot regard any human Accidents as culpable, since nothing has regard to them, but what is of Virtue and Immortality. 'Tis to this very Sense, that Cicero does elsewhere magnify the power of Virtue.  
V SOCRATES is memorable for this same Confidence and Hope; since in the strength thereof, he was enabled to undervalue both his Enemies and his Death. He, whom the Oracle of Apollo pronounced the wisest Man, would memorably in this deserve that Character. For, while he doubted of all other things, as to the Soul's Immortality he was ever fixed. So Laelius testifies of him (in Tully) That he was now of one Sentiment, and then of another, in most other things; Yet as to the Point of Immortality, he always affirmed, That the Minds of Men were Divine; and that, as soon as they departed the Body, there was a most expeditious return of every just and virtuous Soul into Heaven.  
VI ON this Contemplation, let every Man therefore resolve, that although Virtue may (in some Cases) appear to be against our Interest in reference to worldly things; yet are we to stand by it with an unshaken Mind: especially since, after this span of Life is past, there will redound a vast reward and gratification to the Just. Nay, let us rather count, that what we suffer in Externals (as, suppose in Fortune or in Health) is rather to our Advantage: Since, if we make a wise use of our misfortunes, and understand them for kind Admonitions (as indeed they are) by how much we are disappointed, or despoiled, in outward Things; by so much, and more also, will the Mind be sanctified and enriched.  
'Tis worth observing, that all Good, which is External, must fade and corrupt even as the Body itself: while yet the Internal Things are as lasting as the Soul. So that to think, what we suffer in Body or Goods, to be a detriment or Curse, when we are likely to gain by it a more ample and perpetual Recompense; is a strange Error in Accounts.  
VII. NAY farther yet. If a Man had bought a thing at ten times less than the Value; Would it not sound odd, to hear him complain, that the bargain had undone him? Even so is it with the loss of outward Things: Men murmur at Divine Providence, while yet they acquire such improvement to the Soul thereby, as does not only govern the Happiness of this Life, but guide us to a better, for all Eternity to come. Wherefore let no Man be too froward, when the crosses and vexations of this World come thick upon him; they are the Gifts and Blessings of a wise God, who best knows what Physic we need for the Health and Conduct of our Souls.  
By these Trials it is, that we can only find out the strength and authority of Virtue: These gratings rub off the rust and tarnish of Vice: they engender Prudence, Fortitude, Sincerity, and all other Virtues: at least they detect our hypocritical and ridiculous Pretences unto them. So that we will conclude, although these Visitations may seem rude and bitter to the taste, yet in operation they are wholesome, and produce Salutiferous effects.  
VIII. BUT now as to such External Evils, which can not otherwise afflict the Mind, than by Imagination: 
Enchiridion, c. 10.  Or else, as Epictetus has it, That things themselves did not disquiet Men, but their own false Opinions of things. I must needs aver, that Men thus afflicted merely by their Fancies, so as to make things intolerable, are but poor Proficients in Virtue: It deserves not the name of Virtue, 
L. 2. c. 10. §. 18. L. 3. c. 10. §. 16.  which is not able of itself, to lay flat all imaginary Passions. 'Tis true, it may reasonably be thought that there are some Sufferings above the force of Human Nature; such as bodily Pains, which come by Sickness, that neither can be smothered, nor dissembled; And that some Tortures are so exquisite, as to be beyond any constancy of the Mind to support.  
However, Cicero speaks Excellently hereof (as indeed of every thing else) He says, That Pain is a sharp Adversary to Virtue; 
Tusculan. Quaest. l. 5.  It menaces with burning Torches; It insults over Fortitude and Magnanimity; and ventures to subdue even Patience itself. But thus it would not so frequently happen, if the fault were not our own: For Nature herself, if rightly tutored and habituated, would prove a sort of invincible Thing. But we alas (the more is our shame) have infected our Minds with Sloth, with Shadows, and Intemperance: Nay, we have so scribbled over our Souls with Notions, and odd Opinions, that no room is left, for inserting one sound, or substantial Truth.  
IX. HOWEVER we may observe, that 'tis not above the compass of Human Nature, to bear excessive Pains, when they are willingly undertaken. We have strange Examples what has been suffered for Glory, or by Custom or Superstition: Of which the very true Relations are almost incredible. As  
X. 
Tusculan. Quaest. l. 2.  THAT of the Spartan Boys (which Tully mentions in his Tusculane) who being brought to the Altar, could bear beating, not only, till the blood gushed from their Bowels, but till they actually died: And all this without Crying, or without a Groan.  
That of the Indian Wives, who (being many to every Husband) have contended, even to the tearing off Hair, which of them should go into the Fire alive, and burn with the dead Man.  
That of the Egyptians, 
Tusculan. Quaest. l. 5.  who would rather be executed themselves, than kill a Stork, an Asp, a Dog, or a Cat.  
There are also, among the Turks and Americans, amazing Instances of spontaneous Suffering; Some on superstitious Accounts, and others for Ostentation. And almost all Histories do swarm with Examples of this kind.  
XI. NOW, I say, if Nature, thus Rude, thus Illiterate, thus Barbarous and unprovided, thus insensible of true Virtue or of Excellent Things, could in patience and firmness of the Mind, so highly excel; What should not true Virtue do? That Divine Thing, I mean, which holds Conjunction with God above; that is fortified with the splendid expectation of a blessed Immortality. Can, I say, this Champion ever give ground? Shall Virtue crouch, where even the barbarous have scorned to stoop? God forbidden! And of Virtue, that is perfect and sincere, let it never be said! 'Tis true, there is a Nice Generation of pretenders to Virtue; such as keep up a general Acquaintance, and fain would be valued on the score of some Familiarity with her: But if a Storm arise, or any Battles are to be fought on her account, they are presently Men of another Climate, and their truest Religion is about Riches, Honour, and sensual Delights.  
XII. NOW since we could prove by infinite Examples (if brevity were not in our Care) that 'tis not beyond the reach of a considerate Man, to overcome the greatest difficulties: Let us bend our Souls to the Acquiring this true and perfect Patience. This is the Virtue, that subdues, and will enable us even to despise, as well the pleasures of the Body, as all the sorrows that can attend it. And let no Man fancy to himself, or pretend to others, that he is possessed of any Virtue at all, till he has attained that Patience, which we here set forth. For as bare Virtue is a high Reward, yet Happy Immortality is one of the certain Fruits thereof; So let us retain it immovably, and let us never imagine that we have it at all, unless we can hold it fast.  
XIII. HERE some may contemptuously ask, Whether or no this our Philosophy be the shortest way to be Happy? And whether these Rules are the method to enrich a Man's Family, or to make him a Magistrate? And whether this celebrated Virtue and good Conscience, do not rather conduct a Man to the Faggot, or to the Gallows; even as Examples, without Number, do testify, in all Ages, and in every Climate?  
To this we must take leave to Demur, by laying open the true Nature of Virtue. Which is not a thing calculated for peculiar Places and particular Seasons; but has a general reference to all Times, and to every Place, to procure us Felicity in both. It doth also, on the other hand, enable us either to resist Evils; Or, if they prevail, to bear them with Equality, and resignation.  
How far Virtue contributes to the getting of Wealth, Honours, and the like, 
L. 1. c. 1. Srct. 3. L. 3. c. 9 Sect. 2.  has been already shown. I will only add that Honest Poverty is preferable to illgotten Riches: And such (I take it) are manifestly illgotten and ill-kept, wher-ever Virtue has suffered for it, either in the whole, or in its smaller part. Wherefore let Virtue be your Child's Inheritance: if they have this, they will never stand in need of superfluous Wealth; and if they have it not, you ought not to break your Heart to make them Rich.  
XIV. As to the Objection, For fear of Burning or the Gallows: take this for granted, that if you want the Armour of Patience against all Tribulations and Temptations whatever that may happen, you then carry in your Bosom that Serpent Cowardice, which will urge you to betray your Prince, your Country, your Friends, your Religion, and even all together, if it fairly comes in your way. Whereas if Patience, do but fortify and corroborate your Mind; it will embolden you to stand in defiance against those mighty Bugbears. You may, in scorn of them, declare, that the Soul of Man is not to be scorched by Fire, nor choked by Water; nor can the Butchers chop it into parcels: That Virtue cannot, even by Violence, be torn from it, or God himself be separated from Virtue and the Soul.  
XV. BESIDES, this also may be reflected on, that our Life is but as a Thing deposited with us by God. Now if God shall call for his own Pledge, How can we, with Sense or Honesty, refuse so just and potent a Benefactor, or be unwilling to restore back what he lent? But this Pledge is always called for, as often as any Conditions for Life are made us, which cannot consist with that Observance, which we own to God and to Virtue.  
XVI. LASTLY, Let us take Comfort in this, That God is not usually wanting to his Children, in their Extremities; that, if the Mind shall retain its Integrity and persevere to the last, 'tis scarce in the power of Torment to interrupt our Happiness. 
L. 2. c. 10. §. 18. L. 3. c. 10. §. 8. L. 2. c. 10 §. 19 L. 3. c. 3. §. 10.  For the Soul is then as it were absorped with God, and in full prospect of a blessed Immortality. She knows the Flames and Scourges of this World cannot disfigure her; For when their worst is done, 'tis She finally shall Conquer; That she, as a long Exile, is now solemnly recalled to her Native Country: that She is remounting to the Region of blessed Souls; and even sees them, as gazing upon her with joy, and as shouting with Acclamations at her approach.  
XVII. O the Joys! O the Triumphs! O what Embraces from that Illustrious Assembly! What Words, and Welcome, and Eulogies, will they bestow, for what she so direfully suffered, and so bravely overcame, in the defence of Virtue and of Truth! How will the Mansions above Echo and Rebound, with Hallelujahs of that Heavenly Choir! Or how rather, will this victorious Soul, enter with Triumph into those Mansions, where Felicity is never to end! 'Tis in this Happy Station, where Love and Friendship are always Young, still Unblemished, and evermore Sincere. Here Holy Angels, and all those Resplendent Being's, which are above, do not only behold the Beauties of each other, but Communicate, and even Discourse, by some unspeakable Way: But this is sure, that Truth shines out in its utmost Purity, and Virtue is bright and manifest in all they say. Besides, here are no Vicissitudes, all is Peace, all Security, and all things are Stationary and fixed. In short, here is a Consummation of the Soul's blessed Estate; And it were impossible to find it elsewhere.  
XVIII. AND how could this otherwise be, since the Mind of Man is as the Image of God, drawn and descending from him. And being drawn from God; it covets Heaven, as desirous to return from whence it came. All Inclinations towards the Earth savour of the Body; But as to the Soul, her Habitation is above, and her true Country is Heaven. For as Cicero Discourses wisely of this Matter, There can no Origination of the Soul be found upon Earth. 
De Consolation.   
XIX. WHEREFORE let us admire that Quickening Life; which, when freed from our Earthly Tabernable, will touch and penetrate our Souls with Joy! O that happy State of victorious Virtue, attended and surrounded with Triumphs and Content! And ever Happy be that Death and Torment, which shall conduct the firm and unshaken Soul, to Pleasures that are Ineffable.  
XX. HERE, we confess, are great things spoken; and so perhaps through this whole Work: Yet we suppose they are not greater, than what belongs to the true and genuine Description of Moral Philosophy. They are not beyond the Compass and Meaning of Right Reason; nor exceed the Professions and Memorials of the most Excellent of the Heathens.  
XXI. HOWEVER, That Religion may not be defrauded of her due Honour, I do here also profess, testify, and declare, that I think nothing is found in the Writings of the Philosophers, or commemorated as the Deeds and Say of Renowned Heathens; But all their Flights and Raptures (whether about God, or the Soul, or Virtue) are owing, either to the very Doctrine, or to the Ancient Cabala or Tradition of the most Primitive Church of God, Or else to the Eternal Son, that Logos, or WORD of God; Who has, in all Ages past, endowed every Man with some Sense of Honesty; Tho some Men have always been more Burning, and more Shining Lights, than the rest.  
For this WORD is that True Light, which Enlighteneth all Men that come into this World: even as the Scripture has it. Now that Pythagoras drew his Knowledge from the Hebrew Fountains, is what all Writers, Sacred and Profane, do testify and aver. That Plato took from him the principal part of that Knowledge, touching God, the Soul's Immortality, and the Conduct of Life and Good Manners, has been doubted by no Man. And that it went from him, into the Schools of Aristotle, and so derived and diffused, almost into the whole World, is in like manner attested by all.  
XXII. WHEREFORE, as the Virtue, and Wisdom, and Excellency, of so many of the Old Heathens, does not a little Illustrate the Power and Benignity of the Divine Providence, and the extent of its Gifts: So can these Men, in no degree, either obscure, or derogate from, the Glory of the Church. For they, as we said, did but borrow their precious Things, either from the Church of God, or from the Divine Logos or WORD. That Word which the old Church (I mean that of the Jews) did worship when it shined from the Tabernacle: and which the New Church (I mean that of the Christians) still adores in the Human Nature of the Messiah, as in the glorious Temple of its Residence. And may it be Worshipped and Adored for ever and ever. Amen.    
FINIS.