illustration attributed to Michael Burghers; caption is from the Aeneid, Book IV, l. 232 Accendet Tantarum Gloria Rerum MBurghers scu●… A DISCOURSE UPON THE Nature and Faculties OF MAN, IN Several Essays: With some CONSIDERATIONS Upon the OCCURRENCES OF Humane Life. BY Tim. Nourse, Gent. London, Printed for Jacob Tonson at the Judge's Head in Chancery-Lane, near Fleetstreet, 1686. To the Right Honourable, GEORGE Marquis of HALLIFAX, etc. Lord Precedent of His majesty's most Honourable Privy-Council. My Lord, THe Greatness of my Presumption in making this Address, would appear more legible from the Greatness of your Character, did not the Subject, here treated of, hold some Proportion with the Person, whose Patronage it implores: In prefixing therefore your Lordship's Name to the following Treatise, after the Example of most Writers, I do in the very Front show the Sum and Abridgement of the whole Discourse, not of what I have writ, but of what really is possible to be written of the Worth and Excellence of Man's Nature. There are two Things which do more eminently denominate a Man; Capacity, and Courage; of which, one lays claim to the Head, the other to the Heart, but both to your Lordship. This those can witness, who have had the honour to stand within the Circles of the Court, and to be privy to the Debates of the Royal Council, over which you now preside. Nay, the whole Nation can witness it, your great Virtues having so often shown themselves upon the greatest Theatre, and to the Universal Benefit of this Kingdom, so that there is no man can be so blind as not to see them, nor so ungrateful, if he hath any sense of his own, or of his Country's Safety, as not to own an Obligation to them. The Quarrel which your Lordship did espouse, as it was the justest, so was it the greatest of the Age, whether we consider the Quality, the Number, and above all the Exquisite Contrivances of the adverse Party, amongst which the old Shame of pretending Religion seemed to be most Popular, which was no other than the Policy of the Algerines, who most design the Slavery of Christians when they hang out Christian Colours. Insolence flew high when Faction was prosperous, which was at the Point of breaking forth into open Rebellion, so that a more Hellish Combustion had like to have subverted the Parliament House, than that designed by the Powder-plot, had not His Majesty of Blessed Memory timely separated the Firebrands. Before which time, even then when the Royal Cause lay most ableeding, 'twas a piece doubtless of great generosity in one of such a Patrimonial Fortune, as that to which your Birthright did entitle you, to espouse and defend it, for in case of Defeat your loss had been most considerable, and in case of Success, you could not expect an increase of Fortune from any Office of the State; So that no consideration of your own Interest, but that only of Loyalty and true Honour could invite to Action: And yet let the Fortunes of Subjects be as great as the Exigences of Princes, the latter cannot be out of a capacity of giving, nor the former of receiving suitable Rewards, and Marks of Bounty; This your Lordship has in some measure tasted of in the Hereditary Honours conferred upon your Blood, such a Reward being justly due to one, who with such Courage, Constancy, and Success did vindicate the Hereditary Rights of the Blood Royal, and the just Descent and Prerogatives of the English Crown. Your Counsels were Loyal, and (what is yet more rare) prosperous not only in the effect they had, but also in the Benefit we all enjoy, since 'tis not to be doubted but that they smoothed the way to the glorious and peaceable Succession of the wisest and most just of Kings, under whose Reign we cannot but expect Felicity. The Preservation of Monarchy amongst so many Treasons as threatened it and the Kingdom, was as great and miraculous as its Restoration; the Memories of those, who were eminent herein, will be Sacred to Posterity: You had both of you the same Name; a Name which may it ever be auspicious, as it has been ever tutelar to this Kingdom, being now famous without a Fiction for destroying the Monster, which was to be fed with nothing less than Royal Blood. The Monster of the Age, which had the Ravenous Wolf always gnawing in his Bosom, had foresight good enough of what your Counsels would produce, when he prevailed with the worst part (I had almost said the Rump) of a House of Commons, to list you among those five ever Honourable and Noble Peers, whom they petitioned to be removed from attendance on His Majesty of Sacred Memory, for no other Reason, but because your great Abilities made you capable to discover, and your great Courage made you resolute to oppose the Pernicious Practices of that Desperate Cabal. But as your Lordship has given ample Proof of the greatness of your Mind towards the correcting of Public Misdemeanours, I shall now crave leave to make trial of the same Magnanimity in Pardoning private Faults; And for this your Lordship will find sufficient matter, if you give yourself the trouble to read the following Discourse, which how much soever it may be beneath your Acceptance, will not be found, I hope, beyond your Pardon, which if I can obtain, next to your own Safety and Felicity is all that can be wished for by Your Lordship's Most humble, most faithful, and most Obedient Servant, Tim. Nourse. The Sum of the following Discourse, wherein Man is considered under these two states of Formation and Maturity. Man's Formation consists of these two general Parts, his Generation and Education. Of the Generation of Man, as also of the Frame and Fabric of his Body, together with the Original of the Animal, and rational Faculties Chap. 1. Man's Education consists in Erudition Chap. 2, and 3. Exercise Chap. 4. Travel Chap. 5. In Man as under a state of Maturity, we consider the Perfections or Gifts of Body, Mind, Fortune. The Perfections of his Body are Health Chap. 6. Strength Chap. 7. Beauty Chap. 8. The Perfections of Man's Mind considered in 1. The dependency of the Soul on the Animal Faculties Chap. 9 2. Instruments of the Soul External, viz. the five Senses Chap. 10. Internal, Memory and Imagination Chap. 11, & 12. 3. The Principal Faculties of the Soul, viz. The Will and Passions. The Intellect. Of the Will and Passions in General Chap. 13. In Particular Of Love and Hatred, Jealousy and Envy, Desire and Dislike Chap. 14. Of Hope and Fear, Presumption and Despair Chap. 15. Of Joy and Sorrow Chap. 16. Of Anger and Clemency, or Mildness Chap. 17. Of the Intellectual Operations in General Chap. 18. In Particular of Science Chap. 19 Contemplation Chap. 20. Judgement Chap. 21. Of the Goods of Fortune in General Chap. 22. In Particular of Birth Chap. 23. Riches Chap. 24. Great place Chap. 25. Friendship Chap. 26. Fame and Reputation Chap. 27. With some Corollaries touching the most remarkable Occurrences of Life. Viz. of Conversation Chap. 28. Solitude Chap. 29. Employment Chap. 30. Study Chap. 31. Marriage and Single-life Chap. 32. Death. Chap. 33. The Conclusion. That it is in the Power of every man to advance his own happiness. Courteous Reader, THe Hand in which these Papers were writ, being something difficult to be read, hath occasioned some Errors, which if uncorrected will render the sense in many places very difficult to be understood; as for mispointings and mispelling, being such mistakes as are incident to the Press, 'tis hoped they may be pardoned by your Candour. Farewell. ERRATA. PAge 8. line 4. for thire, read there, p. 9 l. 7. f. entail them upon, r. entai upon them, p. 15. l. 23. f. whom thire, r. whose, p. 21. l. 29. f. mere r. mean, p. 33. l. 12. r. intends to deal with, p. 41. l. 18. f. Bodies r. Body, p. 85. l. 7. f. light r. lights, p. 86. l. penult. deal of, p. 88 l. 16. f. Notion r. Notions, p. 89. l. 20. f. Proportion r. Proposition, p. 112. l. 24. f. Andronicus, Comnenus r. Andronicus Comnenus, p. 124. l. 8. f. Conquest r. Coquette, p. 130. l. ult. f. Coercion r. Aversion, p. 150. l. 8. f. merit r. mind, p. 155. l. 15. f. Lucius, Sylla, r. Lucius Sylla, p. 156. l. 3. f. by r. of, p. 176. l. 14. f. vices r. views, ibid. l. 17. f. the r. a vast, ibid. l. 22. f. Art r. Act, p. 177. l. 1. f. How r. Here we, p. 190. l. 5. f, Name r. War, p. 198. l. 27. f. and a Confessor r. and a Cordelier, p. 210. l. 9 f. lives r. levies, p. 212. l. 21. f. reserved r. relieved, p. 212. l. 24. f. seem r. seeming, p. 224. l. 11. f. other r. the other, p. 232. l. 21. f. has won r. is won, p. 237. l. 25. f. as are r. as were, p. 245. l. 4. f. step r. slip, p. 246. l. 3. f. gives rest to r. grows into, p. 254. l. 22. f. serve r. serves, p. 257. l. 16. f. favours r. favourites, p. 260. l. 29. f. unsaw r. unsow, p. 263. l. 13. f Monsieur Facet r. Mons. Faret, p. 265. l. 6. f. the moral virtues r. their moral virtues, p. 267. l. 22. f. another r. another's, p. 268s l. 23. f. and to give r. and will give. p. 273. l. 20. f. several Sciences r. liberal Sciences, p. 275. l. 20. f. Actions r. Actors, p. 278. l. 13. f. does not r. do not, p. 286. l. 29. f. fanatic clowns r. fanatic Clans, p. 315. l. 10. f. and then tames, r. and then values, p. 319. l. 6. f. Valerius r. Vatinius, p. 323. l. 22. f. came of the Seas, stands r. came of the Seas, he stands, p. 333. l. 10. f. continuing r. continual, p. 334. l. 2. f. Carrier r. Courier, p. 340. l. 14. f. by a right measure r. by weight, measure, ibid. l. 16. f. compute the face r. compute the force, p. 341. l. 9 f. Alterations r. Altercations, p. 344. l. 26. f. yet men, r. that men, p. 369. l. 5. f. over the best r. over the list, ibid. l. 14. f Gueft r. gift, p. 373. l. 1. f. Remarks r. Remora's, p. 383. l. 21. f. such little r: such like, p. 385. l. 13. deal to be, ibid. l. 23. f. Peasures r. Pleasures, p. 389. l. 24. f. do toe Intellctuals r. do to our Intellectuals, p. 381. l. 13. f. Seats r. Sects, p. 401. l. 5. f. causes the Name r. carries the Name, p. 404. l. 29. f. Equity r. Equality, p▪ 399. l. 14. f. Necessary goods r. accessary goods, p. 408. l. r. f. taught the same sentence r. taught to pass the same sentence, p. 409. l. 1. f. cheer and whereas r. cheer; whereas, p. ult.l.penult. f. in the open sighed r. in the open light. p. 388. l 23. f. Examinion, r. Examination. CHAP. I. Of the Generation of Man, as also of the Animal and Rational Faculties. MAN the Subject of this following Discourse, is the Subject also of our Wonder, if we consider him either in his first production, or in the continuance and propagation of his Race: After that Almighty God had in a wise and wonderful manner framed the World, in the last place he creates Man after his own Image, and gives him Power and Dominion over all living Creatures: By this signifying that the Heavens and Earth with all their glorious Bodies, then in their greatest Lustre and Perfection, were all made for the Sake and Service of this one noble Creature, with which he summed up the whole Creation. But waving these Considerations, together with the Consequences of that happy State (of which our Nature was deprived) as things of which we are informed only by Divine Revelation, it will be more suitable to the scope of this Discourse to consider Man as he now stands in a state of Nature, subject to Generation and Corruption, and obnoxious to all the Changes incident to a mortal Life; and under this Capacity we may consider him, as consisting of two parts, of a Soul, and of a Body. First for his Body, and the Generation of it. 'Tis certain that humane Race is propagated by the same way as that of bruit Animals. It would be a laborious, though not a tedious Curiosity to trace Nature in its several advances from the imperfect state of an Embryon, to that of a mature Offspring, contained in a just and full formation of all its Parts. But 'tis Entertainment sufficient for our present Thoughts, if we consider the great variety of Parts which serve for the Constitution of a humane Body: Some are useful for Life, others for Nutrition, others again for Motion. Let us but consider a little the Receptacles of Images, the Regions of Imagination, the curious formation in all the Instruments of Sense; to which we may add the activity and subtlety of the Spirits, the delicate Contexture of the Nerves, the various Articulations of the Voice, the Harmony of Features, together with the proportion of Members in a humane Body, any one of which Considerations is sufficient to engross the Study of ones whole Life, and is many times the subject of a Volume. Many nice and subtle Questions are started by the Curious, concerning the Use and Frame of each particular Organ of the Body, as also how the Blood, Nutrition, and Sensation are made. No less inquisitive have they been about the first Principle of Life, which sets the Wheels of this curious Engine on Work; As first, Whether there be one or more Souls in Man conformable to the Animal and Rational Faculties: Also whether the Rational Soul be propagated in the same manner as that of other living Creatures: Or, whether it be immediately Created and Infused by God? For the better Understanding of which Questions, I shall first give my Sense and Notion of that which we call a Sensitive or Animal Soul, which I conceive to be nothing but an Ethereal Mass of Spirit, or Flame rarified, which the Almighty in the first Creation of Things, infused into every living Creature after its Kind, ordaining also a seminal Power in each of them, to propagate the same to new Offsprings successively. As soon as ever the Parts begin to be formed by Nature, this Animal and active Principle gins to exert its Heat and Force, being lodged in the Heart as in the Centre of the Body, from whence, as the Vessels begin also to be formed, it distributes itself towards the extreme Regions, communicating its Vital Heat by the Ministry of the Spirits; which Spirits also are nothing but Particles of that Original and Ethereal Flame, which is contracted and united in this Centre: The boiling Heat which flows from the union of so many Spirits, begets a Motion in the Heart, to which the Arteries being fastened, the same Pulse or Motion is communicated to them also; and lest the Spirits should be made too Volatile, the wise Framer of Nature hath ordered the Blood to be their Vehicle, being of a liquid and glutinous Substance, and so most fit both to retain and to distribute them together with its self into the remoter parts of the Body: all which is extremely facilitated by the continual Operation of the Lungs, whose Function 'tis by attracting fresh Supplies of cool Air to refrigerate the Heart, and to communicate thin and subtle Matter to make the Blood more florid and fluid: Now because the Blood by reason of the great Volatility of the Spirits which are mixed with it, is continually wasting; this Loss is repaired by Nutrition, or a fresh supply of new Spirits from the Aliment we take in, which after several percolations becomes Blood also, and is then conveyed to the Heart, and so into the Arteries, where it becomes the Vehicle of Life, and carries along with it new Spirits, by undergoing the same Circulations of Nature. Whosoever therefore shall duly weigh this Order, and consider the Fabric of each Part, will easily be able to give a rational Account of Nutrition, Respiration, Motion, Sensation, with all the other Faculties belonging to a Sensitive or Animal Body. Now because we observe in Man some Operations more refined, and such as cannot be derived from a mere Sensitive Nature, we are taught to conclude that there is another Principle into which such Operations are resolved, which we call a Rational Soul. Indeed, whosoever considers the curious Inventions of Wit, the vast Comprehension and subtle Inferences of the Understanding, the wonderful Sagacity and Prospect of Prudence, the noble Endowments and Speculations of the Mind, the quick Transitions and Successions of Thoughts, together with the Bent and Subserviency of the Passions, in relation to the Circumstances of humane Life: I say, whosoever thinks on these, must readily conclude that the Spring from whence such Motions are derived, must be something more Celestial than that Etherial Spirit which gives Vigour to the Animal Faculties. True it is, the Rational Soul, if I may speak it without a Solecism, is so incorporated into the Animal, that it seems to have its Birth and Growth with it. How doth Reason exert itself by little and little, what Helps and Arts are there used to make the Flower open and show itself to the World? What Struggle and Conflicts are there betwixt the Animal Inclinations, and the more masculine Dictates of Reason? A sure Demonstration that they cannot proceed from one and the same immediate Impulse of Nature. The Sense and Notions we have of Reputation, of Justice, of Commerce, of Patience, and Moderation, with infinite other things relating to the moral Capacity, have no analogy with the Actions and Sentiments of Beasts, though never so sagacious and well instructed; what then shall we say of the Intellectual Operations, and of the immense Capacity of the Mind? But do we not see that some Men who have rational Souls, and such as are reputed of as good Education as the best, how they act upon the same Principles of Sense and Bestiality with other Creatures. 'Tis not therefore from Nature, but from foreign and adventitious Helps, that others make a different and more refined discovery of themselves. 'Tis true, we find some Men acting at a very extravagant rate, not only by following the Propensities of Sense, but by transgressing even the Dictates of Nature in Beasts, by their Ingratitude and Infidelity towards those they are obliged to; nay, sometimes in killing themselves, either Gradually by Intemperance, or more compendiously by the help of a Sword, or of a neverfailing Halter. So far therefore is this Consideration from destroying my Assertion, that it doth exceedingly confirm it, since it establisheth that Liberty and Arbitrary Power of the Will, which is incommunicable with Beasts, and is one of the chiefest Prerogatives of a humane Soul. The grand Instruments by which the Understanding works, are Memory and Invention: Now, since these Faculties have their foundation in the sensitive Capacity, as this Prop is withdrawn, the Understanding must of Consequence be more clouded and obscure. Nay, though the rational Faculties in, or a little before the moment of Death seem totally extinguished, (because we are not sensible of any effects they make) neither yet is this any Argument of the Souls mortality: For when a man is profoundly asleep, or (what is almost as natural to some) profoundly drunk, their is a seeming extinction of all the rational Powers; and yet for all this we find that where Nature is once delivered from such oppressions, the Soul is the same in being as it was before. As therefore the Reasonable Soul is in Nature and Operation distinguished from, and transcendently superior to the Animal, so in the next place 'tis very probable that it has not its Original from the course of Nature, but from the immediate hand of God. This was a great question heretofore betwixt St. Augustine and St. Hierome; and was prosecuted by the later with so much heat, as made him seem to transgress the bounds of Christian Charity: But 'tis not my business in this Discourse to make use of Theological Arguments, or to interpose betwixt the Fathers in their Disputes; they are at rest, and let their works follow them: Thus much is obvious to our Observation; That in the Generation of Bruits, we find every Animal does beget its like, not only in specie or kind, but in disposition and inclination of Nature. Fight Cocks will beget a race like themselves, so will Dogs, Horses, etc. and so constant and regular is Nature in those productions, that it seldom or never varies; but in the Generation of Man we ofttimes experiment the contrary: simple men are frepuently the Fathers of great Hero's, and wise men may leave their Goods and Lands to their Sons without being able to Entail them upon the better part of their Possessions. Solomon had a Rehoboam, and an Achitophel may have an Idiot for his Son: From whence it follows that such different dispositions must proceed from some Principle, which lies not within the compass of Generation, and the ordinary course of Nature. 'Tis true; Education does many times change the course and stream of Nature: Nevertheless we observe, how vicious inclinations are so predominant in some, that no Example nor Precepts of Virtue, no hopes of Honour, no Culture of Art can ever reclaim them: But let the force of Education be what it will, in drawing men from their Natural inclinations towards Vice or Virtue, 'tis certain that men vary extremely from other Animals in the Propagation of their Race. It has been reported of a great Family in this Kingdom, that Father and Son have alternately been wise and weak, and this for several Generations; and which is something more remarkable also, those who passed under the character of being men of parts, had all of them one and the same Christian Name, as those of the contrary denomination happened all of them to have another. Now in this and many such like cases 'tis evident, that this difference of Nature could not proceed from Education, since all had the same means of Instruction and Breeding; nor yet from Generation, since all Animals produce others of the same Natural propensities with themselves: It remains therefore that it was derived from some other Principle, from whence all Moral and Intellectual acts proceed, and such as was superior to the Agents of Nature, which could be no other than the Rational Soul, formed by the hands of God, and infused into the living creature. Now these Imperfections are not intrinsic, but accidental to the Soul, nor do they argue its corruptibility or mortality, any more than the spots and clouds we see in some Diamonds, do prove them to be less durable than others which are more limpid and transparent. From these two Propositions, that there is a difference betwixt the Sensitive and Rational Soul, and that the latter is infused immediately by God, may be deduced a third, viz. that this Soul is immortal. The Immortality of the Soul cannot be inferred so fully from immediate Topics of Reason, as from divine Revelation, and from the consent and practice of civilised Nations. All people who were ever polished either by Literature or Morality, as they ever believed the Existence of the Soul after death, so was their practice conformable to this Belief. Those whom they looked upon as Hero's in their life, they invokt as Deities after death, allotting also Torments to the Wicked, as well as Joy and Rest to the Good. What therefore is thus built upon the Universal consent of Ages, and was confirmed by the Suffrages of all Mankind, I mean of all who had their Reason illuminated, must be looked upon to be founded in the Law of Nature, which being ordained by God, carries on it the stamp and characters of Eternal Truth. CHAP. II. Of Education in General. THE Pearl has this Prerogative above all other Jewels, that whereas they require form and lustre from Art, the Pearl only is perfected by Nature. It's colour, roundness, smoothness and bigness (in which consists its whole beauty) are all framed in its Mother's womb; but Man is a Jewel of another Nature; like the Diamond though he brings his perfection from the Bed, nevertheless 'tis rough and unpolished: much pains and Art must be used for the fashioning; and the more great and excellent the Stone, the more labour and diligence is required for the polishing, and indeed maugre all the Art and care of the Workman, some Diamonds can never have their flaws concealed or mended by the help of any foil whatever. Having already given some short account of man as to the parts of which he is compounded, I shall now consider him as an Infant brought into the World, exposed to dangers, and standing in need of others help and assistance. The Air and Climate in which men are born, has been ever looked upon as a thing which has a great influence upon their Genius, and the inclinations of their future lives. They who are penned up among high Hills where the Sun can hardly reach them, are generally simple, as in Savoy: So likewise are the Swissers of gross Intellectuals, but withal they are very faithful and valiant. The Florentines live in a Barren Country lying open to the Hills round about them, and are exposed to a sharp Air, for which reason they are reported to be more subtle and cunning than the rest of the Italians. The Scotch likewise, from the cold and barren Countries they inhabit, are more cunning far than the English, and upon even ground will overreach them. Whether Nurses may be used for the nourishing of Infants has been a great question; 'tis certain that the Milk which the Child draws from the Mother's Breast, and the blood with which it was nourished in the Womb differ only in colour, and therefore must be much more natural, and may be more easily converted into the substance of the Infant, than any foreign nourishment whatsoever, but because we have greater choice of Nurses than we have of Mothers; some Women, those especially who are more delicate and tender of their ease, recommend this important duty of Nature to some mean ordinary person, which certainly can never be approved of but in case of infirmity, Melancholy, or of some natural defect. we may observe of Beasts which are guided by the instinct of Nature, how solicitous they are to feed their Offspring, till such time as they can shift for themselves; And even Birds which are the most timid of all Creatures, will lament bitterly, and expose themselves to danger for the Preservation of their Young, which at other times will take wing upon the sight of a man; nay some will make resistance and assault any thing which comes near them, as Geese, Hens, and the like, which when they have nothing to care for but themselves, will upon any approach fly away. This shows what impression Nature has left upon the weakest Creatures to exert their utmost force for the Preservation of their young ones, which Nature has taught them to prefer before their own; but amongst Women this gentle and easy way of setting out their Children to Nurse as it is more unnatural, so is it a means of diminishing the Mother's love and affection for them, as experience tells us, and as manifest reason does evince; for why do Mothers love their Children more, tenderly and passionately than the Fathers, but because they endure greater pangs in their Birth, and greater troubles in the Education of them, which affection towards them is half destroyed by suffering strange Nurses to share with them in their Office. No woman knows the state and circumstances of another's body so well as of her own, nor can be assured of her being so careful as herself: some great Persons have direly suffered upon this account, as King Philip the Third of Spain, who was all his life-time of a very languishing and sickly temper, which he sucked from his Nurse who was too much French. 'Tis true Cyrus and Romulus the Founders of two great Monarchies, were both exposed in their Infancy, the one being said to be nourished by a Bitch, the other by a Wolf, that is, as I suppose, amongst Shepherds and Savage people, whom their natures and dispositions little differed from the wild Beasts amongst which they lived: or perhaps such Fables were invented only to make their Actions to seem more extraordinary and prodigious. Whatsoever there were in such reports, certain 'tis; that great regard is to be had both to the temper of the Mind, as well as to the state and condition of the body of her who gives the Breast; let her be of a cheerful humour and temperate as well as healthful, and abounding in Milk; but this more properly concerns the Mother, let us look a little to that which concerns the Father, and that is, the Breeding and Education of his Children, which is a great and weighty duty. Parents for the future good of their Children, would do well to place them forth as early as may be in a wholesome piercing Air, and by this means inure them to hardship by times. The old Germans were wont to plunge their Children into the Rhyne as soon as they were born, to bring their bodies to a stronger temper. Ladies we see of the most delicate Constitutions, by using to have their Breasts and Arms naked from their childhood, receive no injury by the weather be it never so cold, whereas the strongest man should he attempt to do the like, might be in danger of his life. Let a Child therefore be accustomed to course Diet, to thin Clothing, hard Lodging, and to much Toil; and when he arrives to Manhood, his Constitution will be much more vigorous; he will be more hardy to undertake, and more strong to conquer any difficulty. He will enjoy a more prosperous health of body, and by consequence will be able to pursue any work, wherein the Brains and Thoughts are engaged with great Alacrity, Constancy, and Courage: and indeed since the Occurrences of life do still cast a man upon the more painful side, 'tis best to make hardship to grow up with our Natures, by accustoming ourselves to it when our blood is Youthful, when we are free from distempers, and at such a season also when the least impressions grow into a habit, and many times become indelible. There is one great fault which Parents generally commit in the Education of their Children, viz. in labouring to bring them to habits of good Husbandry and Frugality, by cutting them short in their allowance: By this means many a young Gentleman is taught to keep mean Company; and gets such habits of shifting and shirking, as shall for ever render him contemptible: others there are of this Tribe who spend without measure, upon the prospect of their Father's death, so that when they come to their Estates, all they have will be too little to satisfy their Creditors; for such are ever sure to lend the young Squire freely, and make him indebted to them for twice as much as he borrowed, upon pretence forsooth that the old Gentleman may outlive the Son, and then all is desperate. 'Tis generally seen that none are so extravagant and profuse when they come to their Estates, as those who in their Father's life-time were kept shortest of Money. The more the Fire is penned in, the more violent will be the Eruption; but in all cases 'tis certain, that too great a restraint on Youth does make them wish their Parent's death, and does engender those ill humours in a Son as end commonly in Defiance and Rebellion. Upon the walls in the Court of the Jesuits College at Lions, where they have a great School, there are many ingenious Emblems painted in Fresco, of which this I remember to be one, an Eagle flying towards the Sun with her Young ones in her Talons, casting those away as spurious which would not endure the Light, with this Motto, à teneris luce imbuit. 'Tis easy to observe, but sad to consider what little care many Parents take in this particular; so they can but beget and keep their Children 'tis sufficient. They are many times very industrious in improving their Estates, and in cultivating their Lands; but for their Children they let them converse with the Poor ones of the Village, or with Ploughmen or Servants of their own Family, and by this means they get many times such habits, both of clownish speech and carriage; as also of rudeness and of an abject Mind, as no future Education though it were bestowed upon them, will ever be able to wear away. We see a strait Tree when it is young and tender, will easily be bowed aside, and grow so too beyond recovery if it be let alone a little; as also another which is young and crooked, may by little and little be in a great measure rectified, and by cutting away the superfluities may become fruitful. As for those who are to follow the Blow, or any Mechanic and Laborious course of life, (and such there must be) as their Means and Opportunities are small, so neither do their Circumstances require any thing more than to be instructed in the Principles of Religion and of Morality, and in the Duties of Obedience, and to be able to Write and Read: for there is nothing more ridiculous, then to have a Bumkin or Shopkeeper, pretend to State-matters or Divinity: Nor indeed is there any thing so dangerous to Church or State, as these half headed and conceited Fellows, who are generally most Impudent, Ignorant and Factious. The Education therefore which I here discourse of, is such as I would have in those who would be accounted Gentlemen, as having some Privileges both of Birth and Fortune, above the Common sort of Men, which Education of theirs may be reduced to these three general heads, viz. Erudition, Exercise, and Travel. Of Erudition. CHAP. III. ERudition extends itself not only to Literature, but to Precepts of Life, the former serves for the information of the Understanding, the later for the direction of the Will, and for regulating the Passions, to both which things all civilised Nations have ever had a special regard. The Chineses boast themselves to be the only civilised People upon the Earth, looking upon all other Nations as Barbarians, which considering the little or no advantage they have had by Commerce with other parts of the World may be in a great measure admitted. In this particular they are a reproach to the Europeans: for there is no Art nor Industry omitted by them, which may serve for the Information and Education of Youth: All Public places whether Civil or Military, are bestowed on such Persons only, as have undergone the Test and Appprobation of their Doctors, in which charge they are not perfunctory and superficial but severe. They have no Offices or Titles of Honour, but what Learning does procure them, and such Reverence and Veneration have they for their Preceptors, that in case a Scholar be advanced to a higher place of Trust and Dignity than his Master, yet he never sits with him cheek by jowl, but at a little distance behind, and on a lower seat, giving him the Style and Compellation of Master all his life after. 'Tis far otherwise in this our Native Country, so much civilised and polished as we pretend to be. There is nothing so despicable as the Name of a Pedant, a Fellow who can Teach a young Gentleman to scrape a Leg, or perhaps a Fiddle, for generally they go together, such a one I say shall have a better Reception and Salary than he who has the Institution of the Young Squire in the Methods of Learning, and in the Precepts of Life. Whether it be that we have really a less value for breeding then other Nations I know not, more probable 'tis that the mere ●●alifications of him who undertakes this Work begets contempt of the Person, which afterwards seldom fails to be Entailed upon the Office. However 'tis still our own faults, for were there sufficient Encouragement, and such Honour had for this grand Employment as really it deserves; Men of Birth, Learning and Education, and ennobled with the best Qualities, would easily be invited to undertake this duty, but 'tis far otherwise: Our Schoolmasters generally are descended of the Dregs of the People; they are such who being of wretched Education, do by a Collection among Friends, or by the Bounty perhaps of some young Gentleman, make a shift to creep to the University, where after four years' Drudgery for Meat and Drink, and living generally a scandalous and idle Life, they become Domini's, and must then shift anew for themselves. Some there are of this Poorer sort, who being men of Parts find means to make their Fortunes, and become afterwards brave Men; but generally they are such as I here describe: for being forced for want of Maintenance to run like Vagabonds seeking where to live, at length they Farm some Parsonage to halves, and patch up the rest by keeping of a School. Now because the meaner sort of People by whom they live, are commonly Fanatic … and Factious, these Teachers also being for the most part of the same Race, and that they may the better insinuate into the favours of those by whom they are maintained, do imbue their Children with the same Principles. Moreover being Persons, who have no sense of Breeding themselves, nor of the temper and springs of Youth, they commit infinite absurdities, either by dampning the Spirits of the more remiss by indiscreet Corrections, or at other times by their own licentious Examples procuring Contempt on themselves; by which means their Scholars as they grow in years and Understanding, begin to loath Reproof, which in a little progress of time renders Youth rude, obstinate and incorrigible: 'tis true, some few public Schools there are which being well endowed are honoured with Learned men, and send forth as hopeful Wits into the World, as are anywhere to be found: But this alas is but a very small Proportion to the whole Body of the Kingdom: so that I take the forementioned defects to be the cause why so many miscarry, and to be of great mischief to Church and State. The Jesuits certainly are well worthy our imitation in this particular: Nor is there any Art by which they create themselves a greater interest in the Countries where the live, than that by which they undertake the Education of Youth. They who are deputed for this Employment, are not of the meanest quality; they are usually Gentlemen, Men of mature years, and such who have been well versed, not only in Ancient Authors, but in the Practice and Conversation of men, and in the methods of business: Their way is, by familiarity and softness to insinuate into the Affections of the Scholar, and to draw him on to diligence rather by hopes, then to whip him forwards by Punishments and Fear: And yet where Negligence makes Correction a duty, they do it rather by inflicting some light disgrace, than by Corporal chastisement, a thing opprobrious to Nature, and which rather dulls than quickens the capacities of Youth. One thing they practise frequently which is really of wonderful use, and that is, their accustoming their Scholars to Act their Parts in Plays. This inures them to a Manlike speech, and to a steady Spirit and Address. I like Tragedy better than Comedy, where the Argument commonly is light, and is such as requires much of the Buffoon, whereas the former being great and Masculine, will be sure to leave a Tincture of something Noble upon the Mind of him who personates the Hero. Learning aught to be infused into the Scholar like spirits into a Bottle, by little and little, for whosoever attempts to pour in all at once, may in all likelihood spill a great part, and in a great measure fill the Vessel with Wind and Air. The Vessels 'tis true which have the straightest Necks will not so readily receive the Liquor, but then they will preserve what they once receive with much more certainty and lastingness of spirit. 'Tis so many times in the capacities of Youth: they who can receive any impression like the Virgin-wax, will as easily suffer a defacement unless it be hardened and matured by Time: whereas others who are hard to be wrought upon like Steel, retain the Images which are Engraven on them with much more beauty and perpetuity. As for the Method of Erudition in Literature, that seems to me to be most rational, which gins with those Sciences which are founded in Memory and Imagination, such as learning of Tongues, Grammar, and Poetry: For certain 'tis that Memory in Youth is infinitely more ready than in men of riper years, as appears from their different capacities in learning of a Language; and then for Invention which always builds out of the Storehouse of Memory, 'tis then most perfect and various when the Spirits are most airy, and in their greatest Circulation. Some are for Teaching young Scholars the Mathematics, upon pretence of fixing their Thoughts, and of keeping them constant to one Subject, for upon the least roving they lose sight presently of the demonstration, and must begin anew. But I like not this Method; for 'tis too tedious, serious and puzzling for young Capacities to struggle with: for though the progress be most natural and convincing, and the deductions of Theorems from one another, though they may ravish the Contemplative, yet it requires a man to have a complex Apprehension of many Propositions at once, so that the least start and wander of the Mind, disorder the whole clue and series of thoughts. As for Oratory, I think it not so proper for Youth, unless it be so far only as the Exercise thereof comprehends Repetition or Rehearsal: For by this we endeavour to persuade men, which we cannot do but by Topics taken from the consideration of humane Affairs, from the Examples of past Ages, and of Foreign Countries, to which must be added knowledge both of the Times and Persons we Converse with, and of the temper and inclination of their Passions, as also of the Nature of the Passions themselves, all which require much Reading, Judgement and Experience, and do suppose a man to be in some state of Maturity far above the Stations of Youth; Nevertheless the use of Declamations and Panegyrics, with such lesser Exercises as consist in Ornaments of Wit and Fancy, are not improper for them, as the performance and rehearsal of them begets boldness and a good address. History as it is pleasing and requires a good Memory, so it requires a mature Capacity to understand the scope and integrity of the Writer, to judge of all the the Circumstances of Things, Persons and Times, as also to fathom the depths of Counsels, and to discern the secret Resorts which set the Wheels on work. Logic serves for little but to assist men to reduce Reasoning into forms of Argument, and is therefore more proper for men fraught with Reason and of riper years. Natural Philosophy is easy, copious and delightful. Metaphysics serve only to subtilise the Wit and to fill the Brain with abstract Notions, and thus far also it may be useful too, for he who is able to raise mighty Speculations, and to distinguish of Universalities, Quiddities, Perseities, Entities of Reason, nonentity, that is to say, non-Sensities, and to talk profoundly of nothings, will be acute and quick sighted enough when something real shall occur: For which reason 'twas that the Lord Strafford, as I have heard, was wont always to read Suarez's Metaphysics, even then when he sat at the Helm of public Affairs; which he did for this end, as I suppose, that he might be furnished with distinctions, and that he might have his Reason always sharpened with Subtleties. But I omit the Prosecution of these, and such like Branches of Universal Learning, as falling under the Methods of our public Universities, where they flourish in Perfection. I come now to consider the other great Branch of Erudition, as it extends to precepts of Life and of Morality. This, though it be not so Ornamental, is much more useful than the former, by how much the Faculty of doing well, exceeds that of knowing well: The Devils are capable of the latter, but to understand all things, and to pursue the best, is proper only to Angelical and Divine Natures. The Turks make little account of Learning, but as to their Morals, 'tis a Reproach to us, that they far exceed Christians in the Virtues of Temperance, Obedience to Superiors, moderation of Passions, and fidelity to their Words. How rigorous and severe is the Institution of the Janissaries, and by what Industry and Methods are the Youths of the Seraglio (those especially of a more noble Genius) wrought upon and improved, till at length being advanced to Office, they find an open Field for Merit to raise itself, and by degrees arrive to places of the highest Trust and Honour. In this particular they much resemble the brave and ancient Spartans', who though they did not forbid the knowledge of Letters, yet they little esteemed them, in respect of those Duties and Precepts by which Life was to be governed, which were generally these: First, To reverence Old-Age. Secondly, Obedience to the Commands of their Superiors, especially in time of War. For endurance of Pain and Hardship, none were ever comparable to the Spartans', for their Youth would emulate one another in this particular, and he only was accounted Heroical who could suffer the sharpest Torments without change of Countenance. Their Diet and Apparel was course, and in their Behaviour they were most modest and submissive, insomuch that they would never look up in public, nor role their Eyes about, nor show the least sign of being transported, looking only upon what was before their Feet, and drawing up their Hands within the Pligs and Foldings of their Garments; and yet these were the bravest Soldiers the World ever had, accounting this to be the grand and indispensable Duty, to which they were all obliged, viz, in fight either to Conquer or to die. Virtue and Civility are the surest Badges of Valour. Ruffians and Bravoes may kill, but the most Victorious Nations, and the bravest Generals, were ever those whose Minds were polished, whose Arms received a Lustre from Virtue, and who could command their own Passions. Virtue has this Excellency, that it is able to gain the Commendation of its Enemies: They who condemn it in their Practice, are forced to applaud it in their Judgement. In matters of Morality the Will is easily cotrupted, but 'tis not so with Reason. Some perhaps out of a wantonness of Wit, or to excuse their Extravagance, may show themselves good at the Burlesque; but we shall never meet with any so impudent as seriously to attaque Virtue. Prudence, Justice, Temperance, and Fortitude▪ are four Fortresses in Morality, which no Obloquy can blow down, nor Subtlety undermine. Vice therefore can never make a Conquest of Virtue, though it may of Virtuous Persons, by tempting them from their Duty, under the false colours of Pleasure: But the Victory which Virtue gains is entire: It not only subdues the vicious Person, but the Vice too, by begetting an utter Horror and Detestation of it. A grave and seasonable Reproof doth many times prostrate the most profligated Person. Besides the Precepts of Philosophers, we have the Practice even of Brutes to instruct us in the Duties of Morality: For if we attentively consider it, there is scarce any Creature of this Denomination but is able to reprove and to direct us. And first for Temperance, We see how the Horse, the Ox, with all the rest of the Animal Tribe, are most regular in all the Functions of Nature, nor will any one of them be forced to drink more than what is sufficient to extinguish their Thirst, so that whilst they live by Sense, they act by Reason which says, that whatsoever exceeds the Exigence and Necessities of the Body, is but a Surcharge to Nature, and will turn to Surfeit and Disorder in the end. Nay that Creature which is looked upon generally as the vilest of all, as being the most ignominious Name we can give to any Man, I mean a Dog, will upon a just Consideration be found to be the greatest Emblem of Heroic Virtue, being eminent for these three noble Qualities, Fidelity, Gratitude, and Courage. There is no Allurement, Blandishment, or Sufferance whatsoever, which can make him desert his Master, no not Hunger itself, which is the greatest Pain this Creature can suffer, as being by Nature of an Appetite most craving and insatiable. He fawns and expresses all Joy upon the approach of his Master, he takes all Correction at his Hands with Patience and Submission, he will accompany him wheresoever he goes, he will defend him with the peril of his own Life, and will venture upon anything, though never so difficult and dangerous, when he is encouraged by one who can protect and reward him. Such than is the force and power of Nature, and such too as is sufficient to instruct those who are not under the Customs of a vicious Education. But for our better improvement in this most necessary and important Duty of Education, I shall consider this part of Erudition which concerns Life and Practice, as reducible to these two general Heads. First, Things Moral. Secondly, Things Civil; and this according to the two Notions we have of the double Capacity of Man: For every Man may be considered either absolutely, and in himself, and so he is a thing of an entire Nature and Perfection, and in this Capacity, he is the Subject of Moral Actions: Or Secondly, He may be considered Relatively, and as he stands in conjunction with others, where he is considered only as a part, and in this Capacity he is the Subject of civil Actions. Now both these Capacities, as they have their several Virtues, so are there several Methods by which the Mind of Man may be made perfect in them. I begin first with Moral Actions: And here it is no way to be doubted, but that he who would work an Alteration on the Mind of Man, ought well to be acquainted with the Bent and Genius of that Person he intends to d●●l with, as also of the Force and Nature of the Passions, together with the proper Motives to excite them; and this not only with relation to Men of riper Years, but of such more especially who are under the Methods of Instruction: Now the common Motives to Virtue, are such as these, viz. Reputation, Honour, Preferment, and consequently Riches, with such things as have an Influence upon Man, under the Notion of Reward: As on the contrary, Shame, Disgrace, loss of Interest or Office, danger of Estate or Life, all which being in the nature of Punishments, are of great force to dissuade us from Vice; to which also I may add Company, Exercise, Examples, and Studies, all which things also are of great Force to incline men's Minds to Good or Evil. But waving these and such like Topics as fit for Rhetoric, and such as would Swell this Chap. into a Volume, I shall only propose three practical Rules to such as have the Care and Institution of Youth; of which the first is this. Look what Vice a Man is naturally inclined to, endeavour to make him love the Vice which lies in the other Extreme: for there is no danger of his falling into it; but by drawing him to the contrary side, 'tis probable he may stay at the Golden Mean, like a crooked Stick which is made much more easy to stand straight, by being bend as much the other way. We may apply this Rule also to the amendment of many Defects of the Body; for I account a Person who is ill-shaped, Splay-footed, and of an untowardly Gate, to be the fittest Person living to learn to Dance; not because he is most apt for such an Exercise, for Nature intends nothing less, but because by putting a force upon Nature he will acquire some Habit of Carriage and Presence, which will make his Deformity appear less visible. Another Rule is this: If Custom and Nature has got such an Ascendent over the Mind, that it cannot be removed, the best Expedient is to join Issue with Nature, by pushing it forwards. Thus we see that Fevers are best Cured by raising the Distemper, and the most rational way to expel the purulent Humours of the Body, is to drain them forwards into one great Issue of corrupt and putrid Matter. We find that many intemperate Persons have been reformed into Sobriety, by the effects of one substantial and round Debauch: And if one who is of a Choleric Disposition, will not be persuaded by Reason to contain, it will not be the worst Method to help him forwards in his Extravagance, which in all likelihood may purchase him a good Beating, and this in all probability will make a greater Impression on him, than all the Reproofs of moral Philosophy, though never so forcibly inculcated; but if this Method prove unsuccesful, the last Remedy to which Prudence can have Recourse, is to make Vice shift itself a little into the Quarters of the next neighbouring Virtue; for so it is, that many Vices have some Virtues or Courses of Life, which are of the same Complexion under which they lurk and disguise themselves. Thus, if a Man be inclined to Cruelty, let him follow the Chase, if he be Choleric and Revengeful, let him follow the War: for though such Persons will never make Commanders, yet they are useful Tools enough in some Rencounters, where Men of richer Mettle are not to be thrown away. Thus also, if a Man be Talkative and Litigious, let him follow the Practice of the Law, for such a one will still find quarrelsome matter of other Folks, ready cut to his Hands, on which he may discharge his Heat, without being the Author of any new Combustions himself, besides that, his Eagerness and Heat will carry some show of Zeal for the Cause, and Interest of his Client. In like manner Prodigality, by having some Superfluities lopped off, may pass for Hospitality; so Ignorance and Cowardice will with little Alteration pass for Gravity and Sageness. I come now to speak of Man in his Civil Capacity, or as he stands in Relation to others; and here the Duties are many, such as those betwixt Parent and Children, Husband and Wife, Master and Servants, to which I may add Traffic, Negotiation, and the Obligations every Man hath in his particular Calling, with many other Duties which accompany an active Life. I shall only make a Cursory Remark upon one grand Duty, being that which every Man is obliged to, I mean the Love and Service which he owes to his Country, not as some factious Men pretend, who would appear its Patriots, on purpose to draw on the Ignorant Multitude to herd with them, under the Banner of Liberty, when in reality they design nothing but their own private and ambitious Ends, the Subversion of the Government, and consequently to reduce their Country to Confusion and Slavery. By the Duties therefore, which we own to our Country, I understand the Obligations we have upon us to live in Obedience to its Laws and Government, and to Sacrifice all our private Fortunes for the Preservation of the same; for since the common Good is nothing but the Union or Combination of so many particular men's Concerns, the Universal cannot be destroyed, but the Parts of which it is Compounded, must share also in the Ruin. The Hand and the Foot may think the Stomach to be an Idle and Unprofitable Portion of the Body, and yet if they refuse to feed it, the Damage will fall upon themselves: For this Stomach which seems to devour all, and to do nothing itself, if it be deprived of Nourishment, all the rest of the Members will soon languish with it and die: For let Men look upon Princes, as Persons living in Idleness and Luxury, yet in the Body Politic, they are the Stomach which doth Digest all, and distribute that Chyle of which the purest Blood is made, and by which all the Members are kept alive. There is also a Love and Duty which a Man owes to his Country in general, in respect whereof every Man's private Life is no way to be regarded; we have Instances of this amongst the Worthies of old, such as Curtius and the Decii: But more remarkable was that known Example of Themistocles, who being banished by the Athenians, fled to the Persian Court for Relief and Shelter. The King raising an Army against the Grecians, appoints Themistocles to be General, which he knowing not well how to Avoid, or how to Accept of, he desired Leave to Consult upon it by a Sacrifice: A Bull was Slain, of whose Blood Themistocles drinking a hearty Draught, died himself a Victim at the Altar, and by this means ended the Conflict betwixt the Duties which he owed to his Ungrateful Country, and to his Merciful Protector. The Importance of that Duty which every individual Person owes to his Prince and Country, ought well to be considered by those who have the Institution of Youth, for as much as that is the Age of Ductility, and that the Impressions are then easily made, and will be lasting too, as growing daily up with Nature. CHAP. IU. Of Exercise. HAving spoken in the foregoing Chapter of the Improvements of the Mind by Erudition, it follows of Course that we speak of the Improvement of the Body by Exercise. Indeed a Vigorous and Athletic Habit of Body, doth extremely advance the like Disposition and Ability in the Mind; Since all Intellectual Exercise and Travel of Brain depend much upon the Activity of the Spirits, and these upon the good Temper and Strength of the Constitution. Upon this account it was, that Solon the Athenian Lawgiver, and the wisest Man in his Age, ordained that the Grecian Youth should be trained up to Wrestling and Music, the one for the strengthening of their Bodies, the other for the Polishing of their Minds. Strength, if it be not softened, is Savage and Brutal, but where 'tis joined with Courtesy 'tis Ravishing. Sports and Exercises serve not only to Recreate those who are the Actors, but those also who are the Spectators of them. The Greeks had solemn Times set apart for those more Manlike Exercises represented in the Olympic Games, besides their daily Divertisements of the Theatre. The like also had the Romans; that of the Gladiators was something too Inhuman, the other Performances of the Circus were much more Innocent, Diverting and Healthful, and even the more Indigent Sort were so wedded to these Shows, that they were contented only to live upon Bread and Water, so they might but be admitted sometimes to be Spectators at them, duas tantum res anxius optat, Panem & Circenses. But above all, their Triumphs were stately Things, and were designed not only to divert, but to encourage Men to brave Atchivements of Honour. In the best constituted Governments it has been always looked upon as a piece of Policy, to indulge the People in such Recreations, as well because they render Men quick in their Motions and Bold to Attempt, as also because they extremely conduce to alleviate the Cares and Burdens of the Mind, and to divert the Thoughts from seriously Reflecting upon the heavy Weight which is oftentimes cast upon them by the Exigences of the State. For which Reason we may observe that where the People are most oppressed with Gabells and Impositions as in Italy, there they enjoy the greatest Liberty in their Recreations, which are generally Races, Plays, Operas, Feats of Agility, the Fooleries of Ciarlatans', Sports of the Carneval, Cavalcades, Academies of Music, to which I may also add Ecclesiastic Ceremonies and Divertisements, such as Processions, the Feasts of particular Saints, as also the Canonization of Saints and Martyrs, with many other Shows both of Pomp and Activity, by all which they endeavour as much as possible, to sweeten the sourness and tediousness of Life. As to the Exercises of the Bodies, in relation to particular Men, some are of great Use for Man's Preservation, as Running, Vaulting, Fencing and Wrestling: But withal they are sometimes Incommodious to Health, because they call upon a Man to exert his utmost Strength, which weakens Nature, insomuch that those who were best at the Performance in their youthful Days, feel the Smart in their declining Years, and are much weaker than other Men of the same Age: Besides, such Exercises are many times dangerous to Life, especially when Man and Man cope together. There are other Exercises which are less useful for a man's preservation, but withal they contribute to health, by exciting the Spirits to a quick Circulation, and are looked upon also as parts of Accomplishment, such as Dancing, Tennis, and Riding the great Horse; Justs and Tournaments were things of great Bravery; but they are now antiquated, and Masques are for the Entertainments only of Ladies. Bowling end Shooting in the Longbow are less violent and more safe, because they excite a moderate warmth, and are not apt to betray men to the dangers which follow excessive heats. But above all the Chase has been ever looked upon as a Noble and Manlike Divertisement, it recreates and pleases the Fancy whilst the Body is in Exercise: 'tis lasting and sociable, and withal it inures the Body to hardship without too much fatigue or hazard, and never fails to procure a good Appetite which is the best friend to life. These are the chiefest Exercises of the Body by which man's Nature may be rendered more perfect. As for Music it may more properly be reckoned amongst the Recreations of the Mind, if it be not the sole Recreation of that most Excellent and Noble faculty, when the Passions are languishing and almost spent, this is able to animate and Exalt them, and at other times when they are too exorbitant and impetuous, it is able to create a Calm, and to reduce the Soul to its due Temper and Serenity. 'Tis strange what is reported amongst the Ancients of its wonderful power and force. 'Tis well known they had their several Moods and Measures, which were able to produce very different and strange effects in men. When the Trumpet sounds we see not only Men but even Beasts are animated with a generous and Martial fire, and upon this Consideration doubtless 'twas that the Lacedæmonians (who were the bravest men of Greece) though they were most severe & rigied in their Manners of Life, took special care to have their Children Educated in Music, not that soft and puling Music which consists in Passionate and Effeminate expressions, in Affected sighs and melting Notes, and in a languishing and dying posture of body, but their Music was Manlike and sprightly, and such as served to excite the Mind to generous and brave Attempts. The Composition for the Matter consisted generally of two Parts: The first was Panegyric, being a Commemoration of those who died for their Country; the other was Invective, being in Dispraise of those who were Cowards and degenerate, all which they did express plainly without any invention or ornament of Wit. Now as Music served to raise their thoughts to noble Actions, so they looked upon it also as very useful to sweeten the Toils and Labours of Life: upon which account the Arcadians who were Shepherds and inhabited a barren Country, being by their course of life, obliged to expose themselves to all the hardships and inconstancy of Wether, had recourse to their Pipes, as the only Remedy against the inconveniences to which Nature had laid them open; taking care that not only their Children, but their Young men also should be Exercised therein even to the Thirtieth Year of their Age. Nor were the Poets ignorant of the force of Music, when they feigned Orpheus drawing Trees and Beasts after him, and Amphion Stones to build the Wall of Thebes: thereby signifying that it was capable to civilize the most Savage Natures, and to Establish Cities and Governments. Then for the Philosophers, let Socrates serve as an instance, who when he was well advanced in years, thought it no diminution to his Gravity, to spend an hour or two every day with Conus the Musician in Learning to Sing to an Instrument, though 'tis not improbable that he did it also, to soften the noise of a louder Instrument, and which was far more difficult to be tuned, his Wife. This is certain, that when a man is oppressed with care and anxiety, and is under any disturbance of Spirit, there is nothing in the World does so much revive him as Music, witness Saul, who is said in Scripture to have been haunted by an Evil Spirit, which was no more but this; Saul finding his Government uneasy, and that things did not succeed and prosper according to his wishes, fell into Melancholy which (as 'tis obvious to all the World) does often times betray men to very extravagant fits of Jealousy and Fury, which Evil Spirit of Saul's could not be conjured by any other Art but of David's Harp. Some have endeavoured to represent Music more powerful and persuasive than Rhetoric itself, from the Fiction of vigilant Argus, who could not otherways be overcome but by the charms of a Pipe. There are some things notwithstanding in the Practice of Music, which seem much to derogate from its Worth and Virtue: As first, that it is Mercenary, and that it is usually prostituted in Taverns and Bawdy-houses, and serves frequently to usher in the meanest Shows. It is frequently pretended to by the meanest Artisans, and taken up as a livelihood by Vagabonds, and such as are most ignorant and indigent. In the next place, many of those who pretend to be Masters of it, are commonly of a morose and untunable Nature themselves, capricious and fantastical: Besides, there is no person so simple and ridiculous but will pretend to be a Judge of Music, and will censure the performance. But all this while these are not the faults of the Art but of the Professors of it, and by the same Reason Poetry might be condemned, because it is profaned by every Doggerel and Rhyming Ballad-maker; and Painting too, because it is pretended to by every Dauber of a Signpost. Though it be an Accomplishment in a Gentleman to be well skilled at an Instrument or Voice, and though he may make use of both for his own divertisement, yet he ought to practise but rarely in Company, unless there be others of his own degree to bear a Part, for it comes too near Fiddling to strike up at another's pleasure, and to do it of ones own accord, unless it be amongst familiar Friends, is affectation and fantastical: But above all, Princes and great Persons ought to be careful not to spend much Time this way. Nero was an Excellent Master, but by playing Publicly, was played upon by others. Much more discreet was the Emperor Alexander Severus who Painted admirably, and Sang to Perfection, yet never entertained himself in Practices of this kind, but when he was in private only, and amongst his Pages. Of all sorts of Music that is most graceful and diverting, where the Gests of the Body correspond to the Nature of the Air, and both to the Ditty and Argument, which I call Acting Music: For Singing is nothing but a more Harmonious way of speaking, which when it is performed without too much breaking of the Voice, so that the Articulation of the words be not lost, and being accompanied with a suitable and decent motion, it is most Charming, and this we rarely meet with but in Operas, than which no shows under Heaven can be more Magnificent and pleasing to the Senses. To conclude, 'tis enough for a Gentleman if he perform his Part Alla Cavalaresca, looking upon Music as a Remedy against oppression of the Spirits, either by too much business, or by too little, which ever tends to solitude and Melancholy. Moreover Music is a Preservative against the Anger and fierceness of Nature, 'tis sociable and exceeding helpful to Devotion; upon all which accounts it must be esteemed worthy a man's Study and Practice, and aught to be looked upon also as part of an Ingenuous Education. CHAP. V Of Travel. THE Benefits which arrive to men by Travel are many; and first in respect of Communities or of a Nation in General. By this men are taught to know the way to Foreign Countries, to understand their Productions and Arts, and to Exchange their own Commodities, all which cannot but excite to Ingenuity and Industry, and purchase Riches. By this we are taught to know the Strength and Interest of Foreign Princes, their Arts of Peace and War, with whatsoever concerns Civil Negotiations. By this the most remote Parts of the habitable World are linked in bonds of Alliance, and by this we understand the Transactions of both the Indies, as well as of our Neighbour Nations. But to pass by these Considerations, I shall only Discourse of Travel in relation to Individuals, and in relation to the benefit which every particular Person may reap unto himself, and first in respect of Health: for a man by accustoming himself to different Climates and Seasons, to different sorts of Lodging and Diet, to rise early and to have his Body in a constant Exercise; I say, by such like Methods as these (which are the ordinary Companions of Travellers,) he cannot but acquire a Robust Constitution, patiented of fatigue, and fit for duties whether of Business or War, provided a man live temperately, for otherwise he will miscarry in a State of the greatest repose and ease, nay such a state is most apt to betray men to Excess and Surfeit. But the Benefits which arrive from Travel are yet more considerable in respect of the Mind, especially if the Person be under the Conduct of one who knows to introduce him into good Society: here by little and little he will be taught to wear off that Clownish Habit, to which a homebred Education does usually expose him: Those who are too sheepish and bashful, will by a daily practice with new Persons, and those of different circumstances of life, acquire a good Address and Presence. As for my young Master, the Hopes and Heir of the Family, he is commonly such a one, who knows no othér saces but those of his Father's Tenants, by whom he is Squired up and flattered, and where like a little Tyrant he swaggers without control; but how soon will this poor Bubble be evaporated and blown away, when 'tis once exposed to the open Air? His impudence and impertinence serve only to make him Ridiculous and Scorned, or perhaps Corrected, till by farther progress, and often reprehensions, as well from his own Reason as others Examples, he finds his Error, and by little and little also finds that if he will be acceptable, he must be Affable and Courteous. In a word, Travel teaches a Man to be able to suit himself with Persons of all Conditions, to understand the Laws of Civility, and what to give as well as what to challenge. And the views of Foreign Courts, Embassies, Habits and Ceremonies though never so transient, cannot choose but leave some traces upon his Mind, which will grow up with Nature and render him perfect and acceptable. Then for those Gentiler Exercises, as of Music, Arms, Dancing, Riding the great Horse, the Discipline of the Camp, Fortification, besides Languages, Modes, with all the Airs and Ceremonies of Gallantry, all these I say are learned abroad with infinite more ease and less Expense than in a man's own Country. As for Towns, fine Houses, Gardens, Inventions of Art, Antiquities, shows, with all the Ornaments and various Productions of Countries, as also the several Occurrences of a man's own or of another's life, they are things which serve chief for Discourse and Entertainment, and as a man will learn them infinitely better, and in a greater Measure from his own Observation, than from the reports of others; so what he sees with his own Eyes will make a more durable impression than what he hears from others; and as they will procure a more favourable attention, so may he with better Confidence and Grace relate them too; for besides that one man does observe what another does not, so cannot a man be so secure of the impartiality and diligence of another, as he is of what's presented to his own Senses. But it will be objected, That as there may be much Good learned abroad, so may a man learn much Evil, and Youth being naturally more prone to Liberty and Vice than to Virtue, the probability of being debauched is greater than that of being instructed: We find this to be many times true, I confess, by too sad Experience; but all this while have we not Courtesans and Diseases at home, have we not our fantastical homebred Fops, whose Heads are of as light a sraight as those which come from beyond Sea loaden with Feathers? and have we not as many Gaming-houses, certainly more tippling-houses which are the Nurseries of Idleness and Sottishness, and the ruin of Health, Reputation and Estate? Drunkenness is scandalous in all parts of the World except Germany, Holland, and the Northern Countries, to which few Gentlemen repair for Breeding: and perhaps I shall not exceed, if I affirm that this single vice of intemperance, to which we are so habitually addicted, is as mischievous to man as all the Debaucheries of other Countries put together. 'Tis no Disparagement, but rather a Commendation of the fertility of the Ground, that it produces Poisonous Plants as well as Medicinal: if a man instead of smelling to the Rose will put his Nose to the Prickle, he must blame his own foolish choice, not Nature. Those who are of Virtuous dispositions will reap much more benefit abroad than at home; others who are Vicious are many times reclaimed by Example, and if some few miscarry, their loss is not so considerable as the benefit which accrues to others. Whosoever will Travel to purpose, aught to Travel twice; first in his Youth, for than is he most capable of learning Languages, and of improving himself by Exercise: afterwards in his maturer years, when youthful heats are spent, and all the Crudities of Nature digested, so that his Judgement being then strong and vegete, he is able to distinguish betwixt Good and Evil, to understand men, and to correct former omissions. In this particular private Persons are happier than Princes, who living in Emulation cannot enter into one another's Countries without leave, and perhaps danger; besides the greatness of their Quality carries too great a Train and Embarrass with it, and the Punctilios of Ceremony on which they stand, will not only make their Voyage very troublesome, but will occasion sometimes great jealousies and disgusts. Nevertheless we may observe that such of them as have Travelled, have proved also the greatest Hero's of their Age; and such were Gustavus Adolphus, Solyman the Manificent, and Charles the Fifth, who made nine Expeditions into Germany, six into Spain, seven into Italy, four into France, ten into the Low-Countries, two into England, as many into Africa, besides eleven Sea-voyages. 'Tis true; he did not this as a Traveller, but sometimes as a Soldier attended with his Army, and sometimes in pursuance of his Civil Affairs, which led him into distant Countries which were under his Dominion: Nevertheless 'tis not to be doubted, but that he gained great Experience thereby, and though his Son Philip were a Politic and wise Prince, yet being of a Sedentary and Thinking Nature, and consequently managing all things by Lieutenants, he was less Prosperous, which cost him no less than the Revolt of the Low-Countries, one of the fairest Jewels in the Spanish Crown. There are two sorts of Persons equally absurd in the Judgement they make of Travel: The first are those who cry up nothing but what is Foreign, French Servants, French Manufactures, French Artificers, French Phrases, French Games, and perhaps French Diseases. Others think they cannot show themselves true English but by crying up their own Country as the Paradise of the World, and by disparaging all others, and these for the most part understand little beyond a Pack of Dogs, a good piece of Beef, a Pipe of Tobacco, and a Barrel of Ale. But he who designs his own improvement will judge impartially of what is good both at home and abroad, and accordingly will make his choice, he will not be lavish in commending the one, nor in undervaluing of the other. 'Twas generously and prudently done of Queen Elizabeth, who gave order for choosing yearly out of both the Universities several young Students, such as were of hopeful Parts, and destitute of Fortune, whom she maintained abroad out of the Revenues of the Exchequer, and took care also to dispose of them after their return in such Offices and Employments of Trust, as might make them able to display their Gifts, and to open a passage to greater Fortunes: For though all could not be provided for, yet as in a Race where one obtains the Price, all notwithstanding would set forwards with speed, and by the course of Merit endeavour to be capable of obtaining Honour. CHAP. VI Of Health. HAving in the pecedent Discourse taken a survey of Man, as well in his first Production, as in his Growth and Education, it follows of course that we consider him now in a state of Maturity, and as under a twofold perfection of Body and Mind: And first for the Perfection of his Body, it consists in these three things, Health, Strength and Beauty. Health is not only in itself one of the greatest Blessings of Life, but 'tis such a one too as gives life and sense to all other Endearments whatsoever. We are least sensible of this Blessing whilst we enjoy it, for such is the depraved gust we have of things, that we understand their value more by the want than by the possession of them. The Voluptuous man whilst he is in the height of frolic and delight, whilst Nature is vigorous in all its functions, and his blood runs peaceably through every Vein, never thinks of what he enjoys: He never considers how easy 'tis for him to forfeit his Felicity by the least start of Intemperance, and how difficult 'tis for him to recover it again; no, he thirsts after untasted pleasures, and is still launching forwards, and spreading wide his Arms to embrace fresh Contents, till at length his imaginary happiness betrays him to real Misery. One who melts under the burn of a Fever, or of (what's more scorching and dangerous) the distempered flames of Love, finds little comfort in Treats and Visits, in rich , Furniture and Attendance, nor in the more innocent Sports and Recreations of the Field. All those Objects with which he formerly entertained himself, do but help to aggravate his Misery by informing him how short and empty they were in comparison of health, or if he has any remaining inclinations for them, 'twill be a Torment to him to find them present to his imagination, and he himself to be out of the reach of enjoying them: such a one would readily exchange conditions with the meanest Peasant, who lives by the sweat of his Brows, to whom Labour gives not only Appetite, but the sweetest repose and rest, both which are the Essential parts of Health. But passing by these Moral reflections, if we consider Health in that Natural relation it has to man in his flourishing Age, we shall find it to be determined in a regular observance of these following Circumstances, viz. Air, Exercise, Evacuation, Repletion, Sleep, etc. to all which whosoever lives with due regard, cannot but enjoy one of the greatest Gifts in Nature. They who are blest with great Health of Body, are not always men of the longest life; for presuming upon the strength of Nature, they run into many disorders and excesses, whereas others of a more delicate Constitution standing always upon their Guard, avoid the occasions of Irregularity and Intemperance. Nevertheless the rule is good, that men should by little and little accustom themselves to small irregularities, such as eating at all hours, and of Meats less curiously prepared: also exposing one's self to all sorts of Wether, to hard Lodging, Watchfulness, thin Clothing, with many other inequalities to which men of business are obnoxious: for he who lives by Weight and Measure, when Action calls him forth of Doors is presently overtaken with disorder; every storm of Rain, or an hours Riding in the Night, is able to make him send for the Physician, who will be sure to purge his Purse as well as his Body. It has been observed that men have always been most healthful where there have been fewest Physicians: whether it be that the healthfulness of the Country be a discouragement to their Practice, or that the want of them be the cause of Health I shall not determine. Certain 'tis, that they are not to be recoursed to but in cases of Extremity, since the Medicines by which Nature is assisted, are for the most part compounded of many Ingredients of different qualities, so that any ignorance of their Virtues, any defect in the mixture, or any Error in the Application, is able to put Nature into great disorder. Or let the Application be never so exact and rational, yet there will remain some dregs of Heterogeneous parts, which will still he lurking in the Body, and will be ever and anon breaking forth into new Fermentations. But then the case is much more dangerous, when we consider the uncertainties upon which this Art is founded, viz. our ignorance of the Frame and Fabric of the Body, as also the Functions of each Organ in relation to Nutrition, Sense and Life, together with our ignorance of the Age, Temperament, Course of life, and Circumstances of every individual person. And the difficulty will still increase, when we call to Mind the alterations and percolations which Medicines undergo in the Body, as also the Obstructions they will meet with before they can arrive to the part affected, to which we may add also our great ignorance of the Nature of most Diseases, of their Causes, Progress and Effects: all therefore which Physic can pretend to, is at the best, but Conjectural or Empirical; but when the whole Management of Health and Life, falls into the hands of some ignorant Undertaker, (and such they are generally who pretend to this Faculty) what real dangers must then attend the miserable and diseased party? The Art therefore of preserving Health is much more to be valued than that of restoring it; besides, 'tis more easy and secure, as being in every man's peculiar Power. CHAP. VII. Of Strength. STrength is another Perfection belonging to Man's Body, which though it be not of such Importance as the former, is of great account nevertheless, being one of those Excellencies with which Angelical Natures are Endued, they being above all Creatures eminent for Activity and Power. There is a twofold Strength; the first Military: This consists in Men, Money, Discipline, Conduct and Counsel, for by these Means Empire is both acquired and enlarged; but Strength of Government goes further, for though Conquests may be made by Force, yet they will never settle into Empire, but by a free Commerce, sound Counsels, and a faithful Administration of Justice, with many other things relating to Civil Oeconomy. There is also another Strength of the Body Natural, which consists in a healthful Constitution, and a strong and compact Formation of Muscles, Bones, and Sinews: That which consists in brawny Members, and in a bulky Mass of Body, is less to be accounted of, as being natural to the base sort, such as Labourers, Porters, and generally to all Men of Drudgery. Passive Strength, or to be able to undergo Fatigue, is that, to which Persons, even of the best Character, aught to be accustomed: But the active Strength, which consists in Nimbleness and Vigour, is most Ornamental, and was in greatest Reputation amongst the Greeks, as appears from their Institution of the Olympic Games, where Youths of the best Quality and Extraction, did usually contend with one another, and strive for Victory. As for the Romans, they had such Exercises in less Esteem: For wrestlings and Combats, whether betwixt Men and Men, or betwixt Men and Beasts, were the Employments only of Slaves, or of condemned Persons, or of such as were Mercenary; so that all the Use they made of them, was only to entertain the Spectators with Pastime and Divertisement; and even at this Day, those who are most eminent in this Kind, are generally Infamous, such as Rope-Dancers, Tumblers, common Wrestlers, Sword-Players, etc. And yet it is commendable in a Gentleman, or any Person of civil Quality, to be able to Run, Wrestle, Vault, and to use his Weapon with Strength and Address; nay such Abilities may sometimes be of great Benefit and Advantage: But for such a one to make show of them, or to set a Value upon himself for these Performances, is Vain and Ridiculous, as the frequent use of them is many times Dangerous and a shortner of Man's Life: For we may frequently observe that those who in their Youthful Days were most Lusty and Active, are more Broken and Decrepit in their old Age than other Men, by reason of the many Blows, Bruises, and Surfeits, which usually attend such Violent Exercises. Strength therefore is an excellent Gift of Nature, if it be rightly managed, and besides the Succours it gives a Man in many Rencounters of his Life, 'tis a Badge also of Royalty, when 'tis Accompanied with Courage, upon which account the Eagle amongst Birds, and the Lion amongst Beasts, challenge the Sovereignty. I doubt not but that in the first Herdings of Mankind into Troops and Companies, he who was the Strongest and Stoutest Fellow amongst them, obtained the Rule over all the rest; Men being naturally taught to submit to him, who was most able to Hurt and to Protect them, which thing also we see even at this Day amongst the Indians. 'Tis true, this Method was not of any long Continuance, for there being infinite Numbers of Men, who were all equally Confident of their own Strength of Body, they thought they had as good a right to Rule as others, from whence arose perpetual Fightings, Robberies, and Murders, not only betwixt Company and Company, but amongst those also who were of the same Gang; all which tending to the Ruin of Mankind, and to the utter Subversion of Society, Men at last were forced for their own Preservation, and by common Consent, to circumscribe Power by such Laws as had the greatest Regard to the common Good, and were to be of greater Validity, and of a longer Continuance than Might. CHAP. VIII. Of Beauty. THE last Perfection belonging to the Body is Beauty, whose Conquests are more Universal than those of Strength, for what this cannot Subdue by Force, the other doth Win by Surrender. Beauty, if it be not accompanied with other Virtues, is but like a fair Sign to an ill Inn, it may invite Strangers to enter in, but as soon as they find the bad Entertainment and the ill Furniture of the Place, they will quickly quit so ill an Habitation: And yet we find that this is the Goddess which most adore, as did the Trojan Youth of old, who preferred her before Wisdom and Honour. All the Words and Actions of a handsome Woman, seem to have a Charm; all Men admire such a person upon the first Sight, and as they have Opportunities of Approach, they will not fail to Cajole her by Flatteries, and to Commend her Wit in the most Luscious and Insinuating Expressions they can Invent. But when once the Flower gins to whither, and Beauty to Decay, then is it that she seems to be degraded beneath the Qualifications of others. Her mimical and wanton Gests, her affected Lisping, her pretty Repartees and modish Words, her turn up of the Corners of the Lips, and the wind of the Neck, not forgetting the languishing, or rather, the half opening Eyes, together with her Stories of Fashions, of Romances, of Amours, and of the Court, will then look most wretchedly Bald and Antique, and when such Persons by a long Habit, shall become unable or unwilling to leave this artificial Beauty, they must of necessity be exposed also to Laughter and Contempt. Beauty of Body doth consist of three Parts; Complexion, Feature, and Shape, and lastly, a graceful Motion or Address. Complexion or colour of Skin is of little Value, it being easy to be lost, and as easy to be counterfeited: It may be bought in the Shops for six Pence, and may be sold again face and all for as little, saving that the Purchaser many times pays a dearer price for what is given him in the Bargain. Shape and Feature are nobler parts of Beauty, which cannot be counterfeited by Art, and are therefore Real, nor can they be defaced but by old Age, and are therefore Solid. But above all, a graceful Presence and Address is the absolute Consummation of Beauty, as resulting from many excellent Qualities of the Mind, such as Courage, Bounty, Affability, Modesty, and willingness to Oblige, all which Concentring in the Mind, and being lodged in a Body generously Born, and of excellent Shape, create a Harmony, and by some secret Emanations send forth their Rays, and give a Lustre through all parts of the Body. This indeed is a piece of Beauty which is really magnetic, which charms Men, and is also durable and Heroic: It is a piece of Beauty which the Pencils of the best Artists can rarely Express. A Vivacity and Serenity of Looks, the Airs of Motion, together with the sweet Articulations and Cadencies of the Voice, are the three Perfections under which true Beauty is defined, such as are really difficult (if not impossible) to be shadowed out by Colours, and must be acknowledged therefore to have a Resemblance with something that is Celestial and Divine. 'Tis true, this sort of Beauty is in some measure Artificial, as being acquired very much by Breeding and Imitation; but for all this, we see that some Persons are so fashioned by Birth, that whatsoever they say or do carries with it such a Native Grace and Elegance, as gains Applause with all Men. They speak with their Eyes, and being silent persuade. This Beauty therefore of Presence and Motion, has much the Advantage above the Airs of Feature and Complexion; for we shall rarely see many Persons to agree in the same Opinion of a handsome Face, one dislikes the Nose, another the Lips, a third the Eyes, and so on, so that Feature and Complexion are only relative Perfections, and are only deemed Beautiful, so far as they bear a Conformity to the Fancy: Now the Fancies of Men being always different and Irregular, there must be the same Inequality in the things they Measure; whereas the Beauty of Behaviour and Address, is Amiable to all, it Reconciles every thing it meets with to its self, which shows that it reaches further than the Imagination, and penetrates to the Soul, which is a Principle far more permanent and solid. Upon this Account also 'tis, that even Deformity of Body, where it is not accompanied with Obliquity of Manners, becomes less Offensive, the more we are acquainted with it; and Beauty of Body, destitute of Wit and good Humour, the more we Converse with it, the less it becomes Acceptable: for the Mind of Man, into which all things enter leisurely and by degrees, being of a Spiritual, Subtle, and Discerning Nature, cannot take up its Repose with any thing but what is suitable to its self. This Correspondence therefore of Mind meeting in some common Inclinations of Nature, is that which makes an intimate and lasting Union betwixt Persons, and creates Harmony and Beauty. Persons who are less Beautiful, amongst the many Arts they have to set off themselves, think it not the least to have recourse to Deformity itself, as to a Foil, which will render an ordinary Face acceptable. Beauty of Body, as it is relative, and bears respect for the most part, to the Opinion of the Beholder, so also is it but a Comparative Excellence: For Janus-like, it hath two Faces, with one of which it looks towards something worse than itself, in respect whereof it may be denominated Beauty; with the other Face it looks towards something which is above it, which is more curiously fashioned, or as they say, more divinely made, in respect whereof 'twill pass only for a thing common and indifferent; so that of two Persons standing together, if one of them be more Beautiful and Brillant, the other will seem more Vulgar and Inconsiderable, like as in the Arms of a Balance, where the raising of one must be by the depression of the other: 'Tis prudently done therefore of those in whom the Gifts of Nature are less Orient, to have their Blacks always at their Elbow. And yet for all this, Deformity many times is even with Beauty: For where the former cannot advance itself to the Esteem and Reputation of the latter, it will endeavour notwithstanding, to pull it down to its own Pitch and Level, I mean by Desamation, for it is quicksighted enough either to spy Blemishes of another kind, or Malicious enough to invent them; and this holds good not only in Competition about natural Endowments, but also where one Person has the advantage above another, either in Civil Employments, or in the Favours of Fortune. Upon this account also 'tis observed by the Learned Lord Verulam, that deformed Persons are generally bold and witty: Bold in their own Defence, as being exposed to Scorn, from which they will seek to free themselves, either by Virtue or Malice, both which require some degrees of Wit in the Management. 'Twould be good therefore for Persons who are obnoxious this way, to begin first to Jeer themselves, and Droll upon their own Defects, which would be a good Disappointment to another's Design of doing the same: For there can no Wit be shown in saying the same thing over again, especially when I must be obliged for it, to the Fancy of him whom I intent to play upon. In fine, the best Remedy for one who is adorned with the Gifts of Nature, not to be envied, is not to despise another who is deformed; for as Envy is natural to the latter, so Pride oftentimes accompanies the former. Youth, Strength, and Beauty, are proper to Angelical Natures, for as much as the Excellencies of these glorious Creatures are usually painted and represented to our grosser Capacities, under the appearances of such material Forms; and yet such was the Deformity of Pride, that it converted these glorious Creatures into hideous Devils: Whosoever then would be Angellike, let him join Humility and Sweetness of Nature to the forementioned Blessings of the Body. There is a Beauty also of bruit Animals, amongst which those are esteemed to have it most, which are most swift and Nimble, such as Greyhouds, Deer, Horses, Cats, and the like, so that Aptness of Motion seems to go a great way in the Definition of Beauty. CHAP. IX. Of the Dependency of the Soul on the Animal Faculties. THE Soul is to the Body, as the Jewel is to the Cabinet: The Cabinet we see is many times Embellished with great variety of Colours, and wrought with curious Artifice, but its Beauty being only Superficial, Men care not to dwell long in the Admiration of it, especially when they are to have a sight of the Riches which are within. Upon this Consideration I have given but a transitory Glance at the outward or Ornamental part of Man, as being that which first offers itself to Sight, the Body: That which is more worthy our fixed Admiration, is the Jewel it contains, a Jewel of inestimabl Value, the Soul, which though it enjoy an absolute Freedom in its own Nature, yet when it is in a State of Conjunction, as the Schoolmen speak, it is very much influenced, and in a manner determined by the Inclinations of the inferior Animal Faculty, not only as to the Individuality, but also as to the specification of its Actions; that is to say, the Body as it is the Subject of Life and Sense, doth not only contribute its Assistance to the Soul in the forming of a particular and internal Act, but doth very much dispose it as to what sort and kinds of Acts it shall apply its Power, and this not only in matters of Morality which regard the Will, but sometimes in matters of Thought and Study, such as have relation to the Understanding. Since therefore the Actions of Man do follow the Passions of the Mind, and these the Temper and Disposition of the Body, whosoever would discourse rationally of the former, aught to inquire into and survey the Constitutions of the latter. Let us run over all the Circumstances of Life, let us view the Varieties of every Age of Man, together with the several Dispositions of Climates and Countries, and we may easily observe that Nature doth always act in Conformity to this Principle. The Inclinations and Desires of Childhood are not the same with those of maturer Years, nor those of maturer Years the same with those of old Age. The moist and tender Constitutions of Youth, like the Virgin Wax, are capable to receive any Impression, and as apt to lose it. It's Nature is Fluid and Unconstant, prone to Pleasure, and impatient of Hardship and Delay. Men of riper Years, standing as it were in the middle Region of Life, and comparing things present with past and future, form their Actions accordingly, and can easily comply with present Wants and Disappointments upon the large returns of Time and Expectation: They can smother less Resentments, and dissemble Fears upon a Prospect of Interest and Gain. And as in the several Ages of Man, so is it in the difference of Climates, that men's Propensities are determined easily, according to the Temperament of the Air and Region in which they live. They who inhabit the low Countries, are of a grosser Disposition, and of a more bulky Frame: Their Spirits move heavily, being charged with too much Humour and Repletion: This makes them more difficult to apprehend, but where they do attempt, they are indefatigable in the Pursuit, and Retentive of what they learn. This we see most apparently in the Dutch, in whom the want of more refined Spirits is abundantly supplied by Industry: They move but flowly, yet they are patiented of Fatigue both in Council and Commerce, and in matters of Learning, though their Conceptions are not so gentile and polished, they are nevertheless useful, and by their great Collections and variety of Readins, with which their bulky Volumes swell, they demonstrate to the World their invincible Constancy in what they undertake. Those who inhabit the colder Clime, are forced to supply the Defects of Heat with Drinking, which cannot but expose them to Bestiality and Indiscretion, and must have a great influence upon their Moral, as well as upon their Natural Capacities. Hence it is, that though they are generally quarrelsome, and exposed to all the Effects of Sottishness and Intemperance, nevertheless they are less Revengeful, at once discharging both their Surfeit and their Choler. That freedom and openness of Thought which accompanies their Drinking, makes them uncapable to Conceal or Premeditate any thing against the Government, as we see in the Germans, who notwithstanding their Intemperance, and the infinite number of little Principalities, notwithstanding that mixture and confusion of Governments, and the variety of Religions which are amongst them, live in better Accord with one another, and with a more regular Subjection to their Superiors, than others of their Neighbours who are more refined, which Boccatin very ingeniously observes in the Defence they made before the Tribunal of Apollo. The Inhabitants of Lands are generally more Rebellious and Unconstant than those who live upon the Continent, witness Britain, Ireland, and Sicily. We may observe the like Diversity of others, as to Morals and Politics, from the respect they have to the Heaven under which they live. Those of a dry and hot Country are born with quicker Wits than others, and obliged to greater regularity of Life, from the Dangers and Diseases which are derivable from Heat accompanied with Excess. Thus much is true in the general: But if we descend to Particulars, we may continue the Observation further, and show, that the Bend and Inclination of every Man's Life, doth hold Analogy with the individual Crasis and Constitution of his Body: There are some 'tis true, who go farther and assert; that from the Anatomy of the Brain a Man may demonstrate the diversity of the Passions, and discern the subtle Springs and first resorts of the Soul, but those are but Chimeras, the Inventions of Impertinence, or an ingenious Madness. Was there ever Man that could assign the Cells of Anger or Love, of Joy and Sorrow? Or could he show their different Figures and Dimensions, and by any Dissection of the Brain discover which was a wise Man, and which a Fool; from the different Traces left upon it? Nor is this Theory only ridiculous, but destructive also to the fundamental Articles of Religion, viz. The Soul's Immortality, and the Liberty of the Will: For though it be true, that in Bruits all things move in a certain Tenor, and as it were by Impulse, as it happens in a Watch, where the Wheels are set in order, and the Springs wound up; nevertheless, so great is the variety of Actions in a Rational Soul, so sublime are its Speculations, and so predominant its Resolves above all the Reports and Tendencies of Sense, as shows sufficiently that there is a Faculty in Man independent on it, and though it be oftentimes inclined by it, yet is it able to disengage itself, and to exercise a sovereign Authority over Nature: Whereas those who assert the contrary, do not only involve themselves in palpable Absurdities, but do deny the very Existence of their own Souls, when they define all the Faculties of it to be nothing but a Motion of the Animal Spirits proportioned to some certain Organs and Instruments, all which are annihilated by Death. This then is true, that every Man has a power derived from his own Soul to control the Motions of Nature, but then 'tis true too, that this must be Understood only in Men of a Masculine and of a disciplined Reason. Most incline to Nature, and choose the Methods which Passion does propose; nay even in Intellectual Operations, and in matters of Opinion, how willing are we to delude ourselves being biased by Interest and that Interest accommodated only to Sense and present enjoyments. But to leave humane Actions whether Intellectual or Moral, let us consider those which are Natural, I mean the Passions, of which 'tis certain beyond all dispute and question, that they depend entirely upon the Disposition of the Body. No sooner does an Object strike upon the Eye, for instance, but the Image is conveyed immediately to the common Storehouse of the Senses, the Imagination, and accordingly as it appears agreeable or displeasing, so does the Imagination make the impression upon the Animal Spirits, which with imperceptible quickness and subtlety are transmitted by the Nerves to the Parts principally concerned, and excite Motions of desire or dislike, with all the Train of Actions subsequent thereto; if we make an Impression on the Water by casting in a Stone, or upon the Air by striking of solid Bodies together, we find a kind of Undulation, by which as by a succession of multiplied Impressions, the Image is conveyed to a considerable distance faster, or slower as the Medium is disposed. 'Tis the same in our Bodies as to the Images of Sense, though it be performed after a manner, which is far more quick and delicate; hence it is, that as men live with more or less Regularity and Temperance, their Senses are more or less refined to receive the Images of things, and in Conformity hereunto the Passions move with greater or less justness and order. These Considerations being premised, I come now to discourse upon the Actions of the Mind, as they fall under these two Grand Faculties of the Soul, the Will and the Understanding; and because both these Faculties receive their Informations from certain Instruments, I shall in the first place inquire into the Nature and Constitution of these Instruments, and they are either External, contained under the five Senses, or Internal, viz. Imagination and Memory. CHAP. X. Of the Senses. ONE who is confined to a close Prison, in which are some few Chinks, only for the conveyance of Light and Air, though he may have an ability to see all the variety of Objects which are in Nature, notwithstanding this can actually discern no more, than what lies directly opposite to the strait passages of the Walls, in which he is imprisoned. Just so the Soul of Man is confined to the Body as to a close Chamber or Prison, from whence it happens, that though it be capable in its own Nature, of knowing all things within the Compass or Sphere of Creatures, yet it falls out, that whilst it is in this state of Confinement, all the informations it can receive of what's transacted in Nature, is conveyed to it by those narrow Passages or Casements of the Senses; so that were it once delivered from this imprisonment, and exposed to the open day, it would then be able to take one great Prospect of all the wonders and glorious Objects of Heaven and Earth, with which this World is beautified. Of the five Senses, three serve more immediately for the Operations of Nature and Life, viz. Feeling, Tasting and Smelling; the other two viz. Seeing and Hearing are Instrumental to the Operations of the Understanding: For so it was, that men by the Instinct of Nature were first taught to express themselves and their Conceptions of things by certain Articulate Sounds, which by the help of Art were afterwards formed into Words. Now these Words if we consider the Letters or Characters of which they are Compounded, do represent the things contained in them by the Sense of Seeing, but if we consider them with relation to the Organs of Speech, and the Sounds they make in the Pronounciation, they convey their signification to us by the Sense of Hearing. If we consider the Senses altogether, perhaps man enjoys them all in as great perfection as any particular Creature whatsoever: but if we consider them apart, as they are to be found in several sort of Animals, 'tis certain there are many of them which have their Senses more acute and per … t than Man. Birds, especially those of Prey, as Hawks, Eagles, and the like, are of wonderful Sight, whether we consider the distance at which they see, or the sudden discovery they make of Objects, or lastly their great force and strength in looking against the Light of the Sun. Also Birds and Beasts of Prey, being such as feed on Flesh are wonderful sagacious in their Smell. It is reported of Eagles, that after a Battle they have smelled the Carcases at a hundred mile's distance, and have come the next day from all Quarters to feed upon the dead Bodies, which they could not possibly do were they not guided to it by their Scent, for they never flock together but upon such occasions of Prey. I once Dissected a Dog, and having washed my hands very clean, and whetted my Knife bright, being at Supper some hours after, I offered a Greyhound some meat from my Plate, which smelling to he refused and went away though he were at that time very hungry. The reason why Birds and Beast of Prey are more acute in the sense of Smelling, proceeds from the extraordinary heat and abundance of Spirits, with which these Creatures are replenished, so that they require a grosser Nutriment and frequent Supplies; though it be true with all th●● all Creatures have their Senses most ●cute when they are fasting, if it be not too excessive, for in such cases Nature grows weak and languishing. Now that Creatures when they are hungry should have their Senses more acute than at other times, is plain; for in a state of Repletion the Spirits are clouded with such gross Vapours, as rise from the Stomach to the Brain, the Region of Sense, by which means their Motion is retarded, and from which inconvenience they are never more free than in a state of fasting and abstinence. Now because Beasts of Prey by reason of their extraordinary heat endure hunger with greatest impatience; therefore is it, that their Senses are more vigorous and acute whilst they are under that necessity. If there be any Sense in which man has the Pre-eminence above other Creatures, 'tis that of Hearing, though in the Sense of Seeing as well as in the other of Hearing he has this advantage, that he makes the Objects of both these Senses, to be capable of conveying Rational Notions to the Mind, by the help of words either spoke or written (as I have already noted) which is the chiefest means by which Knowledge is propagated. This must certainly be acknowledged to be a great privilege of our Nature, and such to which no other Creature, though never so sagacious can ever arrive to. For though Elephants and Dogs are very docible, yet they can never be brought to understand the signification of Letters in any degree, and for words spoken 'tis very little which they understand also, being taught with great patience and difficulty to perform some few Motions upon certain words of Command. 'Tis wonderful to consider how Nature in many cases provides for our Necessities, making one Sense to supply the Defects and Wants of another. I have seen some who being born Deaf, and consequently Dumb, have notwithstanding been extraordinary Ingenious in speaking by Signs: by the quick motions of their Eyes they would penetrate into another's Thoughts, and by the nimble motion of their fingers express their own. I once saw a Gentleman who by some accident became Deaf, yet had his Sense of Feeling so accurate, that by laying his hand only upon the Table in a Room, where was a Consort of Music, he would distinguish the Measures of the Air, and would tell frequently what Tune was played. There are many cases in which our Senses may be deluded: I shall instance only in that of Seeing, which yet of all others seems least subject to be deceived. Now the Deception of the Sight proceeds from some of these Causes; as first, the Indisposition of the Organ: to those who have the Jaundice all thing seem Yellow, and to others who are over-taken with Drink, the light seem double. Men that are in a Fever imagine they see Birds, Beasts, and Flowers exactly drawn upon the Curtains of their Beds; and any violent Blow upon the Eye represents sparks of Fire. A second cause of the Deception of the Sight proceeds from some alteration of the Medium: when the Air is thick and Foggy, Objects seem much bigger than the Natural, but when it is serene they are seen far more distinctly and at a greater distance. By the reflection and refraction also of Images and Light, things are represented also in the Air, insomuch that the Images of a few Horsemen have been multiplied into Armies, as we see the Image of one man by the reflection of two Glasses may be multipled into a Multitude. Sometimes we seem to see three or four Suns or Moons at once, all which are so alike that 'tis hard to distinguish the true one from the false. The Sun and Moon at their rising and setting are five thousand Miles more remote from our sight, then when they are at their Meridian, and yet they seem twice as big at their rising or setting, as they do when they are directly over us. The reason is from the refraction of their Beams through the many Vapours and Exhalations, which be betwixt the Horizon and our sight, which are far more gross, and possess a thousand times more space than those which be betwixt our sight and the upper Region of the Air above us: Should a man who was born blind be suddenly restored to sight, he would doubtless believe the Images which he saw in a Mirror to be a solid Substance, in the same manner as other Creatures judge which act only by Sense, as we see also in little Children. The Dog thought it had been real Flesh he saw, when he caught at the Shadow of it in the Water. A third Cause of the Deception of the Sight, is the disproportionate distance of the Object; hence it is, that the Stars which many times exceed the Earth in bigness, seem to us no bigger than the sparklings of a flame; Towns which lie in the same line seem many times contiguous, though they lie a mile or more asunder, and Clouds also at distance seem like Rocks or Mountains. Nay in Objects with which we daily do Converse, and where there is no defect of Organ or Medium, or of any undue distance, I much doubt whether two Persons looking upon the same Object do not many times receive very different impressions from it: and my reason's this: The great Object of Sight is Colour, and Colour being nothing but a certain refraction or reflection of Light mixed with Shadow, there will different Colours arise as the Light falls variriously upon the same Object; so that two persons looking upon it in different Stations, and by different degrees of Light, it must appear to them under different Colours, a thing to which Painters have a special regard. And to evince this Point thoroughly, I shall only propose two Examples. The one is this; let a Man match two Colours never so exactly by Candle Light, they shall appear another thing by the Light of the Sun. Another Instance is this; Take any Stuff Red or Blue for the purpose, and look upon it by the Sun-light, and afterwards hold the same betwixt the Sun and the Eye, and it shall appear of a far more Orient Tincture by a refracted than by a reflected Light. From all which and a thousand other Instances of this Nature, it appears that the Evidence of any one single Sense may be undemonstrative and fallacious. The certain way therefore to judge of the reality of a thing, is when several persons concur in the same judgement of it, and when the Truth of its Existence is made out to more Senses than one. Thus the Truth of our Saviour's Resurrection was confirmed not only by the Sense of Seeing, but by those others of Hearing and Feeling; and this too, not with regard to one individual Person, but to many who saw him and conversed with him at the same time. 'Tis a Maxim in Philosophy, That the Operations of the Understanding do depend upon those of Sense, which may be understood two ways. First That the Intellect does in its actual Exercise depend immediately upon Sense: Or, Secondly, That it does mediately depend on Sense; in as much as the first Notion it had of things, were Originally derived from the informations of Sense. If we interpret the Maxim the former way 'tis certainly false, for so far is the Intellect from a dependence upon Sense in the actual Exercise of its Faculties, that there is nothing which does obstruct it in its Functions more than these outward Objects with which we do Converse. Upon which account the Understanding is never more employed in the search of Truth, then when it is in profound Silence, and actually withdrawn from all things sensible, which like so many Messengers are always ready to disturb it by fresh reports. But if we interpret the Maxim in the later sense, it is most true: But then 'tis as true also that those first Informations or Rudiments of Sense, have no more resemblance with the Masculine Inferences and Conclusions of Reason, than the Letters of the Alphabet, which are also the first Rudiments of Speech, have a resemblance with the sublime Orations of Tully or Demohestnes. From what has hitherto been said, some infer, that the force of demonstration can have no greater certainty than the Evidence of sense, our Senses being as it were the first Principles upon which the Understanding proceeds to act. Now the evidence of Sense being proved in many Cases to be fallacious and uncertain, the Conclusions of Reason how demonstrative scever they may seem to be, must needs be uncertain also. To this I answer; that this Proportion, for instance [a line of four Inches is twice as long as a line of two inches] is as certain and demonstrative as any in the World: for though my sense might err in some Observation when it first represented the figure of a line to my understanding, nevertheless the Proposition is of an unalterable verity, as being built not upon the Image of a line as it was at first drawn upon my Mind, but upon that Principle of Proportion by which all the Parts taken together are equal to the whole, which is a first Principle, such as is born with our Natures, and independent upon any antecedent discoveries of Sense. Sensation may be described after this manner. The Image of an Object arriving to the Organ of Sense, it makes the impression upon the Nerves which are there terminated for that use, each of which is so Curiously formed, and is of such a certain specific Contexture as makes it capable only to receive the Images belonging to some one particular Sense, as for instance of Seeing, Feeling, Hearing, etc. The Nerves are the Channels wherein the Animal Spirits which are of an Etherial substance next to Spiritual, are running always up and down with a most impetuous and subtle Motion. Now the Nerves terminating in the Brain as in their Centre, the Spirits also which are the Vehicles of all sensible Images do by the guidance of the same Nerves convey these Images to the Brain also where they all meet as in one common Receptacle. CHAP. XI. Of Memory. MEmory is a Noble Branch of the Soul, and one of the Principal Internal Instruments of the Understanding as well as of the Will. 'Tis like a faithful Steward to whom the immense Treasure of Images is committed, all which it receives by the Ministry and Dispensation of the outward Senses. It keeps an account also of all things that have been transacted, and is always ready to produce out of its Storehouse whatsoever the Superior Faculties shall require. The Seat and Region of Memory is in the Brain, but where it makes its residence I leave to Anatomists to determine. Some are of Opinion that it is seated in that Meditullium or void space in the middle and Centre of the Brain, where as in a capacious Cave or Receptacle, it lies remote from Noise. Others hold that the Images of all sensible Objects, are laid up in the Concavities of the Brain, and that those delicate and numberless Partitions, which we see dispersed over all the whole Mass with such astonishment and wonder, are as so many Cells in which the Images of things are distinctly conserved, according to their several Species: which latter Opinion seems to be more probable, because we see that those who have the greatest Heads, have generally the best Memories; besides, many Persons have received great Decays in their Memories, and others have lost them utterly by reason of some great blows or wounds in the Head, which could not be possible did the seat of Memory reach so far as to that vacant place before spoken of, which lies too remote to receive injury by such Accidents: For should the hurt extend so far, 'tis impossible but it should be attended with present death. It is somewhat strange what is reported of Pope Clement the Sixth, that whereas he was a person of a bad Memory by Nature, by receiving accidentally a great blow upon his Head, his Memory became very good ever after; which shows that by the violence of the Percussion, his Brains were struck out of their former Station into a more convenient Situation, and such as served for the better retention of the sensory Images. As for that void Concavity which lies in the middle of the Brain, it seems to be destined for the Reception of the Noblest and most sublime Faculty of the Soul, the Understanding: for what other Function it should serve for, the most curious Anatomists could never yet discover, there being nothing to be found in it after all their Observations but a little thin and watery substance. Besides, it being in the Centre and most remote from from all External violence and disturbance, and being always in one even temper, it must be allowed to be the most Natural and proper place for Cogitation, and that sedateness with which Reason ought to act, so that 'tis like the Head of an Alembeck always cool, and serves to unite the Spirits, which are the immediate Instruments of Sense and Motion. There are two sorts of Memory, of which one consists purely in Rehearsal. This sort of Memory is useful to Preachers, Orators, and such as are obliged to deliver themselves in set Forms, and in this kind some men are very happy. It is reported of Cardinal Perron, that he was able to recite any thing upon the first hearing of it, and of this he gave an Instance before the King of France. A certain Poet had in a solemn Audience harangued Henry the Fourth by the Rehearsal of a long strain of Verses, which the King and all the Court much commended: The Cardinal told them that the Verses were stolen, and to make this good he recited them verbatim in the same order as they had been before delivered. Hereupon the Poet began to change Countenance, and had fallen into perpetual disgrace, had not the Cardinal declared that what he did was only a Trick, to show the strength and force of his own Memory. Others there are who will run over a Musterroll of hard Names which they never heard of before in the same order as they are recited by another. This reciting Faculty though it may beget some little Admiration in the Hearers is really of little benefit, for what is learned this way is as easily forgotten. There is another kind of Memory which consists in a firm and a steady Retention of what we have either seen, heard, or read of, and such as is always ready to furnish us with matter upon any Exigence: This must be acknowledged to be of great use, both at the Council Table and at the Bar: For such Persons are obliged ever and anon ●o hunt after Precedents, and to ransack Ancient Records: It concerns them therefore to know the Transactions of former Ages as well as of the present, and to have Examples always in store. They are obliged to state the Cases of Persons with all their circumstances, and to make reply to all things which may be urged to the contrary. This kind of Memory also is wonderfully serviceable in Conversation, especially amongst those who take delight in telling News, or in rehearsing of some Tale for divertisement: It is then only of bad use, when it is employed in the recital of past injuries, and in relating passages which tend to the shame and disparagement of these who have no way offended us. Memory though it may be useful to judgement by proposing Examples and Consequences, which have happened formerly upon like Circumstances, with these under which we lie at present, nevertheless it happens often that the variety of Instances pro and con with which a great Memory is always furnished, does but retard the Judgement, and make it more wavering and irresolute: Besides, Persons who have great Memories, do love to display their Gifts, so that generally they are great Talkers, a quality not very commendable, and such as is no way consistent with Judgement which weighs its Counsels with Maturity and Silence. CHAP. XIII. Of the Imagination. AFter the Consideration of Memory follows that of Imagination as being a Superior Faculty, for so it is that the Memory out of its own Storehouse of Images, does furnish the Imagination with Materials to work upon. Imagination therefore is a Power of the Soul, choosing at pleasure such Images as Sense and Memory, has drawn upon the Mind, and uniting them together in such a form as seems to represent some new Compound, not yet existing in Nature. It is an imitation therefore of that Omnipotence in the great Creator of the World, who produced all things from those Ideas which he first formed within himself. The pleasant descriptions of Poetry, the Pomp and Ornaments of the Theatre, the Curiosities and Magnificence of Buildings are all but the Productions of the Imagination; all charming Notes of Music, the rare designs of Painting and Sculpture, together with all the ingenious Inventions of Artists, are derived from hence. To this we own all those Modes and Fashions of Apparel with which we are so much delighted: To this we own all the Pleasures of the , all the Recreations and Divertisements of Life, and in a word, whatsoever tends to the advancement of Arts, and to the Ornament of Nature; when the Imagination therefore doth form an Idea of a thing, the Will presently apprehends it, either as and Good, or as Evil and Distasteful: Hereupon the Understanding goes immediately to work, and by Rules of Reason judges of the Convenience, or Inconvenience of what's proposed. This then seems to be the Method of the Souls Acting. First Sense and Memory present us with the simple Images of Things, the Imagination makes the Composition, the Will Desires or Dislikes; and lastly, the Understanding doth make its Judgement of it. Some Nations are naturally addicted to some particular Fancies above others. The French being generally of a gay and jovial Humour, their Imaginations lead them to be Amorous; and in pursuance hereof they have a particular Genius for Romances, and Histories of Gallantry, as also for loving sports, Balls, variety of Modes, forms of Compliment, with such like Entertainments as seem to cherish that wanton Passion. The Italians who are of a Temper a little more Saturnine and serious, have their Imaginations generally carried away with the Love of Music, Painting and Sculpture, all which require a pregnant Fancy to Invent, and much time to perfect what they do design. Men who are of retired and serious Inclinations, are less volatile and luxuriant in their Imaginations, but withal they are most resolute in the prosecution of whatsoever they are addicted to: They will never desist till they have brought their matters to maturity, and generally all great Designs own their Birth and Perfection to Men of this Temper. The Dutch naturally are a heavy slugish People, symbolising with the Air, or Water rather in which they Breath: Hence it is, that they are flow at Projection, but what they do once attempt, especially in matters which concern their Interest, they are most obstinate to bring it to Perfection. On the contrary, the French living in a pure and subtle Air, abound with more Spirits, but then they are unapt to prosecute any thing which implys Difficulty and Patience. Their great abundance of Heat still suggesting to them Varieties of new Expedients, they presently quit their first Designs upon the apprehension of Difficulty, which in Conclusion renders them very Unconstant and Wavering. The Flemings, as they are betwixt them in Country and Situation, so do they partake with them too in their Genius and Inclinations, being both good at design, and happy in the Improvement of all sorts of Manufactures. There is another sort of Imagination which consists merely in Apprehension, and is found to have a wonderful Influence upon the Person that is the Subject of it. We may observe some Persons that they daily fall sick and die by the force merely of Imagination. I knew a Family in which there were many Brothers, all hopeful Gentlemen, of which, one dying of the small Pox, all the rest, being four or five in Number, excepting one only, fell sick of the same Distemper in some short space after, and died, though they were at distance from one another, and out of all reach of Contagion. In order to Health, Imagination is of great Force and Virtue: When a Man hath a good Opinion of his Physician, and of what he gives him, his Heart seems to dilate itself with a kind of Joy: This gives an easy Circulation to the Humours, and makes them more capable to entertain the Medicine. Besides, the Spirits which before were drooping, upon the apprehension of Safety summon up themselves, and Nature doth its utmost efforts to help on the Delivery. The Spirits are the Vehicles of Life, and move slower or faster, according as the Imagination is possessed upon which they do depend. Women great with Child are very subject to strange effects of Imagination. It is said that the Antipathy which King James had to a naked Sword, proceeded from the Fright which the Queen his Mother took when she was big with him, at such time as David Rizius was pursued by Assassinates with naked Swords, and villainously Murdered in her Presence. It is strange what is reported of Apollonius Tyanaeus, who being banished by the Emperor Domitian, that Disgrace made such an Impression on him, that the Tyrant seemed present always to his Imagination. In the midst of an Harangue which he made to the People of Ephesus, he began to deliver himself more soft and slowly than ordinary; at length, making a Pause, he abruptly quitted the Subject he was upon, and retreating three or four paces, he looked on the Ground with an intent and menacing Countenance, and uttered these Words; Smite, smite the Tyrant, which he spoke with that Force and Agony, as seeming to be present and assisting at the Act: At which the Audience being amazed, Apollonius like one recovered out of a Trance, cried out, Courage my Friends, the Tyrant is slain this Day, nay rather, this very instant, so help me Pallas, which as Philostratus (the writer of his Life) reports, proved to be the same day and hour that the Emperor was Murdered. Many Instances of this nature occur of the Force of Imagination in knowing Transactions done at distance; I shall not here pretend to give a natural Reason for such Prodigies, nevertheless this is certain, that Imagination has not only had a great Ascendent over the Spirits and Actions of particular Men, but even of Multitudes and Armies. Alexander finding his Soldiers dismayed at the difficulty of passing the River Granic, consults with Aristander the Soothsayer, how he might keep up the fainting Spirits of his Army : Aristander being then about to sacrifice, with a certain Juice secretly writes in the Palm of his Hand these Words, with the Letters Inversed [the Gods have granted that Alexander shall be Victorious] which he had no sooner done, but taking the Victims Liver into his Hand, the foresaid Inscription was so attracted by the Blood and Heat of the Beast's Liver, that the Letters appeared in their natural Order and Figure inscribed upon the Entrails, which showing to those who were about him, they all cried out a Miracle, in which Confidence the Soldiers took Courage, and passing the River became Victorious. Melancholy Persons are subject to strong Imaginations. Some have fancied themselves to be Ghosts, Birds, Wolves, with a thousand such Extravagancies, and to speak the Truth, the whole World is upon the matter governed by this Idol. He who is actually a King, and the Madman who fancies himself a King, have both of them, upon the matter, the same Enjoyments. One though he really tastes the Fruits of Grandeur, yet if we examine the matter thoroughly, all his Enjoyments do terminate in Fancy: And if his be more acute to relish the Pleasure, so is it more sensible of the Bitterness and Anxiety which doth accompany that State; whereas the other by fancying himself Happy, is really so, since he feels no want. Hunger nor Cold never afflict him, he complains not of Treachery and ungrateful Ministers; he meets with no potent Factions at home, nor Confederacies abroad, to disturb his imaginary Government: He fancies that he Rules without Control, he makes Laws, he creates him Noblemen, he displaces Officers at his Will and Pleasure, and in the strength of his Persuasion he passes away his Life merrily, Singing and Applauding his own Felicity and Power; thus fares it with the happy Lunatic, whilst many others who would be thought to be in their right Wits and Senses, are really Mad, those I mean, who upon every little Cross or Capricio fall into a raving Passion. CHAP. XIII. Of the Will and Passions. AS Imagination follows the reports of Sense, so the Will with its Passions follows the Bend of the Imagination. The Will therefore is nothing but a Power of Election or Reprobation of things either agreeable or displeasing. The Passions by which it acts are chief these, viz. Love and Hatred, Desire and Aversion, Joy and Sorrow, Anger and Complacency, Hope and Fear, etc. As to the Seat of the Will, as also of the Passions 'tis without dispute in the Heart. This appears most evidently from Blushes and Paleness, from that quick Circulation and boiling of the Blood, and from those beat and that deficiency which at other times affect that Noble part, with such alterations as immediately seize the Blood. Upon occasions of Sorrow, Fear, or Dispair, we feel an Oppression and Contraction of the Heart; upon the report of Good News we feel a certain dilatation of the Spirits, all is open, and those Fountains of Life run smooth and calmly in their several Channels. The Passions therefore are as it were the resorts and Springs of Life, without which all things would move dead and heavily. The Stoics 'tis true, were Men of another belief: they rejected the Passions as useless, they taught that a Man ought not to be sorrowful for the Calamities of his Friend, nor rejoice at his Welfare, upon this persuasion, that a Wiseman enjoyed all things within himself, and was therefore uncapable of being made better by Fortune or worse by Injury. From whence it followed that whosoever did Defame, Rob, wound a Man, did him no Injury; and if so, then 'twould follow likewise that whosoever should commit such an Outrage, would commit no crime; as also, that all sorts of Violence offered to another, whether Slander, Theft or Murder, would be equally indifferent and inoffensive, for where there is no Injury done, there can be no degrees of offence. Thus these Philosophers whilst they endeavoured to raise a man above the Stars and Clouds into the Sphere of the Moon, did really degrade him into the Region of Beasts, or rather of Stocks and Stones, when they described him as a Creature stupid and senseless, without Heat and Motion. But whatsoever those airy Notions were with which they endeavoured to delude their followers, 'tis certain that when they came to put their Doctrine into practice, they soon changed the Natural Philosopher into the Natural man; for besides their Pride and Covetousness for which they were so notorious, we find them also to have been Morose and Cynical, violent in their Invectives, and subject to all the transports of Choler and Intemperance. The Rules of their Profession were for the most part measured by a Cloak and a long Beard, of which the loss in the Fictions of Lucian, was a thing of such importance as was capable to draw Tears from the greatest of them. But to leave these Philosophers and their Beards, we have Arguments of better Authority to prove that Passions are useful, and consistent with human Nature in its highest Perfection, witness our Blessed Saviour who was seen to Weep, to be Angry, to be Compassionate, and tender, with such like alterations as argued a perturbation of Spirit. Nay God Almighty in the Divinity, though he be free from all alterations and disturbance of Passion, is pleased nevertheless to appear to Men under theseveral shapes of Love, Pity, Anger, Jealousy, Hatred, etc. to the end he might Create in us the like Passions for Good and Evil. How is it possible to persuade a Man to embrace Virtue, but by representing it Clothed with all those Beauties which may create a Love, and then a desire of it? How is it possible to dissuade a Man from Vice, as Drunkenness, for instance, but by representing it as injurious to Reputation and Estate, as destructive of Health and Natural Parts, as loathsome and painful to the Body, and as punishable with Eternal Misery hereafter? all which cannot choose but create in us a fear of the Punishment, as well as a hatred of the Gild. The Passions are like Winds, when they are regular and moderate they fill the Sail, and carry on the Ship to the desired Port, but when they are interrupted and violent, they serve only to raise a Tempest, and menace nothing but danger and ruin. 'Tis the business therefore of reason to give them their measures, and this it does these two ways, first by fixing them on the right Objects, and this is done when we love that which is truly virtuous, brave and honest, and when we hate that which is really loathsome, unjust and shameful, etc. Secondly, By assigning them their proper degrees, and not suffering them to run out into Extremity, we may be Angry, but not be transported with Fury; we may desire but not with impatience: All Transports of this kind argue weakness of Judgement; they are injurious to ourselves as well as to others, and hinder the due accomplishment of what we do design. Is a Man prone to Love, let him fix his Love upon such an Object as is most Beautiful, most durable, and most beneficial to him, I mean the great Creator, from whom he receives Life with all its Comforts; and with respect to him, let him love Man his Image, and such especially as merit our Gratitude: if a Man be prone to Anger, let him cherish his Passion against the Enemies of Religion and Virtue, and against Atheism, Oppression, Fraud, Hypocrisy, Perjury, Faction, and such like Vices as are every where popular and insulting. The Passions of unconstant Persons, as is excellently well described by Causin, are for the most part eager and ardent at the beginning, but are of little duration, for such men are presently tired with what is present, and always look after things to come, being never where they are, and being always where they are not, nor never can be; they are every day at the beginning of their life, even then when they should be at an end, and the good Actions which they do, they do them not but by halves, being never at leisure to finish their works by reason of their precipitation; the diversity of desires which interchange, drawing them sometimes here and sometimes there, and ruining all the designs and level of their Spirit. One may observe in them a great thirst after Novelty, and continual changes of Manners, Study, Habit, and Course of life, as also of Speech, Converse, Sports, Exercise, Counsels, Amours and Friendship, with mouths breathing both hot and cold at once. In short, their life is nothing but a continual flux and reflux, being replenished with shadows, giddiness and illusions which, in effect makes them most miserable, and is usually attended with disesteem, grief and tediousness of life, and with great Naufrage of Spirit and Reputation: Thus he: Indeed a Passionate man does at the same time desire and languish, he hopes and yet fastens on nothing: He rejoices and reputes, and oftentimes contemns the Possession of a thing which he a thousand times desired. His Pretensions are Contradictious: He Conjures by Heaven, and detests the Earth; He Curses men and all living Creatures, and is a burden to himself, and Contemptible to all the World. This Consideration then of the great Variety of the Passions, and of the great Contrariety to one another, makes me willing to subscribe to their Opinion, who hold that Man at present is a more Excellent Creature than he was in the State of Innocence: for than he had all the means of safety in his own power; his Understanding was pregnant and clear, his Will was most free and unbyass'd, and all his Passions were in a quiet and dutiful Obedience thereunto; so that there was little Prudence to be then shown in his Actions, which were so well fenced, and as it were hedged in on all sides from Danger and Error: Whereas now all his Faculties being obscured and in perpetual disorder, and he having very fallacious and imperfect means to inform himself in his Courses, and being surrounded also with infinite Temptations and Difficulties, it shows a generous Courage in him to attempt, and as great Conduct in him to persevere in the ways of Virtue. 'Tis no hard matter for a man to be Victorious, who is encompassed with a Puissant, Vigilant and well disciplined Army; but he who can overcome whilst his Soldiers are in Mutiny, and whilst he lies Entrenched amongst the Snares and Stratagems of his Enemy, he indeed deserves the Name of a brave Commander. As that Constitution of Body is best which can endure all Changes and Extremities, so likewise that health of Mind, is most to be accounted of, which can overcome the greatest Temptations and Disorders. They therefore who can curb themselves when they are running upon a Precipice, and (in my Lord Verulam's phrase) give the Mind (as we see in Horsemanship) the shortest stop or turn, are really Men of true Abilities and Art: What that great and Learned man hath in his Excellent judgement taken notice of, is most worthy a serious Consideration, viz. that this Combat of the Passions with one another is of special use in Moral and Civil matters: For by this we are taught how to set Affection against Affection, and to master one by another, even as we use to hunt Beast with Beast, which we could not otherwise so easily compass. Upon this Foundation is erected that Excellent use of Proemium and Poena by which Civil States consist; employing the Predominant affections of fear and hope, for the suppressing and bridling of the rest: For as in the Government of States it is sometimes necessary to bridle one Faction with another, so is it in the Government within. Thus far he. Men who are not subject to the transports of Passion, whether of Love, Anger, Fear, Sorrow, &c▪ have great advantages above others in many respects. And first in matters of Deliberation and Counsel. A man of this Temper can calmly and patiently hear all that is alleged pro and con without being shaken: Another's Passion does not move him, he lays hold of his Extravagancies and delivers his own Sense without hesitation and stammering, and without giving any ground of advantage to him, with whom he is in debate: His hand holds the Balance without trembling, and he takes steady measures of the Mark; all which 'tis impossible for one to do, who suffers his Reason to be disturbed by the unseasonable and immoderate Exercises of some rebellious Passion. Statesmen above all others ought to study this Art, as having the Eyes of many secret Enemies always on them, and where a small Extravagance of words may be the ruin both of their Counsels and of themselves. In the next place, in matters purely of Conversation, the even tempered Man has much the advantage: He is agreeable and inoffensive in all Companies, he rarely provokes others to Anger, and if he meets with any thing which is provoking, he either slights it, or puts the best disguise and sense upon it that the matter will bear. He chastises the frowning Countenance of another with a smile, and turns that which was designed as an Affront into Mirth and Drollery. But withal it is observable in Men of this Temper, that they are bad for Execution, and that they▪ are generally Hypocrites. They are the worst, of Friends in as much as they are never touched Passionately with their Friends Concerns, and they are the worst of Enemies too, as never giving notice of the mischief they intent: Such a one was Tiberius of old, and such also were Andronicus, Comnenus, and King Richard the Third of England, all which were great Dissemblers, and pursued most Bloody and Malicious designs under the appearance of Mildness and Affability. Contrary Passions are found generally in the same subject and to the same degree. He who is prone to Love a thing excessively will with the same Excess hate any thing that does oppose him, he who is immoderate in his Joy, will be as immoderate also in his Sorrow upon the privation of that which gave him matter of delight. I shall not here confine myself to the Method of the Schools, who reduce the Passions to Iraseible and Concupiscible: I shall rather range them under these two general heads of Love and Hatred, conformable to the two grand Motives of the Will, which are the Universal and Comprehensive scope of all our Actions Good and Evil: for to these two all the other Passions are reduced. First for Love, if the good be only in prospect it is called Desire, but if the attainment of it be attended with uncertainty it is called Hope; if it be in our actual possession, it procures Complacency and Delight; if there be danger of another's getting it from us, it begets Jealousy; And lastly, if it be beneficial to us, and if we have a certainty of obtaining it, the consideration of it begets Joy. Therefore Hatred, if the Evil be future, and only in prospect it is called Dislike or Slight, if there be a probability that it will happen to us, it is called Fear: If it actually happen to us, and there be an inclination to oppose it, it begets Anger: If it consist in the want of something which we cannot obtain, and which is in the possession of another, it begets Envy; And lastly, if it be such as we believe cannot be remedied, or such as we believe cannot be prevented, it begets Sorrow. These are principal Affections and Dispositions of the Mind, to which all others are reduced. Now when I speak of Good and Evil, as the grand Motives of our Affections, and the ultimate end of all our Actions, I do not intent really what is Good or Evil, but what we apprehend to be so: For many times we pursue a real Evil under the form and appearance of something Good, and we decline a real good upon the apprehension we have of its being Evil: Good and Evil therefore are not here to be understood Morally and in themselves, but with respect to the Imagination of him who wills. CHAP. XIV. Of Love and Hatred, of Jealousy and Envy, of Desire and Dislike. I Begin with Love which is the Noblest Passion of the Soul, and a Ray of the Divine Nature. God when he made the World pronounced of all things in it, that they were exceeding Good: Now goodness being the Measure and Object of Love, it follows that whatsoever God made became the Object of his Love; the more therefore we love, the more resemblance we have to that Divine Goodness. However Love as it is attributed to God, differs very much from that which is in Men: First than they differ in respect of their Nature; in Man it is Passion attended with Desire, Hope, Fear, Sorrow, and such like alterations as are accompanied with great disquiet, and imply imperfection in the person who is the subject of them: But in God it is one perpetual Emanation of Goodness derivable on others without disorder or dimunition of store: In the next place they differ in respect of their several ends: Man's Love always terminates in himself; if we love Creatures of the same Nature with ourselves, we do it that they may love us again, or if we transfer our Love to things inferior to our Nature, whether Animate or Inanimate, we do it upon this account, that they may be some way beneficial to us, either in respect of Pleasure or Service. But if we place our Love upon the supreme Object from whom we derive our beings, we do it either that he may continue his Blessings to us, or upon the hopes we have of receiving new Measures of his Bounty. 'Tis true, Schoolmen may talk of a Divine Love, and so forth, but when we come to Examine our Affections to the bottom, we find self-interest to be the Centre of our Desires; and those who pretend to love Virtue for Virtues sake, will at length be forced to acknowledge that they do so upon the account of that Reputation which accompanies, or of that Reward which follows the practice of it: from whence it follows that our own advantage and felicity has a great share in the Duty, whereas the Love of God is carried directly upon the Object without any desire or possibility of receiving benefit from it: Like the Sun, it is continually streaming forth its benign Influence upon the Earth, without ever receiving any recruit or recompense. Some men's Love is more particular and ardent, exerting as it were all the Force and Powers of the Soul, for the obtaining of some one Object, with which it afterwards seems incorporated by strictest Unions of Complacency and Delight: This is many times Conspicuous in those more Sacred Ties of Matrimony and Friendship. Others there are who love with a more remiss and general Affection, distributing that stock on many which they refuse to appropriate to one; hence it is that those who profess Celibacy are generally better natured than others, whose Love is engrossed by one: Also Religious men who are cut off from particular Endearments, seem to have a more general Concern and Tenderness for Mankind. Love, as Causin observes, from the diversity of its Objects has several Names, if it move directly towards God, and reflectingly on our Neighbour as his Image, loving one for himself and the other for his Author, it is called Charity; if it diffuse itself on divers Creatures, sensible and insensible, being such which serve for Pleasure or Commodity, such as Horses, Jewels, Birds, Pictures, Books, Medals, Flowers or the like, it is nothing but Appetite or simple Affection; if it applies itself to humane Creatures, by way of reciprocal Benevolence, it is called Friendship; if it levelly at bodily Pleasure, it is a love of Concupiscence, which being immoderate even with intention of Marriage does not cease to be Vicious: If it be regulated by Bounds prescribed by the Law of God, it is called Conjugal Love, if it overflows into sensual Pleasures, it is called Luxury. There are twelve Marks given by Jo. Picus Mirandula, by which we may judge of a true and real Love: The first is to Love one and one only, and to Contemn all other things in Comparison of him. Secondly, To think himself unhappy when he is not with the Person he loves. Thirdly, To be willing to suffer all things, even Death itself that he may serve him. Fourthly, To adjust himself in such a manner as may render his person acceptable to the Party he loves. Fifthly, To be present with him so far forth as he is able, if not totally at least in thought and desire. Sixthly, To love his Friends, Kindred, House, , Pictures, or whatsoever else does any way relate to him. Seventhly, To desire his Praise and Reputation, and to be impatient at his disgrace; to rejoice at his good Fortune, and to grieve at his losses. Eightly, To believe him Master of the greatest Perfections, and endeavour to draw others to the same belief. Ninthly, To be always in a readiness to suffer for his sake, and to think such sufferings sweet. Tenthly, To weep often upon his account, through Grief if absent, through Joy if present. Eleventhly, To languish always and expire in desire after him. And Lastly, to serve him readily and cheerfully without hopes of Reward. Love if it be not reciprocal, is commonly requited with secret Contempt and Scorn: whosoever therefore feels this Passion growing on him, if he finds he cannot get ground, let him retreat betimes, for although Importunity may tyre out a Person to make a condescension, yet there being a kind of force which goes along with it, Nature will quickly spring back to its former bent as soon as the force does cease: and upon this account we see, that the first Interviews of Persons do usually make the deepest and the most permanent Impressions. Martial men have been always addicted to Venus: and as the Romans derived their Original from her Son Aeneas and from the Trojans his Companions, So the greatest Hero amongst the Romans, even Caesar, owned Venus for his Tutelar Deity, invoking her in Fight, and making her the Symbol and Watchword of Battle: It was to Venus he ascribed the Victory over Pompey in the Plains of Pharsalia, where he built a Temple to her: in the Spanish War he Marched under her Colours against Pompey the Son: his Devices had all of them allusion to her, he bore her Figure upon his Armour, and all his Letters and Dispatches were Signed with her Image. But whether he had this Honour for her as she was the Goddess of Love, is not so certain; 'Tis more probable he did it for the glory of the Julian Family, which descended from Julius Ascanius her Grandson, so that his Medals might have born the Inscription of Veneri Genetrici, but he chose that rather of Veneri Victrici, or Venus the Victorious: for so she was more properly over him, being subdued by the Beauty and Eloquence of Cleopatra, but not so entirely as was Marcus Antonius, who preferred the Beauty and Dalliance of that Mignonne before Honour and Empire. Augustus also his Competitor who Governed the World in great Felicity, and the longest of any Emperor, was himself a slave to the Passions of Livia; so that as Women for the most part (Hippia-like) affect Swordmen; so these make it some part of their Glory to extend their Conquest over the other Sex, though 'tis seldom that they are infatuated with Love in such a measure, as those are who live an idle and Voluptuous Life. The former make it but a Divertisement, and for the Recreation of their Spirits; the latter an Employment: The one tastes of it only as Sauce; the other feeds upon it as a standing Dish. Love is much indebted to Romances and Poets for its Beauty, and yet the latter represent it many times in a very undecent Figure: They make Cupid blind, thereby showing the Errors and Dangers they are exposed to who follow its Guidance, and when they describe Hercules spinning at Omphale's Distaff, and she laughing at him, they do not only tell us that it is able to enervate the greatest Virtue, but that it makes the bravest Men ridiculous, and exposes them to the Scorn and Derision of the weakest: For indeed what can be more ridiculous than to see a Man, otherwise of Sense and Understanding, reduced to the miserable Condition of seeking all his Felicity from a Mistress? How doth this Knight errand hug himself in the apprehensions of his imaginary Purchase? How doth he swell in his Feathers, and fancy himself to be the most accomplished Cavalier breathing? He dreams of his fair Lady by Night, and meets with her in his most watchful Thoughts; he haunts her Walks, and bribe's those who are about her, to be instrumental in his Pretensions: He thinks every Hour a Year till he gets into her Lodging, where with invincible Patience he expects her Sight, thinking she is very tedious in her coming, and yet dreads the Onset, and fainting under Palpitations of Heart, he gins to wish himself off again: At last he doth approach her with much Humility and studied Compliments, which he utters not without some Trembling and Confusion: He waits upon her Eyes, he lays hold of every Glance, and shapes himself to all her Motions and Discourse: He caresses her with Amours and wanton Sonnets, with flattering Poems, and with Stories of Intrigue and Gallantry. He swears she is divinely Fair, that she is the most charming Creature Breathing, and will be ready to fight another who is not of the same Belief. One while he assaults her with a brisk Gaiety, at another time by Feigning a Retreat he hopes to draw her after him, and to take her by Surprise. But if these Arts fail, he attempts to melt her into Compassion by Sighing, Languishing, or by writing passionate and dying Letters. He fancies her to be all Angelical; a knot of Ribbond, a lock of Hair, or any such like Excrement, is a thing of inestimable Value, and has a Virtue more than Magnetic. In short, by these and a thousand other such Love Stories, he hopes to win her Favour, and when he thinks he is upon the point of taking Possession, all is blasted by one coy Look; and a Frown is able to calcine him into Dust. Then with Tears, and with a vile and humble Submission he lies prostrate at her Feet, and will die unless she lend him a Smile, which is sufficient to recall him to Life again, and then he acts over all his former Follies. But all this is nothing to the Miseries which a passionate Lover suffers in his Mind: One while he is intoxicated with Hope, by and by he is cast down with Fear: This Hour he is in a burning Fit, and nothing but Fever; anon all his Blood is congealed to Ice, and a Trembling seizes upon every Nerve: His Voice fails him, his Countenance grows pale, and he suffers under palpitation of Heart, and desertion of Spirit. One while he storms and rages at his Disappointments, a little after he reputes, and puts on Resolutions of enduring all things with a Stoical Courage, swallowing all Affronts, digesting all Delays, and flattering most when his Heart is ready to burst with inward Anguish and Disdain. Thus he spends his Life betwixt Fancies of Fruition and real Disappointments; he courts the imaginary Graces, and is torn in pieces by real Furies; but above all, the Thoughts of a Rival fill him with a thousand Torments; and here it is that the Conquest shows her greatest Art and Cruelty in putting her Lover upon the Rack: He is tortured at the pleasure of his Mistress, who takes delight to kill him and to revive him, though it be but to show her own Power and Omnipotence, till at length the poor Man grows sottish, Melancholy, and Distracted, he Converses with Solitude and Shades; or if he comes into Company, his Speech is broken and incoherent, talking ever and anon of his dearly Beloved, at a most extravagant and fulsome rate; and by this means renders himself not only Contemptible in the sight of his Mistress, but of his Acquaintance also, and of all Mankind besides, to the great Reproach of his Reputation, and to the utter Ruin of his Health and Fortune. And thus do many Men betray themselves to perpetual Miseries, in Courting that Goddess, which when obtained proves but a Cloud within the Arms, and such a one as is many times made up of nothing but Storms and Thunder. Jealousy is the Canker of Love, like a Canker 'tis bred by too much Fertility of the Soil; it springs from an exuberant Affection, and creeping on by little and little, it never ceases Fretting and gnawing upon the Body, till it withers & dies. Every Man therefore who embarks after Love, ought well to examine the Temper of his own Nature, especially if he be concerned with a celebrated Beauty, for such a one will attract the Eyes and Caresses of all Men, nor is it in the Power of a Woman to hear herself cajoled, and not return some reciproque Smiles, and obliging Regards on him who pays her Honour. The Diamond, though it be the most Beautiful and the hardest of Jewels, will be dessolved, they say, by the warm Blood of a Goat. A lascivious Speech or Touch may make the most adamantine Nature relent and yield. Where Service and Respect are tendered, a Woman may make a suitable return of Acknowledgement without blemish to her Virtue: And yet in him who loves passionately, this is able to beget Suspicion, which always views things at the worst Advantage: For as Courtship and an insinuating Address cannot but incline Nature to be favourable, so the more subtle and refined Gallant doth attaque always in Masquerade, and under the disguise of Urbanity and of a readiness to oblige. Strange was the Jealousy which I have somewhere read in Guicciarden, of an Italian Gentleman who married a very beautiful Woman, and such a one as he himself believed to be most . One Night after he had embraced her with all tenderness of Love imaginable, he told her that one thing troubled the repose and quiet of his Life; for though he had no reason to distrust her Virtue, th●t yet being so extremely Beautiful and Eloquent as she was, he believed she would be solicited, and be persuaded by another's Love, in case he died before her; nor could he endure to think that any other Person should ever enjoy so fair a Creature. To prevent all which, he told her that he had provided an Expedient, and forthwith drawing out a Dagger which lay concealed behind the Pillow, as he embraced her with one Arm, he stabbed her with the other, and then stabbed himself upon her Body. The wretched Husband died immediately, but the unfortunate Lady lived some hours to make a report of this sad Tragedy, and then died also. Hatred is a Passion of the Rational Soul, which how opposite soever it be to the gentler Passion of Love, has its Rise from it: For he that loves a thing with vehemence, doth with as great vehemence hate whatsoever, is destructive of the thing he loves. If therefore our Love be regular and well grounded, our Hatred of what is contrary thereunto will be no less Commendable: But of all sorts of Hatred, that is least allowable which terminates upon the Person, especially when a Man is so fat transported as deliberately to contrive his Ruin; and of this kind we meet with too frequent Examples amongst great Persons and Ministers of State. Calumny is nothing but a more disguised and Artificial Hatred: But of all Calumnies that is the most venomous which seems to be accompanied with some show of Kindness; it licks only that it may have the better advantage to by't. Of this kind, is that of those who shall give a List of the several Virtues of a Person, but in the Close they shall tell you of some ill Quality which defaces all that was said before; and this in all likelihood will gain Belief and Credit with the Hearer, forasmuch as the Relator seems to be very well affected towards the Party of whom he speaks. Others there are who attribute all the praise of a good Action to Fortune, or diminish from its Worth, either by a silent Shrug, or by comparing it with that of some Person of greater Excellency, in respect whereof 'twill appear very Diminutive and Inconsiderable. There is a Detractor who seems much to lament the Failings and Imperfections of him he intends to traduce: Have you heard, says he, what a Disgrace is fallen to such a Man? I am hearty sorry for it, in troth, for I had a great Kindness for him, and I will tell it you as being my particular Friend, upon Condition you will keep it secret. Now the Knave by this means doth not only take away all suspicion of Hatred, and so makes the Report to seem more True and Impartial; but by enjoining Secrecy, he begets a greater Curiosity in the Person he speaks to, to inquire into it, and makes him more uneasy till he has revealed it to others under the like Seal of Secrecy, and thus at length it comes to be whispered every where, without any possibility of ever tracing out the Original of the Rumour. As Jealousy is the worst part of Love, so is Envy the worst part of Hatred. Hatred has something generous in it, for as much as it dares avow itself to the World, and bids Defiance to the party 'tis offended with: Whereas Envy is Timorous, and consequently Treacherous: For Men envy those only whom they dare not attaque openly, and such as are above them upon some account or other, whether of Nature or Fortune: Hence we see that old Folks, deformed Persons, Bastards, with such like Persons as are subject to the Defects of Nature, are most prone to Envy: Also those to whom the World hath been less favourable, are inclinable to envy others who get above them. Likewise Women are more liable to this black Passion than Men, especially when there is matter of Competition, whether it be for Beauty or Bravery. Envy therefore is a tacit Indignation of the Mind towards those whom we believe to enjoy more good Things than they do deserve. Now the things which properly kindle this Passion, are not the Goods of the Mind, for we do not say that such a one is unworthy to be Just, or Temperate, and soforth, but they are the Goods of Nature, and of Fortune, as Beauty, Strength, Honour, Riches, Preferments, and the like. We are apt to be moved with great Indignation, and sometimes not unjustly too, when we see Men rise to great Place without Industry or Merit, but merely by Flattery, Corruption, or some such base Means; so that generally speaking, all sudden Translations from a low to a high state of Life, whether by ways Honest or Dishonest, do naturally move us to Envy, which doth seldom or never disquiet us when we look on those who have for some time enjoyed the Favours of Fortune; Time and Possession seeming to give them a just Title: So that Envy in its own Nature doth imply Imbecility as well as Malignity; but the greatest Mischief which it works, is commonly on the Party itself in whom it Reigns; for it never ceases to Torment and Prey upon him, till like a Viper it at length gnaws through the Bowels in which 'twas bred. Emulation seems to have some Analogy with Envy, but it differs in reality from it, for as much as Envy is an Indignation against another merely because he possesses something which is good: But Emulation doth not so much envy another the Good he enjoys, but is rather angry with itself, because it cannot arrive to the like: Upon which account it kindles in us many Virtuous Actions to obtain the same; so that those who are subject to Emulation, are generally young Men of great Hopes and Spirit, and such as are Endued with many noble Qualities. Desire and Aversion are Branches of Love and Hatred, and both of them imply the Absence of their Object: Desire being nothing but an Inclination or Tendency of the Will towards something which pleases in Prospect; as on the contrary a Coercion is an Abhorrence or Dislike we have of a thing upon the first Appearance: So that Flight or Aversion do suppose a Man to have never had a feeling of what doth dislike him, for otherwise 'tis Hatred: Whereas Desire may be of something we have once Enjoyed and is now withdrawn, as well as of something we never yet tasted of. As Joy doth always presuppose the Presence of its Object, either in Reality or Imagination; so Desire is a Motion or Passage towards an Object which is not yet obtained, and yet nevertheless Desire is frequently accompanied with Joy, from that Power of the Imagination which many times doth represent the thing as already obtained: Nay this Joy of Desire is sometimes more Affecting than that of Fruition, not only from the small Relish we have usually of things we are actually possessed of, but from the Force of Imagination, which doth show things greater to our Thoughts than they are in Effect. CHAP. XV. Of Hope and Fear, of Presumption and Despair. HOpe and Fear are Passions of the Soul which have their Conversation only with things to come; of which the former is an Apprehension of a future Good, with a Probability of obtaining the same; the later an Apprehension of some future Evil, with a probability of its falling on us; which Evil may be Twofold, either of Sense and Pain, or of being denied something which is in our present Possession, or what we may hereafter enjoy. So that both these Passions always give motion to two other Passions, as their Instruments, viz. Desire and Aversion, or that which the Schools call Flight. If we consider the Persons who are subject to these Passions, we find that Youth is very prone to Hope; those of this Age being Vigorous, and having little or no Experience of Business, or of the Impediments which do cross it, conceive they are able to Conquer any thing they undertake, and this many times without ever adjusting the Means to the end, or balancing the Difficulties with the Possibility of effecting what they do design. Hope therefore in them when it is in the Excess, and beyond all natural Causes for Encouragement, becomes many times Presumption, though we usually call such Persons desperate, but improperly: for Desperation is a Quality diametrically opposite to Presumption; being the desertion of a Design, accompanied with an utter Ruin and Despondency of Spirit. Moreover Presumption acts Spontaneously, Desperation by Constraint. The Romans in their Moneys described Hope under the form of a young Virgin, whose Garment was long, thin, and loosely flying in the Wind, holding a green Herb of three Leaves only in her right Hand, and standing on Tiptoe; all which did amount to this Signification, that she did belong to Youth, that she was Volatile or in Motion, and of a Nature which was ever Verdant, Springing, and rising up on high. Fear is the effect of Pusillanimity, and incident to old Men: For besides that Rest which is natural to that Stage of Life, we find that such from the long Experience they have had of the World, and of the Disappointments they have met with, are very scrupulous in weighing all the Circumstances of Action, and their Nature also being cold, sluggish, and unapt for Execution, they are presently apprehensive of Difficulty and Danger, and by Consequence of Fear. 'Tis true, the Deliberation and Experience of old Age, when it is joined with the Courage of Youth, cannot choose but raise a well grounded Hope; and yet we find Examples sometimes, where Boldness in the Undertaker has supplied Conduct and Counsel. Such was the Undertaking of Charles the 8th. in his Invasion of Italy: He was a Prince but of twenty three years of Age, and therefore of no Experience; He was destitute of Money, for he was forced to borrow a hundred thousand Livers of a Banker of Genoa, before he could march out of France; after that being at Turin, he borrowed the Jewels of the Duchess of Savoy, and at Casal, those of the Marchioness of Monferrat, both which he pawned for Eighty thousand Crowns, all which was spent presently. He was destituted of Men, having but eight Thousand in his Army, and lastly, he was destitute of Counsel, following only the Persuasions of Stephen de Verse, who had been sometimes his Valet de Chambre, and one Brissonet, as obscure a Fellow as the former. In this ridiculous Posture did he March, having no other General in the head of his Army, but his own impetuous and youthful Spirit. All the World stood amazed at his bold Attempt, but they were much more amazed when they saw him entering into Florence, Rome, and Naples, in a Triumphant manner, Routing the Venetians also, with all the Confederate Strength of Italy, in the Battle at Fornova, where three thousand Men lay dead upon the place, with five Princes of the House of Gonzaga; all which was bought with the loss only of thirty or forty French. The Conquest which Alexander made of Asia, was better projected; for he was provided with well disciplined and Veterane Soldiers, with Money, and all other Military Equipage, and yet the Means held no Proportion with the Event. 'Tis true, such early and precocious Blossoms, never arrive to any great Maturity and Growth, and are subject to infinite Hazards, for twenty miscarry for one that succeeds: Nay we find that Necessity and Fear do many times achieve greater things than Hope. Such was the brave Action of Xenophon, who though he were not bred a Soldier, yet with a handful of Men, made his Retreat good against all the Forces of Persia, the Difficulties of unknown Ways, and the Miseries of a Winter's March; and such was the Victory which King Henry the Fifth of England had over the French at Argencourt, where all the Terms of Peace being refused him, and all means of safety cut off, there remained nothing but the certainty of Destruction to give Courage. Courage when 'tis surrounded with inevitable danger, by a kind of Antiperistasis takes heat from cold, and uniting its force turns to Lightning and Thunder. Fear is said to be a betraying of the Succours which Reason offers. Upon this account some are bad Solicitors of Business: they dare not say or contradict any thing, and if they be upon the necessity of making a Request, they do it with so ill a Grace and sneakingly, that by demanding they teach men to deny. Others, as Causin very well observes, are timid in Conversation, and feel a Consternation upon the Approach and Presence of qualified Persons. Their Discourse is without Connexion, their Words are broken, their Voice is trembling, their Colour changing, and their Countenance shrunken and dejected. This happens oftentimes to Young People, those especially who are of little Experience, and timerously Educated, and yet in such 'tis for the most part no more than bashfulness, and will wear off upon advance of years; though we may observe sometimes that Men of Parts and Courage, when they happen into the Company of others, who are of more Eminent Worth than themselves, feel a damp upon their Spirits, and upon the sudden turn Cravens. This was that which the Egyptian Augur endeavoured to make Marcus Antonius believe, that though he was daring and brave enough, yet his Genius became degenerate and impotent whilst Ostavian looked upon him; and therefore he advised Antonius to quit Rome, and all occasions of seeing him; though 'tis probable this fancy was laid hold of by Cleopatra, that she might make her Paramour the more willing to continue with her. It hath been observed that great Assemblies have been apt to raise a fear in Men of greatest Abilities. Cicero who moved and turned the most August Audience of the World, with the volubility of his Tongue, trembled always and was pale when he began his Harangues. The great Importance of the business which did depend upon his management, might probably cause his Fear. Demosthenes is said to have had the like defects, and had scarce power to raise his Spirits. Boldness of Speech must be confessed many times to be of great force in Popular Assemblies, for the empty Vessel will make the greatest sound; we may observe of many how they begin like Thunder, seeming as it were to swell with Ostentation, and Triumph in the Pomp and Tours of their Orations, and yet in reality their Notions are generally very trivial, being set off with Gest and Twang; whosoever therefore is bashful and of a timid Address, and yet carries the Cause, must be acknowledged to be a Person of singular Abilities; and such a one was Pericles, who Laboured always under much Confusion when he began to speak in Public, fearing lest any Impropriety of Phrase might slip, or any word be misplaced, and yet Pericles was one of the most absolute Orators Athens ever produced. At this day the greatest Preachers beyond Sea, are in greatest dread when they are to Preach before a Convent of Nuns; for such Religious Women being generally Persons of an Ingenuous Education, and employing much of their time in Reading, become mighty Critics of Language, and (according to the humour of their Sex) stand more upon the Delicacies and Punctilios of Words, with Elegancy of Expression, than upon pertinent and solid Notions. Fear as it is the most Slavish, so is it the most Commanding Passion of the Soul. Hope, as I said before, does raise itself upon the prospect of Fruition and Rewards, but Fear's incite us upon the apprehension of loss and pain: Now the apprehensions of Pain being far more quick and lasting than those of Reward (for Good is scarce perceivable in the very Fruition) it follows Naturally that Men are far more apt to be biased by the former than by the later. 'Tis painful to endure, 'twill deprive you of Liberty, and of all Worldly Enjoyments, 'twill destroy your Health & Life, are Motives far more pathetic and prevailing, than to say, it 'twill make you Rich, 'tis Reputable, 'twill make your Name famous to Posterity. And upon this account I am persuaded, that the Gallows makes more Men honest than all the Moral Lectures or Considerations of Credit and Fortune whatsoever; where a good Action may Entitle a Man to certain loss, some there are indeed but not many of that Metal, who will Embrace the later, for the Reputation which attends the former. Fear which is destitute of all Hope turns to Desperation; and here the Necessity does many times put Men upon very extraordinary and hazardous Attempts. 'Tis not safe therefore to force an Adversary to the Walls. There is scarce an Animal so fearful but will turn again when all ways of flight are stopped; and the bitings of dying Creatures we know are not without Venom. CHAP. XVI. Of Joy and Sorrow. AS Hope and Fear follow Desire and Aversion, so Joy and Sorrow follow Hope and Fear; all the former Passions of which I have hitherto discoursed, seem to fix in these two as the ultimate Scope and Consummation of all their Motions. Joy therefore is nothing but a diffusion or dilatation of the Spirits upon the fruition of what it did hope for and desire; as Sorrow is a Contraction or Fixedness of the same Spirits, upon the arrival of something for which Nature hath a Fear and Aversion: This is very visible from the Circumstances of those who are affected with these Passions. And first for Joy, we see it is expressed by a cheerfulness and vivacity of Countenance, by sudden and pleasing Vibrations of the Eyes, by a readiness in a Tongue to deliver the Thoughts of the Heart, but strangled in the Utterance by too great an Inundation of tenderness. In short, the Body is lightsome, the Heart gay, and the whole Man seems to be nothing but Soul and Exultation. 'Tis true, such vehement and sudden Alterations of Nature as these are not usual, nor are they without danger sometimes. 'Tis known how Sophocles contending with another of his own Profession in an Argument of Tragedy, was in great suspense and fear of the Event; but at length the Victory being adjudged to him by the Applause and Cries of the whole Theatre, he died immediately with joy. Such was the Fate of a Young Woman lately in France, who after many Difficulties at last obtained her Parents consent of Marrying one she had a long time Loved; but being to sign the Instrument of Contract, she had no sooner writ the first Letter of her Name, but with Excess of Joy she immediately swooned, nor could she ever be recalled to Life again. Effects of this kind are not rare, and of which the Reason's this, Joy as I said before is nothing but a diffussion of the Spirits, so strong and vehement indeed, that it seems to carry away the Soul with it, and endeavours to break as it were the Prison of the Body. By this means the Heart which is the Seat of the Vital Spirits, and the Centre of Life, is left abandoned and destitute of strength, so that the Spirits not being able suddenly to recollect themselves, and to return to their former Station, there follows presently a deficiency of Heart, which concludes sometimes in a total Expiration. Great Joy is uncapable of Moderation, especially in Persons of weak Capacities, for People in these Circumstances give themselves all the Liberty in the World: Their Joy many times overflows with such fond Repetitons, and with such a perpetual Torrent of Babble and Impertinence, as shows sufficiently that the Mind is in some Disorder and besides itself. To sudden and exuberant Joy there many times succeeds great Pensiveness, by reason of great Expense and Perspiration of the Spirits which do accompany it; like the Heart from whence it springs, as it has its Diastole or dilative Faculty, so has it its Systole or Time for Contraction. There is another sort of Joy which is more sedate, and consequently more lasting, and such is that which results from a a reflection upon the courses of a Virtuous life. This kind of Delight is more Natural to Religious and Persons who are addicted to Contemplation, and generally to all those who confine their Appetite within the narrow Limits of Retreat; not but that I believe Men of Business are capable of them, such as were Seneca, Boethius, and some others: Nay the benefit which the Public reaps from their Actions, cannot but augment their Content; Nevertheless Morally speaking, as the great Temptations which lie before their Eyes, whether of Corruption or of Ambition, will not suffer them to use the Means; so where they are Men of Integrity, the great hurry and distraction which attends their Life, will not suffer them to collect the fruits of those delights I am now discoursing of: For as for Honour, Command, Riches, and the like, they do not belong to the Blessings of the Mind, but of Fortune, and are found more frequently to be the Rewards of those who trouble the Government, than of others who really endeavour to serve it. Sorrow or Dolour is an Affection which as to its Moral Nature, is nothing but an act of the Mind, reflecting upon some Evil as already happened beyond Remedy; and this may be either upon the account of some Good we are actually deprived of, or of some Evil we actually suffer; But if we consider this Passion as to its Natural Cause, the Notion we have of it is this: The resentment of the Mind for any loss, especially when there is no Prospect of Relief, begets Languor and Dejection; for the Vital Spirits or Blood retiring to the Heart, by reason of too much Oppletion do suffocate and strangle that Noble Organ, whilst the outward Parts being robbed of their Natural heat, become weak and seeble. Nature many times to deliver itself from this Oppression summons up all its strength, as appears from those violent Concussions the Body suffers by Sighs and Tears, by beating of the Breast, wring of the Hands, with such like Symptoms as do demonstrate a great Agony and Perturbation. And yet upon occasion of Extraordinary Grief, we find sometimes very little or no external Commotion, for in such cases all the Faculties of Nature seem stupefied and totally extinct. I have heard of one who took the loss of his only Child which he loved most tenderly with great silence, who yet upon the Report of a Servants death, for whom he had but a small or no Concern, burst forth presently into Tears: he seeming in this particular to be like a Vessel filled with Water to the Brim, which upon the least Infusion of any new load immediately runs over. There is a difference betwixt Grief and Sadness; it is Sadness when we have a Prospect of the Evil to come, but Grief when the Evil is actually upon us. As Joy is not without its Clouds of Sorrow, So Sorrow is not without its lucid Intervals: at least any dawnings of Comfort affect the Person very much, who is the Subject of Sadness. One who has for a long time pined under a dangerous Distemper, is more affected with the smallest returns of Convalescence, than another who does pass his Life in a Prosperous course of Health. As Spring naturally follows Winter, so the smallest refreshments of the one, are made far more sensible by the smartness and tediousness of the other. Upon which account the wisest of Men have ever studied to set off their Delights by a voluntary search of something that was painful and laborious, and he seemed to be something more than a Heathen or a Philosopher, who having spent a whole day without any trouble or disaster, began to be sorrowful, and to expostulate the Gods for his Misfortunes, as believing that so great a Felicity must inevitably be allayed with some remarkable Disaster. Sorrow which is occasioned from the sense we have of another's Misfortunes, is called Pity or Compassion, which always implys Love. This though it be a Commendable Quality, as being founded in Humanity and good Nature, yet to be too much overcome by it argues Weakness: For he who is touched with every Man's Calamity, will never want occasion to afflict himself, and to make his Life miserable. Persons who are placed in the Extremities of Fortune are said to be very unapt to be Compassionate, and they are of two sorts. First, Those who live in the height of Prosperity; for they think themselves exempted from the Calamities which fall usually upon other Men, so that they can have no sense of that which they never felt, nor which they believe they shall never feel; as being out of all appearance of being reduced to the same Terms of Misery. The other sort of Men who are destitute of Compassion, are those who are overwhelmed with Calamities; they think their own hard Fate is sufficient for them to bewail; nay they rather take Comfort to themselves, when they meet with others who are Companions with them in the same distress. They then who are in the middle Region of Fortune are most prone to this Passion, and they are either such who have sometimes suffered the same Disasters they condole in others, or such as fear at least to be in a possibility of falling into the same themselves. The Motives which excite this Tenderness are usually two: either the Consideration of some heavy and unusual Calamity which falls upon another, or a Consideration of some unjust Punishment inflicted upon an Innocent Person: for as for those who are Criminals or of an Infamous and lewd Life, we little regard their sufferings. CHAP. XVII. Of Anger and Mildness. ANger like the other Passions, according to the several Objects and Degrees of Provocation, may be either Good or Evil. First then we ought to have regard to the Nature of the Provocation, which may be small or none in respect of the Persons who give it: For if it be not accompanied with a Malicious Intention, or if it be given by such as are destitute of Sense and Understanding, we ought to make little account of it: hence it is that we are not much concerned at the Distasteful and Opprobrious Words of Old men, Madmen, Women, Children, Sick People, and the like; because such Persons have either really a less share of Reason than others, or else being under Distempers or Defects of Nature, their Reason is in a great measure extinguished, so that they deserve our Pity rather than our Indignation. In the next place the Provocation may be very inconsiderable in respect of the thing itself, and upon this account it is, that the greater part of Mankind are really Fools or Madmen, such viz. who upon every little Trifle fly out into Passion and Complaint. This Lady because her Woman by leaving the door open let out the little Dog, frets and laments her Unhappiness, Crying out that never any one was plagued with such Servants. That Gentleman because his Man brings his Perrique when he calls for his Cravat, falls a Cursing and Swearing at him, and perhaps Reforms him with a Kick. The misplacing a pair of Gloves, or a Key or some such trifle, is sufficient to make many to bemoan their Misfortune and the Tediousness of Life. In the last place the Provocation may be considerable, and yet our Anger become vicious by too vehement a Transport▪ This makes the most Beautiful Features to appear Deformed, it makes the Veins to swell with Poison: 'Tis this ferments the whole Mass of Blood into a Fever, and strains every Vein with Vengeance. Morally speaking, a Man may and aught to resent a deliberate and wounding Injury. He who patiently suffers one, 'twill not be long before he rececive another: For malicious Men (and such make up the greater part of Mankind) will still Assault where they find the least Resistance, and he who is only Eminent for Passive Fortitude, will not only be esteemed a Coward which is the greatest Obstacle to any glorious Action; but by being that Tame-fowl, from which every one may pluck Feathers, he will at length be made Naked and Miserable, and be Obnoxious to perpetual Torment of Life. To prevent which Mischiefs, a Man ought sometimes to chastise an Injury, yet so as not to run out of the Pale and Circles of Reason, by yielding up himself to the Indiscretion of the Furies. In this Case an Enemy has a double Revenge upon him, for besides the Injury he offers him, he cannot but take Pleasure to see him foaming at the Mouth, to behold him Raging with Indignation, and as much as possible to turn his own Executioner, so that the Stoics were much in the right, that the Evil which a Man does create to himself by Anger, is much more hurtful to him than the Injury which he receives from another. He therefore who can command his Passion, does not only procure great ease to his own Merit and Spirits, but gives a Wound also to his Adversary, who is then most afflicted when he finds that he makes the least Impression: for he levels his Arrows against an Impenetrable Rock, by which they are shivered to pieces, without other damage save that the Splinters are many times repelled back upon his own Face who shot them. Pyrrhus the famous Fencing-Master of old, when any Scholars came to learn his Art, proposed this to them for their first Lesson, viz. To Combat and subdue their own Anger, giving them this Reason: For Anger, says he, looks only where to strike, but not where to defend. Every good Swords-man will play always to a Guard, that so his Weapon may be ever in a posture to save him, though he miss his blow. The truth of it is, an Angry Man as he is the most uncapable of all others to defend himself, so is he for the most part very unable to offend another; for breathing nothing but present revenge, he has no leisure to think of the most suitable means for it, or to respite the Execution to a convenient Time. Moreover by discovering his Intentions by Menaces, he gives his Adversary notice to provide himself. As Anger formed into Choler is most disadvantageous to the Person in whom it rages, so does it render him also more ugly and deformed in the sight of the beholder than any other Passion whatsoever. His Eyes like those of a Serpent are Red and Fiery: his Countenance either Pale, or Flaming, his Lips are foaming, trembling and livid; his Voice shrill, his Words inarticulate, and his Speech abrupt. He smites his Hands one against the other, and the Ground with his Feet. In a word, all the Features and Airs of his Countenance are miserably defaced, all the Motions of his Body are undecent, and all the Thoughts of his Soul Brutish and Savage; so that as a Man can never fall into these Fits without great Torment to himself and loss of Reputation, so let it be observed also, that these Fits never go off from a Man, but they leave him miserably drooping and dejected. This High-Tide has a Low-Ebb ever succeeding it: For th● Spirits having spent themselves in those vaporous and fuming Exhalations there follows nothing but Lassitude and Cowardlike Disposition, in so much that the nicking time to fall upon a Man is immediately when his Choler is over. As old Age and Sickness do very much incline to Choler, so also does overmuch Fasting: It may Mortify other Vices, but it feeds this: For we may observe how that the same Man who at another Time would be all pleasant and good humoured, has a kind of Acrimony and Eagerness upon his Spirits, and is most impatient under the sharp hazards of Thirst and Hunger. There is no coming near a hungry Lion, which when full can hardly be provoked. Those therefore who have known themselves liable to this Infirmity, and when they have been to enter upon any disquieting business, have looked upon it always as the best expedient to replenish themselves to satiety beforehand, that so their Spirits might have something to feed and fasten on. This may serve as an Antidote and for Prevention, but in Case a Man shall actually be exasperated, the best Remedy is to suppress the inward Commotion as much as possible, or to give the Distemper an easy Vent, and 'twill wear away by degrees. His Conceit was not unpleasant, who being asked by another that was over subject to Anger, by what means it might be Cured, sent a Bottle of Water with assurance, that by holding some of it in his Mouth one quarter of an hour, it would have a good and infallible effect. The Party tries it and finds it true, and being very solicitous to know its Composition, his Doctor told him smilingly; that 'twas not from any Virtue in the Water, which was only Common and Elementary, but from the Silence and the Compression of the Mouth, which did accompany the taking: For by that little cessation Anger was Precipitated, and Reason in a great measure restored. 'Tis Remarkable what is Reported of Theodosius the Emperor, who upon an Affront which he received by the Inhabitants of Antioch in pulling down the Statue of the Empress Placilla, gave Order to his Officers to take a most severe Revenge. Upon the point of Execution one Macedonius an old Hermit, who Inhabited in the Mountains, and a Man very mean for Personage and half Naked, but of great Sanctity, speaks to them after this manner: Go, pray, and tell the Emperor who sent you; that as he is an Emperor, so also that he is a Man: therefore let him not look altogether at the former, but let him cast his thoughts a little towards the later and consider; that as he is a Man, he does rule others who are partakers of the same Nature with himself; let him consider also, that Man is formed after the Image of God, and that the Indignity offered to the Image, does by reflection fall upon him that Made it; so that if he had reason to be incensed for the Indignity offered to the Statue of his deceased Wife, much greater reason will God have to be incensed at the Injury which shall be done to his own Image; let him also Consider the vast difference that is betwixt a living Image and one of Brass, as also that it was in their Power to make a thousand Statues in the place of that one which was defaced, but that it was not in the Power of the Emperor, nor of any Mortal man breathing to make a Hair of the Head, much less to restore Life to any one who should die by his rash Decree: All which being Reported to the Emperor, his Anger was appeased, and changing his Resolution he received all to Mercy. The bravest Hero's of the World have been ever those who could subdue their own Anger. Hannibal was a bold and brave General, but withal Bloody and Cruel, whereas Scipio who overcame him would by no means hearken to the suggestions of Revenge, which might have prompted him indeed to have turned his Arms immediately against his Enemy, but by a vast Conduct he transferred the same into Africa, and was so slow in all his Marches, that some stick not to Reproach him with Sloth and Cowardice, and yet by this diversion he both preserved his Country in forcing Hannibal to follow him, and in the end totally Defeated the Carthaginians. Lucius, Sylla and Catiline, were men of undaunted Souls, and made up of Fury; they valued not being hated, so they might be but feared, nor cared they to sacrifice all Mankind to Revenge, and to bury the World in Ruins, so it might help Ambition into the Throne, which though they failed of, yet they obtained their Ends, I mean their own Destruction; whereas Julius Caesar and Augustus no less Ambitious than the former, carried all before them, for besides their Martial Prowess they were men of great Clemency, and so obtained to the Empire of the World by that which they had over their own Wills and Passions. They were always in a Condition to take Counsel, and to choose the fittest means, Conquering more by their Courtesy than by their Swords: For it was observed by Caesar, that he measured his Bounty ever by his Victory, ex qua nihil sibi vindicavit nisi dispensandi potestatem. The Injuries which Men generally resent most, are either such as concern, First, their Persons; 2ly. Their Estates, or lastly their Reputation, any one of which is sufficient to impress Nature with a vindicative Inclination, especially when there is some Salt of Wit mixed with it, such as carries a show of Contempt, than which nothing can be more piquant and stinging. And yet some brave Men have had that Ascendent over themselves, as really not to be concerned for such Affronts: which calls to my Remembrance the behaviour of that brave General, I mean the late famous Marshal of France, Monsieur de Turenne, who passing along one of the Streets of Paris, his Coachman being something careless drove so near upon a Gentleman, that he received some small prejudice by the Dirt that was cast upon him by the Horses: This provoked him to give the Coachman the Bastinade; whereupon Turenne looking out, the People all flocked about him bareheaded, withal telling the Gentleman who it was that he had affronted, and what Punishment he might expect; at which the Gentleman nothing daunted, made his defence by laying the fault upon the Coachman. Such an Affront and especially in France would have obliged a meaner Person than that General, to have taken a severe Revenge, which yet he did not; but without alteration either of Voice or Countenance, he suffered the Person who offered him the Injury to departed, with a Caution only to be more circumspect for the future. And as touching private Persons 'tis good for them upon occasion of Provocation to make it known to the World, that their Patience proceeds not from Cowardice or Pusillanimity, but from real Virtue: For if there be any thing of the former in it, 'twill draw on infinite Injuries. 'Tis better therefore to own a Resentment betimes, than by receiving Continual Provocations to give Encouragement for more without End or Measure; when a Man's Metal therefore is once proved, 'tis Magnanimity not to suffer himself to be beaten out of his Repose by Anger (especially if he be his Inferior who does provoke him) nor indeed will there be such frequent Causes for it. There are two Considerations by which a Man may in a very great Measure allay the Extravagance of this Passion. The one is, by reflecting upon his own Actions for the Time past, and upon the occasions which kindled this Intemperance and Heat: For by this means he will certainly find that generally they were but trivial; that he himself was very much in fault; he had too vain an Opinion of himself, and too mean Thoughts of another: yet the Words and Actions which he himself returned back were greater than the Provocation, and all about nothing, or at the most but some small inconsiderable disgust, which he might have qualified with very small address, or at least, that it could never put him in such Disorder should the like occasion ever happen again. And then let him be assured also, that whatsoever seems troublesome to him at the present, will after the Expiration of a few days appear altogether as Foolish and Irrational as any little past disgust; and thus by rating things present by what is past; he will be able to discern what Measures to take, there being the same Reason and Proportion in both. Another Consideration upon which a Man may be drawn to moderate his Anger, is for him to view himself in the behaviour of other Men under the same Circumstances, and there he will easily see how Extravagant most Men are under such Disorders, which his own Treacherous Fancy will not suffer him to Consider in himself. As for Revenge, it is not a Species of Anger, but the Execution of a Design which Anger had premeditated and formed: If it be Prosecuted by the hand of a Public Magistrate, it is not so much Revenge as Justice; if it be done by open force with respect to the foregoing Injury, it is simple Vindication only, which may be more or less Evil according to the several degrees of Provocation; but if it be done openly with show of Pleasure and Content, 'tis Cruelty: and if it be done secretly and under a disguise, 'tis Treachery. CHAP. XVIII. Of the Intellectual Operations. FRom the Will and Passions proceed we to the other Capacity in which the Blessings of the Mind principally consist, as being the Noblest Faculty of the Soul, the Understanding. The Gifts and Properties which I have hitherto Discoursed of, are in a great measure common to Beasts: They have Sense and Memory many of them in very great Perfection; they are Capable of Love, Jealousy, Anger, Revenge and Fear, etc. as well as Men, and are excited hereunto, as most Men are, by a kind of Impetus from the Images, which several Objects draw upon the Imagination. Nay there are many Instances to prove that they have a Power of Election and Rejection; but for Intellectual Gifts they are of a Sublimer Nature: For by these Men are in a great Measure qualified with the Perfections of Incorporeal Substances. The Understanding has the vast World for its Object; it searches into the Nature of every thing from the dark Centre of the Earth to the highest Heavens; it inquires into the Motion, Native Form, Dimensions and Effects of those Glorious Luminaries: It stands upon the Convex of the World, and looks into that vast Abyss or Expanse of Imaginary Space which surrounds whatsoever is finite, and is itself immensurable: it follows Angels in their Motions till it arrives with them to that first Pure and Eternal Original of all things, the ever Glorious and Immense Creator. Now the Operations of the Understanding are either Solitary, and such as rest barely in a Knowledge of the Nature of things; or else Directive, when like a Sovereign it Commands the Inferior Faculties, and appoints them what to do. 'Tis true, as the case now stands, the Inferior Faculties do for the most part Rebel: they either follow their own Inclinations, or if they do impart them to the Understanding, they do it only as to a Confident not as to a Counsellor. Whereas the Method which Nature does propound is this: When an Object excites the Will, the Will presents it to the Understanding to consider of it, and according as the Understanding makes the Judgement, so the Will proceeds to Execution by the Ministry of such Passions as are conducing thereunto. The Operations of the Understanding are infinitely more Sublime and Perfect than those of the Will, not only for their Spirituality, and for the Greatness and Variety of their Objects, but also for the Tranquillity which goes along with them. The Will cannot act without great Perturbation and Conflict of Passions; but the Acts of the Understanding are retired and without Noise, though they be not without Difficulty, Considering the fallacious Informations we have of things. They are reduced to these three general Heads. First, Science. Secondly, Contemplation. Thirdly, Judgement. The first consists in a particular Disquisition of the Nature of things. The Second in a more Confused and Universal Survey of Nature, the last in guiding the Will and Passions in the Affairs of Life. CHAP. XIX. Of Science. SCience is of two sorts. First, Philosophical which consists in a Theory of the Nature of things Considered purely in themselves; for Example, of the Heavens, of the Elements, of the Production of Meteors, of Winds, Earthquakes, Plants and Minerals, and, in a word, of whatsoever else comes within the Region of Nature. A Second Branch of Science is that which is called Logical, or Ratiocination, being nothing but an Art of proving one thing from another by such suitable Mediums as are apt to win upon the Mind and Reason of the Hearer. And first for Philosophy plain and Obvious as the Principles of Nature seem or aught to be; so it is, that all our Errors and Misapprehensions of things, are reduced to this one Ground and Fundamental Error, viz. our Ignorance of their first Causes: Witness that great Diversity and Extravagance of Opinions touching the Original matter of all Sublunary Bodies. Thales the Milesian, Pindar, and the Egyptian Priests would have it to be Water: Anaximenes affirmed it to be Air: Parmenides and the Stoics are for Fire: Pythagoras resolved all things into Numbers, Empedocles into the four Elements; Plato into God and Matter, the Peripatetics into Matter and Form; and last of all Epicurus and Democritus held that the four Elements, together with all the variety of mixed Bodies, were derived from the Fortuitous Conflux of numberless Atoms, all which being of divers Figures, after a long and impetuous Fermentation, met at last into one Mass or Globe of Matter. From this Obscurity of the first Original of things, it happens that even the plainest Informations of Sense, which are as it were the Foundations of all our Knowledge, become very intricate and desputable upon a strict and subtle research of Reason: what's more obvious to our Senses than Quantity, yet what's more imperceptible to our Understanding than Extension, or the Composition of continuance: for either it is divisible into infinite Parts, or into finite only; if into infinite Parts then must it contain infinite Parts, but for the finite Quantity of an Inch for Instance, to contain infinite Parts is impossible. If we say it is divisible only into finite Parts; let us suppose for Example the whole Number of Minute Parts or Atoms into which a Line of an Inch may be divided, to amount to one thousand: Now let us inquire of the first, second or third Parts, and so of the rest, whether they possess the same Individual Space or no? and if any two of them do possess the same individual Space, then can they make no Extension, and consequently the second and third, as also the third and fourth Parts, and so the rest of them can make no Extension, which destroys the Hypothesis. But if any two Parts as A. and B. for instance, touching one another possess a larger Space than either of them severally, then 'tis plain that some part of B. does not touch A. and consequently B. and so the rest may be subdivided into other minute Parts (contrary to the Hypothesis) viz. those by which they touch, and those by which they do not touch, which Subdivision may be Multiplied in infinitum; since we can never resolve the Composition into that definite Number of Parts, concerning which the same Difficulty will not return as at the beginning: From all which these Absurdities will seem to follow; first that an Inch is as long as an Ell, or a Part as big as the Whole, since both are Eternally divisible into infinite Parts. Secondly, That the Finger or Needle of a Watch which moves the breadth of a Barley Corn, and a Ship which sails a League in the same space of an hour, move both of them with equal Swiftness, since the breadth of a Barley Corn is divisible into as may Parts as the length of a League, and there being the same common Measure of an hour for both these Motions, they must be equally swift; for things are said to be equally swift when they measure equal Parts of Space in equal Parts of Time. Upon such like Subtleties as these it was, that a Philosopher undertook to prove there was no Motion, Arguing thus; Whatsoever moves, moves either in the place in which it is, or in the place in which 'tis not: not the the later, for Motion is in the thing moved, which cannot at the same Time be in the place in which 'tis not, without a Contradiction; nor yet the former, for Motion is a Transition from one place to another, which cannot be whilst the Body remains still in the same inidvidual Circumscription of Space; but the Sophister having a Bone put out of Joint, was made sensible of his Fallacy as well as of his Pain, when the Surgeon told him, the Bone was not out of its place, for either 'twas put out of the place in which it was, or out of the place in which it was not; not the former, for nothing can be out of the place in which it is; nor yet the later, no more than a Man can be said to be put out of Rome where he never was. Again, what's more Universally diffusive and obvious than Light, yet what's more difficult to be understood, viz. whether it be something or nothing? It cannot be an Accident according to the Notion of Aristotle's Philosophy: For either the same Numerical Light which was in the Sun, is derived to us by way of migration which this Philosophy explodes, or else there are so many new Generations, as there are Points of Space in that vast Tract of Aether, which lies betwixt the Sun and us, both which ways of Propagation are utterly inconsistent with that Swiftness of Motion by which the Light is conveyed to us, some hundred thousand Miles in an Instant. Besides, the Sun Beams being either refracted or reflected from a Glass do generate Fire, and therefore must challenge the Nature of a Substance, for no Accident can acquire the Nature and Property of a Substance by Condensation. But if we say that Light is a Substance, the same Difficulty will still return concerning the imperceptible Time, in which 'tis propagated so many thousand Miles: We shall be at a loss also to understand how the Sun by such a continual Communication of its Substance over so vast a Sphere should not be diminished; also, why upon the Sun's Setting the same Substance does not continue visible; also being Material how it can possess the place of other Substance without Penetration, with infinite other Impossibilities which follow what way soever Reason turns itself. The same Difficulties also occur in our Enquiry into the Nature of Colours, of Visionary Images, and the like. In the last place for Sensation, we generally describe it to be the Impression which an Object makes of its Image or Species upon the Nerves where by the Administration of the Animal Spirits, it is conveyed to the Brain or Common Storehouse of the Senses. This at first sight seems plausible enough to describe the manner by which these Operations are made; and yet upon a closer pursuance of Reason, 'twill appear to be nothing but Juggling and Jingle; For if we inquire how the Impression of Touch, for instance, is made upon the Nerves we are at a puzzle: As for the Modi Entium and such like Terms of Art, they are but Words of Conjuration, which serve only to make the thing more Mysterious and Obscure. Our Sense tells us, whether the thing we touch be hard or soft, hot or cold, moist or dry: Now if Sensation be nothing but an Impression upon the Animal Spirits, I would gladly have a Description of these different Impressions of hard and soft, etc. wherein they do consist; and whether the Spirits thus affected fly immediately to the Brain, or whether they Consign over their Impressions to other Spirits, or these to others, as it were conveying the word from hand to hand till they arrive at length to the last Sentinel of Sense. From all which 'tis Evident, that the further we dive into Nature, the more we are in the Labyrinth. Now if things with which we are so well acquainted, such as Extension, Motion, Colour, Light, Heat, and all the Objects of Sense, all which are looked upon as the first Principles of Nature, and are to be judged consequently so obvious to our Knowledge, as to be understood upon the very Proposal of them, as it is in the Principles of Geometry; I say, if these things be so obscure and inextricable, no wonder if the Observations which we draw from them be many times fallacious, since the Premises naturally are more clear and certain than the Conclusions which are derived from them, and yet how many rare Discoveries in Physic, in the Matkematicks, in Experimental Philosophy, in Husbandry, and in the whole Latitude of Arts and Sciences are deduced from these Beginnings, which shows the Excellency of humane Reason, that with admirable Art and Industry, is able to Erect such great Fabrics upon such uncertain Principles. But besides all this, there is another Branch of Science in which the Sagacity of humane Reason is highly engaged, viz. Ratiocination. It's Method does commence from some known Maxim to which all Men do assent, and from thence by a Rational Progress of Connatural Mediums, we proceed to further Inferences, till at length we arrive to the Mark proposed: I shall give an Example in Divinity; would I prove Man to be a free Agent, I would Argue thus; God is Just, therefore he is Just in the Distribution of his Rewards and Punishments, which cannot be true, unless we have a Power to obtain the Rewards and avoid the Punishments, which also cannot be unless we have a free Power to Act or not to Act. This way of Arguing is demonstrative and direct. Now the same thing may be proved in another Form by the way of Resolution, thus: If the Will be not free, then is it vain to Attempt to do Good or abstain from Evil: If this be granted, the Rewards for the Good to which we are necessitated are undue, as the Punishments inflicted for the Offences we are obliged to commit are also unjust; And Lastly, if this be granted, than God who Rewards the one and Punishes the other must be also unjust; but God is Just, therefore all these Consequences are false; therefore the Will is free. Logic or the Art of Ratiocination has two Parts: The first is called Invention, where the Understanding hunts after such Topics or Mediums as are suitable to prove the Point. The other part of Logic Consists in such a Management of the Mediums as is likely to gain Assent, and this is done by reducing the Matter to some certain Forms of Argument, which we call Syllogisms, by which the Understanding is so drawn by the Links of Reason, that it cannot possibly start away, nor be liable to Error. There is also another Property of Ratiocination, which is to Consider the Condition and Capacity of the Person to whom it makes Application, since the same Topics will not win Belief upon all alike: but this Consideration more properly belongs to Rhetoric, whose Office 'tis to persuade, and which works rather upon the Wills and Passions of Men though not without some Mastery upon their Understanding; hence it is that these two Sciences are near Allied, the one furnishing Matter, the other Ornament for Reason, both which are high Points of Knowledge, and require Men of mature Years to make Profession of them; so that to begin with these Arts in the Instruction of Youth is very Preposterous; for as it has been observed by Learned Men, there being no Ripeness of Understanding in that green Age, all the Precepts of Art will degenerate only into puerile and crude Forms of Sophistry and Cavil. It seldom happens where three or four are in Company, but that they have different Sentiments of the same thing, when yet the Object is indifferently represented to all. All indeed will pretend to the same Light of Reason, and all of them make the same Application of one to the other, so that the same Rule being applied to the same thing, there ought to be the same account of the Measure, but it falls out otherwise, and chief for these four Reasons: The first is Emulation. There are few Persons but take a Pride to display their Feathers, nor can the heat of Conversation be long supported but by banding the Point from one to another. A second Reason is, the Inequality of men's Intellects, which differ according to their several Educations, Temperaments and Ages. Now Truth being nothing but a Conformity of a thing to the Understanding, the Inequality of this Rule must render the Lines which are drawn by it many times very unlike and unequal also. A third Reason is, Prejudice, which is either founded in Affection or Hatred, or in an overvalue of what we are related to, whether they be our Friends, or our Native Country, but above all, the Prejudice we have from Custom and Education seems invincible. A fourth Reason is, Interest, which is of wonderful Influence to bias Men in Matters of mere Belief, witness the several Engagements they lie under from the several Opinions of Religion. The Art and Mastership of Reason consists Principally in these two Points. First, A quick Notion and Apprehension of a thing. Secondly, A Faculty to make the same Notion inteligible to others. As for that desultory Wit which leaps from one thing to another, 'tis not of so great use; it seems to render a Man accomplished, and being Natural to those of Younger years, is taking in Company if it be not managed out of Time, and with Affectation. Some Men are of so happy Parts, that upon any Emergency their Invention will supply them with Matter to enlarge upon, so that they cannot hold, but like a Torrent they let fly to give room to new succeeding Notions; and in this kind we find many Eminent Persons amongst those of the long Robe, as Preachers, Orators, and Lawyers, who though they sometimes deliver themselves in set Harangues, yet those of them are rather Excellent in their way, who can make an Address to any Person or Auditory as occasion does require; which Extemporary Performances are very Charming, especially when delivered by a Person of good Presence and of a twanging Tongue. Nor can a Man make so solid a Judgement of these Performances being obliged to let go what's before him, that he may receive new Informations from the Speaker, whose voluble Tongue flows upon him in fresh utterance, of Sense without pause or respite. Nevertheless such Discourses when they come to be received at leisure by the Eye, are found to be thin, Superficial and without Sinews and Connexion, whereas others who digest their Conceptions by long and continual Meditations, are infinitely more solid and accurate. Phidias was some years in making of a single Statue, but then he wrought for Eternity. CHAP. XX. Of Contemplation. ANother Grand Operation of the Soul is Contemplation, which though it be a Pleasure which is to be found only in Solitude, yet is it not a solitary Pleasure, being accompanied with two other, viz. Health and Tranquillity. They are the two Handmaids of this Mistress, not only for their perpetual Attendance on her, but by reason also of their Virgin Purity and Innocence. All other Delights are adulterate, being for the most part acquired with Expense and Hazards, and such as weaken Nature, and nauseate in the very Fruition; whereas these render the Constitution more Vigorous, and never disaffect the Appetite by any mixture of Bitterness, or by being too Luscious: they are adequate to all the Dimensions of Man, Health being the greatest Felicity of the Body, and Tranquillity the greatest Blessing of the Mind. He who feels himself in an even Temper and enjoys an equal distribution of his Native Heat without pain and languishing; he whose Passions are all appeased, or, what is better, in Subjection: He who is remote from the noise of Business, or from what's more clamorous, the Terrors of an Evil Conscience. He who is at peace with all the world and with himself too; He, I say, is the only Man, who is capable to taste the Pleasures of a Contemplative or rather of an Angelic Life. When the Sea is in Agitation, and when Clouds and Vapours hover over it, the Vices we have are but short, undelightful and obscure; but when all is clear and serene, then is it that the same Sea looks like the Vast Plain of Crystal, there is a lustre in its Surface, and the distant Clouds and Promontories which we see add a Beauty to the Prospect. Contemplation then is an Art of a becalmed Mind, beholding several Objects at once with delight and wonder. Here we see the admirable Order and Oeconomy of Nature in all its Productions and Periods, in all its Seasons and Revolutions: By this we Consider the Celestial Bodies, how they are almost infinite in Beauty, Number and Greatness, how they are wonderful in their Influence, and how they are most Rapid, Regular and perpetual in their Motion. How we may Contemplate the great Variety of Creatures, their several Virtues and Properties, and their mutual Subserviency to one another. We may observe one great Concordance and Harmony which runs through all the Parts of the Universe, and how things inanimate and senseless are most Regular in all their Tendencies, whilst man the Masterpiece of the Creation, is for the most part Brutish in his Desires, Extravagant in his Actions, and many times most miserable in his End. By the help of this Prospect we may observe the various Methods of Providence in Governing the World, in forming Good out of Evil, and in making Circumstances of little Moment to be able to give Birth and Progress to the greatest Actions; we may observe how wicked men for the most part flourish, and how the good are commonly despised and miserable, from which inequalities of Rewards and Punishments in this Life, we are incited, to take a Prospect of another; it being rational to Conclude, That the Just and Supreme Governor of all Things, who has Circumscribed his meanest Creatures with such Laws of Nature as may not be Transgressed, will not be negligent to rectify Disorders of greater Moment, and since he does not do it in this life, it remains that there is another State where Prosperous Impiety shall be Chastised, and a Persecuted Innocence be Crowned. By this Scale of Visibles, Contemplation leads us to some thing that is Invisible, viz. to that Supreme Power which gave the first Being to every Creature, and which is as it were the first Spring which sets the Wheels in Motion: for since no Creature has a Being from itself, but from something else, we must either make an Infinite progress in assigning Efficient Causes, which is impossible, or else ascending by all the Links and Gradations of the Creation, resolve our Enquiry into some one First Cause, which is in itself without Beginning, and consequently must be Infinite, which can be no other than God. Now from the Order, Beauty and Perfection, which we observe in the whole Frame of Creatures, the Contemplative Person has some Dawnings of the Transcendent and Superlative Beauty which is Natural to the Creator. The truth of it is, our humane Weakness, and the dependence we have on Sense, can give us but a faint apprehension of things Immaterial and Invisible: But could we once break through those Clouds which surround the Soul in this State of Imprisonment, I doubt not but that we should find the Lustre of the Divinity to exceed the Brightness of the Sun, by infinite more Degrees than the same Sun Transcends the pale light and Glimmerings of a Glow-worm. Can a Man who was born blind be restored to Sight, with what wonder and delight would he behold that variety of Objects with which Nature is adorned, but when he should consider that all the Beauties which lie before his Eyes, are conveyed to him by the light of the Sun, and that all the Productions and Orient Colours of Nature, receive their Original from its Beams, with what admiration and ravishment, would he endeavour to fix his sight upon this glorious Luminary of the day? Such doubtless will be the surprise of the Soul in relation to the Divine Beauties of its Maker, when it shall be freed from those gross Organs of the Body by which it is now confined. One while 'twill melt with langour and aspiration, by and by 'twill spring forth into Ecstasy, and as it were launch itself towards this Object of Immense Perfection. 'Twill presently forget all these flowery-fading Pleasures it met with in the Body, 'twill plunge itself into the Abyss, where Fruition will not exclude Appetite, because the Faculty will still be enlarged to re-receive greater Measures of untasted Joys, and so by an infinite Progress and Succession of new Beatitudes, 'twill ever advance itself into Perfection, till like a drop of Wine cast into the Ocean, it seems to be made Immense by its Diffusion, and to be rendered Consubstantial with the very Divinity. 'Tis with good reason that the Schoolmen determine the Beatitude of a separate Soul to consist in the new Measures of Knowledge 'twill meet with by looking upon God, who is as it were the Centre of Repose and Rest in which all the Rays of Objects meet, or rather that Mirror in which all the Images of things whether possible or Created, are represented at once without Confusion: For since the noblest Faculty of the Soul, is the Intellect, the Felicity of the Soul must be measured by something which bears a Proportion to this Noblest of Faculties, which can be nothing but Knowledge. Now if it be true, that the Soul in seeing God as in a Mirror, sees all the Images of things both past and future as present to the Divine Mind, what an Infinite variety of Objects must there be to entertain an Illuminated Spirit, all which can never be represented to us under less than an infinite Duration? Such will be the Entertainment of a beautified Soul after Death, and of which we have a foretaste in this life by Contemplation, the effects whereof have been sometimes so dazzling, that many Holy men have Prayed to God to moderate such Favours, the weakness of Nature not being able to sustain the lustre of such Illumination. But these are to be looked upon as the extraordinary Privileges of an Elevated Mind, and such to which Men cannot easily arrive by their Natural Abilities and Strength. CHAP. XXI. Of Judgement. THE last grand Operation of the Soul is Judgement. One who has a Speculation of Things, and of the Methods for effecting of them, may yet want Courage and Address to Execute. No Man therefore can be said to be judicious, who knows not the Art of Management, nor can a Man know this but by actual Experience and a just Application of the several Wheels of Business to one another. Judgement therefore in the Notion I here propose, is nothing but a rational estimation of some End for the attaining whereof we make use of suitable Means, Glorious Actions being ever the productions of Deliberation and Thought. Now Judgement differs from Ratiocination: For first, it considers its Object as invested with the Notion of being good and eligible, and consists in some Moral Action, whereas Ratiocination rests only in the Verity of what's proposed without any relation to Good or Evil: Besides, Ratiocination is a solitary Act of the Understanding only, whereas Judgement is an Act of the Understanding deliberating upon what's proposed to the Will, and directing it in its choice: This therefore must be allowed to be the greatest and Noblest Act of the Soul, even greater than Contemplation, which though it be Conversant about a higher Subject, yet is it but general and confused. It does not weigh things with that exactness and attention, and is beneficial only to the Person who Contemplates; whereas this weighs things against things, and by a minute Consideration of all their Circumstances, makes a Calculation of their Value: It summons up all the Faculties of the Soul, and sets them upon Duty, and like a Sovereign it does Encourage and Control them in their Motions, and in conclusion it is useful to the Public by being the Standard of Justice, and the very Basis upon which all Laws are founded. The Judgement which we make of things Good and Evil is either such as relates to the private use and benefit of him who Judges, or such as relates to the good and welfare of the Public. In relation to a Man's particular Concerns, I give it the Name of Prudence; in relation to the Common good of others, I call it Government. Now such is the State and Condition of Man in this life, that we cannot but consider him as surrounded with an Infinite variety of Objects, clothed in the Colours of Good and Evil, all which the Will either embraces or avoids according to the several bents and propensions of the Passions. Some Men there are indeed (if I may call them Men) who let fly at every thing that occurs to Fancy. Not considering the fatal Consequences to which their Brutish and giddy Appetite does expose them. The enjoyment of a momentary Lust may gratify a present sally of Nature, when the Miseries depending on it are many times perpetual. Others deny themselves in present Enjoyments in order to a future good, which Method though it be prudent and rational, yet if the thing proposed be dishonest and unlawful, the Judgement deviates in the choice of its end, how Cautious and Prudent soever it may be in projecting at the Means. Thus he who rises up early and sits up late, who Travels from place to place, and eats the Bread of Carefulness, that he may obtain his Neighbours Lands by Circumvention and Fraud, or that he may prosecute Revenge upon his Enemy, though he manage his business with never so much Prudence and Circumspection, is really a Fool as well a Knave, since the Pleasure or Profit proposed will never make amends for the trouble he undergoes to arrive to it, much less for the Penance he must endure after the expiration of his Enjoyment. He than is really Prudent who measuring his End by the Rules of Honour and Honesty, and making a just computation of the force of his own Abilities, as also of the discouragements he shall meet with, notwithstanding sets forward upon his Journey, and maugre all the Pleasures which may retard him, and the pains he actually endures, does pursue his Course through all the Wind and Intricacies of Fortune, with a steady Courage, till at length he arrive to that which first gave life to the Undertaking. Now the more remote such an Object is from our view, and the more difficulties there are to struggle with, the more Generous and Heroick is the Enterprise. We drink the bitter Potion with a Gust upon the belief we have that it will procure us Health. And the Soldier, the Mariner, and generally all sorts of Men, each of them endures hardships in his several Course of life, nay they make such hardships to be the Subjects of their choice upon the prospect they have of a durable Enjoyment. Now if Health, Honours and Profit can inspire us with Noble Resolutions, Virtue certainly aught to have as great an Influence upon our Wills, whether we consider the Pleasure which accompanies its Exercise, or the Reward which follows the performance of it. There is another sort of Judgement which the Mind of Man makes of things in relation to the general good of others. This does not consist barely in a knowledge of what is beneficial for Mankind, but it implies a Practice and Execution proportinable to that knowledge which I call Government. This is of two sorts, either Civil which consists in the Institution and Preservation of a Kingdom by wholesome Laws; or else Military which consists in the defence of a Kingdom by strength and force; for as for those who Fight for the Enlargement of Dominion, for Empire and Glory, as did Pompey, Caesar, Alexander and others, how brave soever they may seem to be, they are but more illustrious Robbers, compared to them who engage to defend their Country against a forcible and foreign Invasion. I shall therefore make a more particular description of the Virtues of such a one, I mean a General of an Army, whose charge doubless is the most weighty and Heroic of which humane Nature is capable, being such as does require a constant travel of Body and Mind, a vigorous Intention of every Nerve and Faculty of the Soul, and a perpetual Conversation with danger. What a vast Prospect ought such a one to have of the Expense and Issue of the War, what diligence ought he to show in making his Levies, and what Providence in his Disbursements? At the same time he thinks how he may convey his Provisions from remoter Parts, and how he may intercept, or at least hinder the Recruit of his Enemies; and in order hereunto he thinks with himself what Allies are to be Embraced, what Posts to be secured, and what Instruments are fitted for every Attempt. He Considers what Advantages or Disadvantages may arise from the Wind or Sun, from Hills, Woods or Rivers▪ A small despicable Eminence or Declivity of Ground, is sometimes the safety or the ruin of an Army. He is swift but regular in his Marches, and deliberates how to Entrench himself sometimes in one Form, and sometimes in another, according as the Circumstances of the Place or the Approach of the Enemy do require; but above all before he begin to Fight, he ought to conquer, I mean himself, by not suffering his Thoughts to be discovered by any Transports of Passion, or Alteration of Countenance, taking heed not to lose the Affection of his Army by showing too much Rigour, nor yet their Obedience by too much Easiness and Clemency. He ought to use all Address and Artifice to discover the Counsels of the Enemy, and to conceal his own; his Resolutions must be steady and quick, but withal they must be mature: He must observe every Critical Opportunity of Action, he must use a thousand Stratagems, and all this must be attended with perpetual Watch, Marches, and Fatigues of Hunger and Thirst, of Cold and Heat; besides the Miseries of Sickness, Mutinies, Robberies, with infinite Disorders which follow a Campagne. Now for a Man to sustain the whole Weight and Necessities of an Army upon his own Shoulders, to struggle with all these Difficulties, and at one and the same time to have his Judgement exercised on several Things of greatest Moment, and such as seem destructive of one another, I say all this requires a Soul as well as a Body of vast Abilities: So that the danger of Death, and an actual Engagement in Fight, is really the least part of this Employ. And yet what Art is requisite in drawing up an Army to Battle, conformable to the Advantages of the Place, and the Posture of the Enemy; at the same time he both deliberates and executes, he rallies and divides: He gives Orders in the midst of Noise and Confusion, and many times repels the whole Choice of the Enemy's Forces, and the Flight of his own; by his single Conduct and Valour. In fine, he defies Death itself amidst all it pompous Terrors of Thunder, Smoak, Fire and Blood, amidst Cries and Groans, amidst Noise and Confusion. Now he that does all this and more than this, ought he not to have a Mind of immense Comprehension, ought he not to have a long foresight of all these Circumstances, together with an Elevated, I may say almost, with an Omnipotent Sagacity, by which to take his Measures, amidst such a Complication of Difficulties, and a suitable Courage to Execute? so that if there be any Theatre in Nature, on which Judgement joined with Practice, or Reason with Experience, can display themselves, 'tis here. Such a one was Scipio the Great, who when his Country was at the last Gasp, recovered it to Life again, by defeating four great Generals with their whole Armies, of which one of them had the most Victorious Army, and was himself one of the bravest Generals, the World ever knew, and this in four ranged Battles successively: and not by punic Stratagem, or the Hazards of Fortune, but by open Prowess and Conduct, which made Hannibal confess that he was overcome, not only in Battle, but in the Name, and in the very Military Art and Science. Now if Scipio deserved the name of Great for his Wisdom and Heroick Actions, he deserved that Compellation no less for the benefit derived on Mankind by them: if he who saves a single Person from Death, aught to be remembered by him who receives the Benefit, with eternal Gratitude and Honour, what Altars, what Pyramids must he deserve, who saves Millions of People from Ravage, and turns their Captivity into Triumph? There are yet others who in their little Spheres are beneficial also to the Public, by managing their Actions according to the Measures and Directions of Judgement, as Physicians, whose Practice depends upon a Theory of the Body's Fabric, as also of the Nature of Medicines, together with a just and rational Application of one to the other: But the little Fees of toties quoties by which these Benefits are measured, has something in it which looks mean and sordid. The same also may be said of Lawyers, with this further Abatement only, That by virtue of their Profession, they are obliged to defend the Cause of their Clients, tho' never so Wrong, with all the seeming Arguments of Equity and Reason; by which means Oppression many times triumphs, whilst Innocence is condemned. As for Orators, it is their Business to Commend and to Dispraise, which naturaly runs them into Flattery and Invective; however, in this, as well as in the other Functions of the Bar, 'tis certain that the Professors of them endeavour to insinuate their Usefulness to the Public, by having recourse to all the Topics of Reason, endeavouring also to influence the Lives of men, by proposing Pleasure, Profit, and Honesty, with such like Motives as sway and govern the Passions, which cannot be done, but by a ready and thorough Conception of all things tending thereunto, together with a seasonable and accurate Accommodation of them to all the Circumstances that lie before their Eyes. There is this difference between Art and Judgement: The former employs itself about some Manual Subject only, and is acquired by long Practice and Imitation, and requires Labour of Body. A Watch, a Picture, a House, with such like Mechanic Works as are derived from the Mathematics, may be made exactly, and yet the Workman may understand but little of the Reason of Proportions, in that way as they are taught by Mathematicians. But Judgement has for its Object, something Great, as the Ultimate End of Man, Moral Actions, and the Universal Benefit of Humane Nature: nor does it conform itself to this or that Method, but accommodates the Conceptions, drawn upon the Mind to all the Occurrences of Persons, Place, and Time, and with great Conduct and Patience attempts to bring its Imaginations to a real Existence and Perfection. As for those who rest only in Theorems, and in the Ideas of things, their Operation may be called Design or Projection, but not Judgement: since it offers to effect nothing, and since these Projections many times when they come to be put in Practice, are found very Defective and Dissonant to the Rules of Reason. CHAP. XXII. Of the Goods of Fortune. FRom the Internal Perfections and Endowments of the Mind, pass we on to discourse of the External Gifts and Favours of Fortune, which, though they are infinitely inferior to the former, as to real Worth and Dignity, nevertheless in the Opinion of Men they have the Precedence, and are courted at a higher rate. For such is the prejudice of Custom, and so great are the Defects of our Understanding, that in all our Definitions, or the Judgement we make of things, we take our Estimate from the Superficies or Colour, rather than from what is Solid: For although Merit and Natural Endowments are able to create themselves a good Opinion in those who do converse with them, yet they will hardly gain Respect unless they be well attended. Rich Furniture and Habits, fine Liveries, and a numerous Train, though they have little Affinity with the Virtues and Qualities of the Persons they do belong to, do nevertheless more affect the Eye of the Beholder, and do procure greater Veneration, than all his Personal Endowments, though never so great: Such than are the Goods of Fortune, compared with the othet Gifts of Nature, of which we have hitherto discoursed. Fortune in the Table of Cebes is represented as a Beautiful Woman, standing upon a Globe, and of a Caressing Countenance, but withal Deaf and Blind: about her stand Throngs of Suitors, upon whose Heads she showers down her Gifts promiscuously, viz. Sceptres and Swords, Diadems and Halters, Glory and Infamy, Riches and Poverty, etc. Those on whom the good Gifts fall, give her the Compellation of Good Fortune, but the others of Bad. She is Blind and Deaf, to show her Inability to Discern, and she stands upon the slippery point of a Globe, to show she is Unconstant: the Gifts therefore of Fortune are such, which as for the most part they are not within the reach of Humane Virtue to obtain; so neither is it in the Compass of Humane Power to preserve them, being generally such as these, viz. Birth, Riches, Great Places and Offices, Friends, Reputation and Fame. CHAP. XXIII. Of Birth. I Begin with Birth, which is a Privilege entailed upon Blood, and is no more in a Man's own Power, than the very Act of Nature by which he is generated. Nay Royal Majesty itself, which is the Fountain of Honour, and in a great measure of all the Favours of Fortune, is not able here to supply an Original Defect. 'Tis true it can impress such a Stamp upon a Man, as shall make him capable to derive Nobility to Posterity, but it can cast no Lustre backwards, by making that to be of a Generous Descent, which was Ignobly Born. He therefore who comes into the World with this Tincture on him, has made the Advantage over others, not only upon the account of Precedence and Respect, but in relation also to the further Endearments ' of Fortune. It sets him half way onwards in his Pretensions to Public Employments, and to the Favours of the Court. Let two Men, in all things else of equal Merit, appear upon the Stage, when it is known that one of them is born a Gentleman, the other not, the former will quickly meet with a kind Regard from all, he will find an easy Entrance to their good Opinions, and at the very first Step get that point of Credit, which the other shall not attain to but with much Difficulty and Address; and be his Conduct never so good, he will be forced, in many Rencounters of his Life, to hang down his Head, not without Confusion in his Eyes, and some Dejection of Spirit. Upon this Consideration many Persons who are obscurely born, being advanced to Honour, and Places of Public Trust, endeavour to carry it with a haughty Air, and to overtop that Contempt which the Meanness of their Family might cast upon them. This Method certainly is not good, for whether or no such Deportment be able to suppress Scorn, sure I am it will raise Envy, which is infinitely more pernicious than the former; for those who Despise do seldom Hurt us: besides, Contempt will wear away in time, for though at the first Rise of such a Man, we look upon him as Undeserving, yet being accustomed a little to see him in the same Station, our former Prejudice against him is taken off, and from his constant Possession, we are at length brought over to believe, that he has a Title to his Place: Whereas Pride even in a Person of the greatest Extraction, will be sure to beget Hatred, which in the end will open a Passage to Revenge. We have two Examples in Roman History, relating to this point of Conduct. The first is of Macrinus, who being by Nation a Moor, and by Dignity a Knight, arrived to be one of the Generals of Antoninus Caracalla, whom having caused to be slain, he afterwards by the Favour of the Soldiers, procured himself to be saluted Emperor: Knowing therefore what Prejudice he was exposed to from the Meanness of his Birth, he writes to the Senate in the most submissive Style imaginable. He observed to them, That such as ascended to the Throne by Inheritance, looking upon Empire as their Patrimony, were ofttimes tempted to abuse their Power, and such a one was his immediate Predecessor Antoninus, as was also Comodus; whereas others, who received Authority from the Senate, were under perpetual Obligations of Gratitude. For his own Part, that he was resolved to act nothing without their Advice, calling them his Princes and Counselors; and that he would propose for a Pattern of Government, M. Aurelius, and Pertinax, who were both of them of Private Extraction, concluding withal, That it was much better to give Honour to Posterity by a Glorious Beginning, than by Corrupt Manners and Degenerate Actions, to fully the Lustre derived from our Ancestors. By this Letter he won the Hearts of the Senate, and of all the People, who welcomed the News of his Election with loud Acclamations of Joy, and with Imperial Honours. The other Example of Maximinus, who from a Keeper of in Thrace, after a long Series of Military Commands, was advanced also to the Roman Empire: Knowing therefore that the Obscurity of his Birth, would make him odious to the Senate, he resolved with a Barbarous and Rough Hand to levelly all before him. 'Tis true both these Emperors were murdered by their own Soldiers, nevertheless, the former, though his Reign was short, did by his Modest Demeanour, take off that Reproach which lay upon him from his Birth, whereas the other, by his Imperious and Proud Deportment was execrated by all the World. In later Ages we have not a more remarkable example of good behaviour, than Cardinal Ximenez, who being of base Birth, and a Confessor, became Confessor to Isabel Queen of Castille; afterwards being proposed by the Queen to the Archbishopric of Toledo, with great constancy he refused it, alleging that by the Acceptance of that great Charge, he should purchase the hatred and envy of all the Grands of Spain; hereupon the Queen makes it her request to the Grands themselves, that they would do their endeavours to win him over to accept it. By this retreat Ximenes made the pursuit more hot and eager, till at length he Condescended, upon the assurance which the Grands gave him, of their good opinion of him: In fine, besides that Archbishopric, he was Inquisitor general, and Cardinal, and became the sole great Favourite or Minister of State. 'Tis true most of those who being of low Birth, and are advanced to high Place, like men brought suddenly out of a Dungeon to the open Day become Blind, or rather are like to those who being accustomed always to walk upon the Earth, when they climb to the Pinnacle of some high Tower, all things under them seem very diminutive, whilst they themselves being advanced above their Level, and being not accustomed to stand so high, are giddy in their heads, and are ready every moment to fall down and break their Necks. But for all this, where Persons of mean Extraction join Prudence to their Natural Abilities, they ever prove the bravest Men; for they are upon a necessity to make the greatest Improvements of their Parts, and to use their utmost Industry, being destitute of Money, Family, Friends, and such like advantages, by which other Men of far meaner Virtues, make an easy passage to their Fortunes; so that all the success they can expect must be derived purely from Merit. We have pregnant Examples of this truth in all the Records of Antiquity, not only in Military Persons which are infinite, but in the sagest Men, and in the greatest Wits of the World; so that not only they who had Gygantick Bodies, but those also who had Gygantick Souls, were many of them to be accounted but as Terrae Filij, or Men basely born. And indeed if we have regard to the Names of some of the most renowned Roman Families, such as Cicero, Fabius, Lentulus, Piso, and the like, we may easily guests at their Extraction, that it was from the Plough, and from the Spade. I shall give some few Instances more of the eminent Abilities of Persons meanly born, confining myself to Examples of the last Age, and to such only as lie within the Ecclesiastic Pale. If we travel into Italy we shall find Sixtus 5tus. who was the Son of a Hog-herd, and from a poor obscure Friar, arrived to the Popedom, and really managed matters with that public Spirit and Prudence, as did declare that he had a Soul large as that of the Empire he pretended to. For considering the Shortness of his Reign, he exceeded all that were before or after him; if I should put them altogether, I think I should not speak too wide. If we pass over into Spain, besides Ximenes we have Cardinal Granvel, whose Grandfather was but a blacksmith, or some such base Artisan, yet he by his Wisdom and Integrity acquitted himself with great Applause, through a long Train of Court-employments, and to his dying day preserved himself in the good opinion of his Prince, who was one of the wisest that ever issued out of the house of Austria. If we cross the Pyreneans, and visit France, we have Cardinal Mazarine who was descended of obscure Parents, and was called Mazarine, from the Town Mazara in Sicily, where he was born. He was said to be a Captain of a Company, in the Pope's Guards at Avignon, and coming in the Train of the Nuntio to Paris, he was taken notice of by Richlieu, and so by Degrees became the greatest and the most prosperous Minister of State that ever that Kingdom knew; for as for Richlieu, he had more of Machiavelli in him, nor was his Death lamented by the Prince and People as was that of Mazarine. If we return home into our own Country, since the Reformation, we have that great Prelate Archbishop Laud for an Example, who though he died a violent, did not die an untimely Death, since he obtained Immortality by suffering for the Interest of his Prince, and of the Church, and like John Baptist, was but the Forerunner to his Master's Martyrdom. As for Wolsey his Parts were great, his Power greater, but his Pride greatest which brought him to his Ruin. I have hitherto considered the advantages of Birth with relation to the particular Persons, who are denominated by it. I shall now consider Nobility a little as it is a State and Portion of the Commonwealth. The two greatest Empires at this day extant in the World, viz. the Ottoman, and that of China, allow no Privileges to Birth; for by this means all Men Study by the way of Merit to apply themselves to the service of him, who has the sole Power of distributing Rewards; whereas those who are nobly descended, seem to come into the Word with some Characters of Sovereignty, and will not consequently be over ready to take pains, for that which they are already possessed of, and of which they think they cannot well be deprived. Whether this policy of theirs be good, I shall not dispute; this is certain, that in a defensive War, there cannot be a greater Obligation upon the Subject to make a vigorous Resistance, and to act in Consort with his Prince, than the consideration not only of his own personal Interest, but of the perpetual Interest and Inheritance of his Family being laid at Stake, which happens only where Titles of Honour, and Estates are made hereditary; so that here the Turkish Policy fails, and I doubt not but that the effects would answer it, were the Christians once the Aggressors. But then for Civil discords which may arise within the Bowels of the same Government, 'tis certain that Men will not be inclinable to rebel nor forfeit their present enjoyments, upon hopes of such a future Fortune, which they are sure can never be entailed upon their Offspring. Hence we find few or no Civil Wars in Turkey; subject they are indeed to Mutinies, as are all tyrannic Powers, which are supported by an Army, and this in the Progress of another Age, will in all probability make a gap for the Christians to break in upon them. Governments therefore which are Arbitrary and Tyrannical, as were always the Eastern Monarchies, destroy Nobility, endeavouring to bring all under an absolute subjection and dependence, and to engross all respect and honour to themselves. Also in Democracies Preeminence of Blood is odious, as seeming to qualify Men for a Preeminence of Authority; hence it is that the Gentry are not where in less Esteem and Number th●n amongst the Swissers and the Dutch. The latter indeed have some few ancient Families amongst them, but their Interest is nothing, nor do I know whether they assume to themselves a Power of enobling. If we look into the Athenian Commonwealth of old, we shall find Miltiades, Aristides, Themistocles, and Photion, four of the bravest Men Greece ever produced, all of them to die either in Prison or Banishment by the Command of their ungrateful Citizens, whom they had so often preserved, though for no other Reason but because their extraordinary Services challenged a place of Honour above the rest. In Aristocracies where all things are governed by Senators, as in the Roman Commonwealth of old, and in that of Venice at this present, we shall find the Nobility to be in very great Power and Splendour, but withal much more unsafe, than under a Monarchy; for among so many Equals, there cannot but be strong Emulation and Competition, and if a Man get but ever so little above others, either in Point of Fortune, or by his glorious Actions, he gives occasion for Jealousy, and is in most apparent danger to be ruined. This is evidently the Case of the Venetian Nobility, and if we look into the Roman Commonwealth, we may see Coriolanus, all the three Scipio's, and Cicero, all of them banished ignominiously by that City, which they had so miraculously saved from utter Ruin and Destruction. Nobility therefore is safest under a limited Monarchy, especially where there is a Subordination of lesser Nobles under them, such as in our Language we call Gentlemen, though in the Language of other Countries, these also are styled Noble. These several Degrees or Orders are not only Ornamental but useful to Monarchy, it being observed that they help to break the rage and sury of the Mobile Vulgus, before it can arrive to Majesty. The Rabble or common People which are as it were the main Body of the State, are always apt to envy the Gentry, as the Gentry are always apt to envy the Nobility; so that these two orders, are like two Moles, which keep off the tempestuous Ocean, or at least rebate its force very much before it can arrive to the seat of Empire, which otherwise would lie too open to the wide shocks of the boundless Floods, when any wind of Sedition should blow upon the Unstable Waters But then in case the Nobility should grow too Powerful and Insolent, the Sovereign may have recourse to the inferior Gentry or common People, who will be sure to take Part with him; for Men ever hate those who are immediately above them; by this means the balance will easily be kept even, and the Sovereign Authority be preserved; and this seems to be the Constitution of our English Government. Moreover where the Commonalty is not in some Degree considerable, Monarchy is but precarious as in Poland, where the Nobility or Palatins, are in very great Authority, and the King little more than the best Man amongst them, depending as well in his Government, as in his Election on them, whilst the Nobles trampling on the Common People as on their Slaves, and Vassals, do upon the matters erect so many petty Tyrannies, as there are Palatinats; nor can the King any way relieve them, as being himself tied to the Stake, and allowed to walk only within the Rounds and Circles of his Chain. The Prince therefore who would really preserve his own Authority, ought not to advance the Nobility to too high a Pitch, for than they will eclipse Majesty, and insult over the inferior Subjects; nor yet ought he to let them sink too low, for then the Inferior Subjects, who are most numerous and intractable, will grow insolent towards them, and at length presume to confront Sovereignty. 'Tis best therefore to settle them in the middle Region, subject to their Supreme, yet so as to be able to bridle the Unruly Multitude. There are two ways by which Nobility, and consequently the Royal Power, is much disparaged. The first is, When Titles of Honour are prostituted for Money, or conferred upon Mean, Unqualified Persons, as Tradesmen, Artisans, rich Countrymen, or such whose Professions or Study no way suit with the Obligations of Knighthood. Another way of debasing Nobility, is when every Bumpkin, or petty-Fogger, or mean Mechanic shall usurp the Style of Gentleman, and perhaps the Coat of some Famimily of the same Name; by which means Honour, which is one of the greatest Rewards, by which Kings keep their Subjects in Dependence on them, by being common, becomes contemptible, and there will be but few who, by the way of Merit and Service, will sue to Majesty for that which they can have for taking up, and possibly without Stooping, paying only such Demands and Fees as those shall please to impose upon them, who are appointed to visit in the several Districts of the Kingdom, for Remedy of which Abuses, 'twere much to be wished that there were a Court of Honour. The Original of enobling and distinguishing Families by Coat-Armour; seems to be no ancienter than the Times of the Holy War: for the men at Arms, who were called Knights or Milites, and listed themselves in this Expedition, every one beautified his Shield with some Device or Bearing, which was afterwards transmitted to Posterity, as a Badge or Cognizance of their Ancestors they were descended from. There are a sort of Gentlemen in the World, who will glory much in their Pedigree, when perhaps their Family took Rise from some Vintner or Tailor, or if they be well descended, they seem not to retain the least Relic of their Progenitors Honour, but the naked Escutcheon; a Race of lazy and degenerate Drones, who look Big only by thinking of another's Actions, and whilst they envy those that ascend to Honour by ways of Industry and Virtue, they themselves, for the most part, conclude their Lives with Shame and Beggary. He than is truly Noble, who draws a Generous Blood from a Series of Ancestors, who were Honourable and Eminent in their Times, Serviceable to their Countries, and whose Virtues he makes to be the Pattern of his Actions. CHAP. XXIV. Of Riches. IF the universal Consent of Ages, if the constant Practice of all Conditions of Persons, if the bent of Desire, and the strength of men's Affections, be able to make a thing Sacred, all these concur in Riches, so that Riches may challenge a Temple no less than Honour, as having not only a greater Number of Votaries, but being able to purchase both Honour, and almost all the other Blessings of Fortune, and is that Deity, which does upon the matter, command the World. If we consider the Events of War, we shall find this soft Mettle to have subdued as many Cities as the Sword, and if we regard the Transactions of Peace too, we shall find 'tis this which does unlock the Cabinets of Princes, 'tis this that does debauch their bosom-Favourites, and does undermine and blow up their Counsels. Riches may be considered in relation either to particular Proprietors, or in relation to the Public. In relation to the Public, 'tis certain, That the State which is most wealthy, is in the greatest capacity to suppress Civil Factions, and to extend Dominion, provided there be no want of Industry, or decay of Discipline. The designs of War are made and carried on at a vast Expense, whether we consider the Lives of Men, or the Provisions of the Mouth, together with the several Engines, Magazines, and all the Military Equipage: But there is this Mischief which does usually attend rich and flourishing States, viz. The Plenty and Abundance in which they live, does usually tempt them to Idleness and Luxury, in which case the Prey inviteth, and the decay of Discipline and Virtue, makes the Conquest more easy. Thus also the ancient Roman Empire, under the dissolute Governments of Arcadius and Honorius, was torn in pieces by the Hunns, Goths, and those other Northern and barbarous Nations, which thronged in daily through the Frontiers: And thus the vast Empire of Asia, though extremely rich, and abounding in all good things, by a long and prosperous Enjoyment of Peace and Ease, became so effeminate, as encouraged the poor and savage Tartars to invade and conquer it. The Conquests which are made by people who are poor, are rather by Eruptions than Wars; like a mighty Torrent they come suddenly in, and carry all away before them, but if once they be repelled, they must return for some time to recruit, being destitute of the means to carry on a long and expensive War. But notwithstanding these and such like Examples, the Nation which is richest, caeteris paribus, will have the upper hand over those who are about them; and therefore it is not true Policy for a Prince, when he finds his Neighbours to increase in Power, if he cannot keep pace with them by his Industry, to follow them with his Sword, lest peradventure he be at length forced to beg for his own, and perhaps be stripped of all, having no other Guard to stand upon, but that poor Suffering Posture of crossed Arms. Riches are of two sorts: First such as consist in the Possession of Lands, Cattle, Corn, Fruits, with such natural Productions of the Earth, as contribute to the use and sustenance of Man, to which I may add all sorts of Manufactures, and the works of Art. Or by Riches we may understand, Money. In former times, things were bought and sold by Barter and Exchange, but this way of troquing, proving very troublesome and incommodious, all men had recourse to Money, as to the common Standard by which the Value of Things is to be estimated, so that he that has Money, is upon the matter, Master of all those things which Money can procure. It concerns therefore every Man to look well to his Purse, but especially a Prince, not only because he has infinite ways, and those very large ones, of spending, but because he hath great Enemies, both Foreign and Domestic, of which the later are far more dangerous. When a Prince's purse is at a low ebb, Insolence will be high and touring, and want of Money does draw him many times to such dissimulating, and compliance, as detracts much from the Lustre of Majesty, which in a short time will bring it under Disability and Contempt. The seasons of Action are lost, whilst he is seeking after the Means, and what is worst of all, 'tis seldom Princes are thus reserved in their Extremities, but by suffering their Wings to be robbed of the fairest and strongest Plumes, they seem for a great while after, but to flutter on the Ground. Their Customs in many places beyond Sea of having Mounts or Banks, is of great advantage to the Government, and well worthy our Imitation. All persons who have a mind to put out their Money, may put it into the public Treasury, at a moderate Interest, by which means there is always a vast Sum in readiness, upon any sudden and extraordinary occasion; whereas when Money is to be raised by way of Tax, and with the Consent of the Parties or Representatives, besides the forementioned Inconveniencies, half is lost before it can come to the State, what with the Fallacies of the Collectors and Officers, and what with the intolerable Exaction of Brokers and Bankers upon present Advance. To which we may add the Delays, which attend such Supplies, as well in the Grant as in the Levy, so that coming oftentimes too late, the Government, by this Means, lies betrayed to inevitable Danger. And as this Expedient of Mounts or Banks is beneficial in respect of the State, so is it in the next place as beneficial in respect of the Subject: For there will be less occasion of having Recourse to the disgustful Remedy of Taxes, and for the Creditors that shall place out their Money this way, 'tis certain that they will never lose the Fruit of it, for want of an opportunity to place it out, and it is as certain too, That the Security of the State, will be much better than what they can expect from the personal Security of Bankers, or of private men, (who break every hour) or from the Honesty of scriveners, or from any Land-Security, where the Title is for the most part entangled, and the Lands themselves preingaged by Judgements, and Mortgages, and many such like statutable Snares and Fetters of the Law, as may make the poor Creditor spend the Remainder of his Life in fruitless and vexatious Suits: so that I dare affirm that the fourth part of the Quarrels depending in our Courts, are derived from this unlucky Head. Now for the better Security of every one who shall become a Creditor to the Public, 'twere not amiss if some Branches of the public Revenue, in such States where the people have a Suffrage, for instance, If some Portions of the Excise and Customs, or any such like Impositions, should stand engaged for the paying of Interest and Capital; though it is not much to be doubted, but that a Prince who values his Honour, or at least his Interest, will be punctual in Discharging such Engagements, considering that if once his Credit should fail, it would not only put a stop to all such Recruits, but it would create such a Distrust and Jealousy amongst his Subjects towards him, as would totally alienate their Affections, and probably their Allegiance and Duty from him. 'Tis their Practice in some of the Banks beyond Sea, for the Creditor to give two or three per Cent. at the putting in of his Money, and as much at the taking of it out. 'Tis their Custom also in some places, not to repay the Creditor in specie, but those who have occasion for their Money, do assign or fell over their share in the Bank, to some other persons who have a desire to place their Money there, by which Means the Exchequer will never be exhausted by the Creditors, and there will be still Sums of Money flowing in towards the Increase and Greatning of the Bank. Great are the Advantages of Navigation as to the enriching of a Nation with Money. 'Twas Navigation that taught us the way to the East and West Indies, so that they who are most industrious in this way, will be certain to possess the greatest Treasure. Hence it is that the Dutch are thought, by some, to have as much Bullion lying by them, as all the rest of Europe. Indeed their prodigious. Disbursements during the late Wars, towards the Maintenance of the Spanish and Imperial Armies, for two whole Campaignes, as also their own vast Expenses both by Sea and Land, against the whole Force of Europe upon the matter, is a pregnant Demonstration of this Truth; for so it was that their Allies and Friends were more chargeable to them than their Enemies. The Spaniards, who possess the inexhaustible Treasures of Mexico and Peru, are really the poorest of all Nations, for being little addicted to Navigation, and being naturally Proud and Haughty, they think it beneath their Grandeur to follow Merchandise, Husbandry, or any Mechanic Arts, though they be ready to starve; and those who have Gold, are forced to exchange it for the Commodities of other Countries, of which they stand in need, having little or no Provisions of their own, much less any Staple-Manufactures to barter. The Nation therefore which makes Profession of Traffic, ought well to provide that the imported Goods exceed not the Value of the exported, for otherways they must be forced to balance the Overplus with Money, to prevent which Inconvenience there cannot be a better Expedient, than for the People to live Temperate and Frugal: for by this means they will stand in less need of Foreign Superfluities, and consequently, what they send forth into other Countries, being more than the imported Goods they spend, the Overplus will come Home to them in ready Coin; and this is certainly one of the greatest Policies, by which the Dutch have raised their Wealth and Commerce to such a vast State: for Wasting nothing of Foreign Commodities but what is necessary, and having little or nothing of their own to export, save Fish, Butter, Cheese, Earthen Ware, and some such inconsiderable Merchandise, they betake themselves to a way of Trade from Port to Port, and so carry the Commodities of one Country into another, till they at length make the last Return in Money. Another way by which the Money of a Nation may be preserved, is, by a Severe Prohibition of those Superfluous Ornaments and Expenses, by which the Property of the Metal is totally wasted, such as Embroideries, Goldlace, all manner of Gildings, as of Coaches, Leather, Swords, Picture-Frames, with infinite other things of like Nature. Things may be said to be Dear or Cheap, not only from the Scarcity or Plenty of them, but also from the Scarcity or Plenty of the Money which we give in their Exchange. If we give a little Money for a Thing, we commonly say 'tis cheap, when yet perhaps this does not proceed from the Abundance of that Thing, but from the Scarcity of the Money which is valued against it. Likewise when we give a great deal of Money for a little of Commodity, we conclude it to be dear, when peradventure 'tis not from the Scarcity of such a Commodity, but from the great Plenty of Money: So that in this Age all things seem ten times dearer than they were some Ages past, when yet this does not happen from a greater Scarcity of such things, but from that great Inundation of Silver which comes in daily on us, since the Discovery of the Indies. In the next place let us consider Riches, as they may be appropriated to particular Persons. As for those who reduce all things to a Level, we refer them to Utopia: For as long as Men are Men, some will be Industrious, others Negligent; and the Industrious will still be Richer than the Others. To take away therefore what is gotten by Industry, and to bestow it upon the Undeserving, is utterly to banish Virtue, and to encourage Vice; for no Man will Sow in the Sweat of his Brow, that another may Reap the Fruits of his Labour for nothing. Many are the ways of Getting Riches, some Honest, and more Dishonest; but of all Professions, the Retailing Merchant seems most obnoxious to Cheating, as being supported by Lying, affirming his Wares to be Good, when he knows them to be Bad, and with Oaths protesting that they cost him so much, when they did not stand him in half the Price; to which we may add the Deceit of Weights and Measures, false Bills and Reckon of the Book, with infinite Frauds by which they labour to adulterate and disguise their Wares. All that can be said on their Behalf is this; That they are Obnoxious many times to great Hazards, and Commodities being spoiled, or lying dead upon their Hands, they ought to make good their Losses out of the Remainder, which they cannot do, but by Demanding more than the just and true Value. What is got by Husbandry, and the Improvement of the Productions and Fruits of the Earth, may be looked upon as the most Innocent of all Gains, it is accompanied with Industry and Health, and tends to the Perfections of Nature: And if we look into Histories, besides the Patriarches of old, we shall meet with many Brave Men, who have be took themselves to this Course of Life. There are two sorts of Men in the World, both of them in great Esteem for Wit, which are rarely Rich. The first are Poets; these for the most part are Rich only in Fancy, for being Airy and Pleasant their Company is many times sought after, which cannot but divert them from the Pursuit of any Solid Undertaking. Besides, being naturally Prone to good Liquor, as the proper Instrument to Heighten Fancy, they get such Habits of Expense, as does much impair that Stock of Fortune they were born to; but above all, affecting Idleness and Ease, for the Muses ever haunt the Warbling Fountains, and Solitary Shades, any Counterchange of Business, shuffles all their Thoughts into Disorder; For indeed who would ever worry himself amongst the Thorns of a busy Life, who can be admitted, when he pleases, to the Banquet of the Gods, drink with them in Nectar, and make them to descend in Golden Showers? Poets, in the very midst of Winter, can Translate themselves into Elysium, they can build stately Palaces, and furnish them too, with the Expense only of a few Verses. There is another Sort of Men reputed to be of good Capacity, who seldom become Rich, and they are Projectors. These Men are of a Genius clear contrary to Poets, for they are of a Working Brain, always concerned in Undertake, and leaving nothing Untried. They will stick at no Expense, still propounding some Unknown, Compendious Way of getting Wealth, till at length being exhausted in their Purses, or discouraged by unfortunate Difficulties, or the Fertility of their Invention casting them ever and anon upon new Projects, they leave their former Designs Imperfect, which some second Person undertakes frequently with good Success: for by avoiding the former's Miscarriages, and entering on the Work with fresh Spirits and a full Purse, he does not only improve the Invention, but brings it, many times, to a mature Issue. As for them who place all their Felicity in the Possession of Gold, they are as great Slaves as those who are condemned to die for it in the Mines. They are always handling the Ore, but have never the power to use it. 'Tis observed of such Misers, That they are ever most Griping, the nearer they are to their Ends, whereas methinks, they should then choose rather to spend it in procuring such things, as might make the Remainder of their Life Comfortable; but so it is that they cleave fastest to their Money, when they are nearest to leaving it, as we ever give the closest Hugs to our Departing Friends. The Reason why they act in this manner, how Extravagant so ever it may seem to be, is not Unnatural: For seeing the adequate Object of the Soul's Desire must be something Infinite, they who place their greatest Happiness in the Possession of Treasure, the more they have, the nearer Approaches do they seem to make towards that Imaginary Infinity, which is the ultimate Term of their Desire; and consequently they will labour with greater Eagerness to engross what remains, as we see all Natural Motion, is ever more Impetuous and Swift, the nearer it comes to its Centre or Place of Rest. He therefore is truly Happy amidst his Riches, who knows how to use them, for besides the Comforts they yield in procuring all things Necessary, and Delightful for Humane Life, they put us also in a Capacity to relieve the Wants of others, and to do many Acts of Charity, and Works of Public Benefit. And as to External Respect, the Ignorant Multitude will ever worship the Golden Calf: For let a Man be never so meanly furnished with the Virtues of the Mind, if he be but Rich, most who are of a lower Rank, will stand in terms of Compliance, some out of Hopes of Getting; others, out of Fear of Losing by him, for in all Disputes, he that has the greatest Purse, has odds upon his side. Gold, though it be said to Cure some Distempers of the Eyes, is capable to Blind the Sight of Justice, and as being the Heaviest of Metals, may be imagined to be of sufficient Weight to Turn its Scales. It can procure a Friend at Court, and what is much more to be relied on in a time of Need, it can procure a Throgh-paced and Trusty Evidence. In a word, though it be not Immense, it is in some measure Omnipotent. CHAP. XXV. Of Office and Great Place. AN Ability to do Good and Hurt, has ever been looked upon as a Branch of the Royal Prerogative, which, as it begets in the Minds of Men a certain Awe and Veneration for the Person in whom it is lodged, so must it render his Influence great, and the Person himself a Favourite of Fortune. This Power, when it moves by Springs of ones own Inclination only, is conversant about Acts of Grace, but when it moves with Regard to the Merits of another Person, it is called Justice, and is conversant about Rewards and Punishments. Now although the latter Faculty is that which constitutes a Magistrate, yet so it is, that Men who are invested with Power, do many times act in an Arbitrary Way, by following the Bias of their own Wills and Passions. But be the Motives and Considerations, upon which they act, what they will be, 'tis certain that the Character is derived from a higher Authority, though that which places Men in the Eye of that Authority, is not always Merit, but sometimes Fortune. Offices are of two kinds, either such as have relation to Justice, or such as regard the Court and Service of the Prince. From the former sort of Offices, Men are denominated Magistrates, from the latter they are called Ministers of State, though these Ministers are many times Transcendently above other, both in Dignity and Power. In a Magistrate there are these Four Qualifications requisite, of which the First is, Capacity or Understanding, for though Justice ought to be Blind as to the Merit of the Person, it must not be so as to the Merit of the Cause; and here it is that a Fool may be more Dangerous than a Knave: The later may and will sometimes Act justly, for there was never yet so great a Knave in Office, but he did many things Commendable, whereas he that wants Understanding, can never distinguish betwixt Truth and Falsehood. A Crack in the Brain is never to be mended, being a Fundamental Error, which draws many others after it, whereas Corruptions of Will, and ill Habits of Life, may be and are often actually reformed. They do not hinder men's Knowledge of what is Right, and there are few to be found, who will act always in Contradiction to what they think is Just. Hence it is that Bad Men, have many times proved good Kings, and made Wholesome Laws, whereas Good Men have sometimes proved Bad Kings, by too much Softness, Facility and Ignorance. To Capacity of Understanding, we may join Experience in a Magistrate, for no Man can well tell the Issue of things Future, who has not made Trial of the like for the time Past. Another Qualification requisite in a Magistrate, is Conscience or Integrity, this is placed in the Will, as the other in the Understanding. Partiality of Affection, or Bribery, are two dangerous Temptations to Men in Place. The Judges of Athens (called Areopagites) were wont always to hear Causes at Midnight, and in the Dark, to the Intent that the Profound Silence of that Season might fix their Thoughts, and that they might not be drawn to Partiality by the sight of Persons. But withal I know not whether they might not feel better in the Dark, sure I am that there is more Corruption proceeds from the Hand, than from the Eye. A Third thing requisite in a Magistrate, is Conduct, and this not only, in the Order and Management of Business, but of himself also, by keeping his own Passions under due Obedience. Transport of Passion does puzzle the Understanding, pervert the Will, and precipitate Judgement: by it Innocence is many times oppressed, and Oppression encouraged. Besides nothing can bring the Person of a Magistrate under greater Contempt, than to see him indulge himself in his Follies: or how can he be thought able to reconcile the Weighty Difference betwixt others, who in the very Act of Judgement, cannot compose his own little Capricious Humours? The last Character of a Magistrate, is Courage: He is the Representative of his Prince, and therefore as he ought to be Deliberate and Circumspect in Judging, so ought he to be Bold and Resolute in Executing what is once Decreed. He ought not to accommodate the Rule to the Thing, but to try the Thing by the Rule. Indeed the Rule of Justice which ought to be made of Steel, is many times made of Lead, not only of a Metal which is Dull and Base, but of such a pliable Temper, as will be fashioned to any thing, though it be sure to leave a Smutty Tincture behind it. No, no! 'Tis he only deserves the Scarlet Robe, who dares oppose it against Enormities of the same Dye. Offices of State are Flattering Things, such as all men court, but few obtain. And here it is that Fortune shows herself to be a very False Mistress, one while Wanton and Caressing, anon Coy and Scornful, but always Unequal and Unconstant. Some men tumble headlong upon Preferments, as it were in Despite of their Stars, or rather of their own Sublunary Mixture. Others, let them Conjure by all the Constellations, and let them Calculate for all Meridian's, and let them be furnished with all Natural Parts imaginable, are still but the same poor Solitary Ciphers: like a Dog in the Wheel, they are ever Climbing up, but yet remain still in the same Numerical Place, as at the first; the Wheel on which they rely casts them down again, and the Reward they meet with for all their Drudgery, is no other but the Dropping of the Spit. They make their Rounds from this Great Man to that, and after many a Servile Turn, perhaps the only Place they can procure, may be at my Lord's Table, where they may be filled with good meat, or with what's less Substantial, with Promises, which are but an Airy kind of Diet, being such as will make a man look Puffed and Big, but will rarely make him Fat. Boccalins Fiction is Ingenious and Pleasant, when he brings in certain Politicians presenting a State-Compass and Chart to Apollo. In the former were described all the Winds, by which a Courtier ought to Sail, in the later all the Roads and Landmarks were accurately described, together with all the Rocks, hidden Banks of Sand, and Gulfs, with such like Dangers to which men are Obnoxious in a Voyage. Great was the Joy in the Court of Apollo, for this rare Invention, and happy was the man that could first make Trial of it; long it was not before a Virtuoso rigged out his Vessel Top and Top-gallant, well furnished he was with all things, and set forth too with a Prosperous Gale: scarce had he got a League to Sea, but he falls amongst Rocks hid under Water, out of which being escaped with Loss and Difficulty, he instantly runs upon a Bank of Sand, whereupon having Recourse to his Chart, he found neither of these Passages marked: scarce had he escaped this Danger likewise, but he was assaulted with a Sudden and Violent Wind, neither was this Disaster noted in his Sea-Compass, but so it was that he was beaten back again into the Port, so miserably shattered, that he was adjudged to be no good Pilot, and to be uncapable of setting out to Sea ever after. After him comes another Politician, who was looked upon as a more experienced Pilot than the former: having paid a profound Adoration to Apollo, he desires his Permission to try his good Fortune, but his Success was worse than that of the first, for his Vessel was wracked, and he himself had much ado to escape naked to the Shoar: In fine, three or four more having tried to sail by the Direction of the foresaid Chart, were all of them Split or much disabled. At length came a Bold, Ignorant Fellow, whose Vessel was ill Built, and worse Furnished, who craving Leave of his Delphic Majesty, to see what Fortune he could meet with, easily obtained his Request, not without the Contempt and Laughter of the whole College of Politicians: He takes no Notice of State-Chart or Compass, but following the Course of his own Capricious Humour, he not only avoided those Dangers which the others fell upon, but was attended all along with a favourable Wind, and made a Fortunate Voyage. This unexpected Accident amazed not only all the Virtuosos of the Delphic Court, but even the Sacred Majesty of Apollo, who presently gave Command that the State-Chart should be examined with more Curiosity and Exactness, which when they had performed, they found at length that it was nothing but a Chimaera Fantastical and Ridiculous, and such as would betray men to Inevitable Danger, should they return to be guided by it, whereupon by common consent, they threw both Chart and Compass out of Doors. This Fancy of Boccalins, though it be Witty, and in some measure True, yet 'tis as true too, That men duly qualified, may by a good Address and Conduct, very much contribute to the Advancement of their own Fortunes. By men duly qualified, I understand, Privileged by Birth, Education, Personage, Parts, Carriage, Reputation, Friends, and the like, most of which where they meet in one Subject, like a Constellation of Virtues, do prognosticate an easy Passage to future Greatness, by following some certain Maxims. It was the Observation of that Great and Unfortunate Statesman in his Essays; That as in Nature things move Violently to their place, and Calmly in their place, so Virtue in Ambition is Violent, in Authority Settled and Calm. All rising to great Place is by a winding Stair, and if there be Factions, 'tis good for a man to side himself whilst he is rising, and to balance himself when he is placed: Thus far he. This is certain, that the Art of keeping a Place is very different from the getting it, and withal much greater. As to ways of getting into place, these following have been ever observed to have been of some Importance. First, A man ought to search all fair Occasions of being presented to the Eye and Notice of his Sovereign. They who are descended from Parents, who have born Office in the Court, or from such Families, whose Rank and Quality gives them the Honour to be always in the Presence, have their Work half done to their Hands: but for others who come out of the Crowd or common Mass of people, they have no other way to recommend themselves, but by their Merit and Actions, and this too will hardly suffice, unless they have some sure Friend, well versed in the practices of the Court, who may own them at their first Appearance, and as it were, to lead them by the Hand through that thick Press and Throng which usually surrounds Majesty: For the truth of it is, whosoever seeks to make his Fortunes this Way, will be sure to have Spies upon his Actions, and such as will make it their Business to blast him in the Blossom; for generally Courtiers, how Smiling and Obliging soever they seem to be, are in this like some other Animals, who will be still driving away a Stranger, though of their own kind, when he offers to join himself to the Herd. When a man therefore has once found the Grace to be a little known, his next Business is to study the Genius and Inclinations of his Prince, and thereunto to conform himself: Similitude of Humour will create an Affection, and by being in the Eye of Majesty, he will be always in the way when any thing shall fall, and will have an irreproachable Witness of his good Conduct and Behaviour, against all the Accidents of Calumny; but above all, let it not appear to proceed from Flattery, but from a sincere Duty, and from a real Affection to his Service. There are others who proceed a way quite contrary to what is here delivered, labouring to arrive to the Favours of the Court, by openly Opposing the Designs and Inclinations of their Prince, which Method is found but too successful in mixed Monarchies, where the Power in many things is interwove with the Suffrages of the people. I know there is this to be admitted, That a person who has won from the Contrary Party, upon hopes of Preferment, is equivalent to two, for as he makes the Party he goes over to, to be stronger by one, so he makes the Opposite Faction to be one less: besides, he who quits a Faction, may be of great Use for Suppressing the same, by Discovering Persons, and all their Secret Cabals and Contrivances to which he was privy: But yet there is this fatal Mischief in the Case, That for one Evil Spirit that is conjured off in this way, there will succeed seven more and worse than the first; for when men (who are but too apt to oppose Authority) shall find such Courses Prosperous, the more the Royal Bounty is exhausted, the more will be the Opposition, upon the like Hopes of being taken off with further Gratuities and Rewards; nay even those, who are otherways of Loyal Principles, will be under strong Temptations to forsake the good old Road, for the new compendious Way, which will bring them safer and surer to their Journey's End. Boldness has been ever looked upon as a Quality, very requisite in one who would make his Fortune in the Court; for where there is a Crowd, a man must thrust himself a little forewarder to get in, or else be contented to stand without. He must not desist for the first, second, or third Repulse, but always offer himself with the same Assurance: And if he cannot get in in at the Gate, he must try to enter at the Backdoor; but with Boldness too there must be joined great Discretion and Address, as well in respect of Persons, as of the several Circumstances in Place and Time: he ought well to understand the various Interests and Dispositions of the Parties to whom he makes his Application. And because the Court is compounded of all Sorts of People, and all sorts of Affairs are managed in it, he who makes his Advantages this way, aught to be well versed in all sorts of Business, as well to make him Capable of any Employment which shall fall, as also to render his own Credit greater, and himself useful to others. Moreover, he ought to be of a strong Constitution of Body, being to accommodate himself to all Companies and Seasons, where the Occasion of Converse will sometimes draw him into Irregularity and Excess: He must learn to Flatter, not only Great Men, but their Servants also, to the very Grooms and Footmen, he must make his Attendance at all hours, he must brook all Delays, and where he is repulsed, he must by all Expressions imaginable testify his Obligation; he must many times dissemble Affronts from Great Ones, and make a Show of being Thankful: He must meet those who hate him, or (which is all one) those whom he himself hates, with a cheerful and open Face, and when he seems to be most Negligent and Remiss, then must he keep the closest Guard upon his Words and Actions; but above all, he must never suffer the Thoughts and Passions of his Mind, to be read in his Countenance. He certainly, who does not weigh his own Abilities, and examine his Passions by these Measures, will never be in Prospect of great Matters, unless perhaps some extraordinary Merit and Accident shall make his Service necessary, or perhaps his Person and Humour be sound agreeable to some particular Fancy of his Prince. Some men are apt to fall into Choler upon every little Provocation: Others cannot abstain from unseasonable Raillery and playing the satire: Others again are Impatient under Delays: Others cannot refrain their Tongue, but speak any thing of any Body, and before any body. To men of this Temper, Retreat and a Private Life, would be far more Profitable than Business, for let them be assured, they will never make their Fortunes, but on the contrary, they will be in a great probability of Losing what they were before possessed of, and of Ruining themselves. The Rules by which Statesmen preserve themselves in the good Graces of a Prince, are many and difficult, amongst which these Four are indispensably requisite. First, In Conversation and Discourse, never to contend with him for Mastery, or to gain the Point. No man willingly yields his Reason to be Inferior to another's, much less a Prince, for this would set him at a low Rate. In Matters therefore of Argument, or in any thing which may create Emulation, 'tis good to leave him in Possession of the Victory, or at least to decline the Contest before it comes to Heat. Asinius Pollio the Poet answered Wittily and Wisely too, who being called upon by his Friends, to answer some Verses that Augustus wrote of him, answered them: Non tutum est Scribere contra eum qui potest Proscribere. The second Rule relates to Secrets, and here the Notes are two: First not to be Curious in knowing his Master's Secrets, for he who knows fewer Secrets, has an Awe upon him, and has a Power to do him Mischief. No Man, much less a Prince, would willingly leave himself at another's Malice or Indiscretion. In the next place, if Secrets be once imparted, let him be most Religious and Faithful in Concealing them, so that it as highly concerns him to keep them close, as it is important for him sometimes to know those of another; and this is done usually some of these Ways, viz. In Drink, by Sports and Plays, in Choler, or lastly, which is the surest Way of all, by telling another some Passage of small Importance, in a way of Secrecy, or by Feigning some Story or other, which may have some Affinity and Similitude with the thing he labours to Discover, of which having got some lose Ends, 'twill not be difficult to Spin it all out. The third grand Point in which the Conduct of a Statesman is concerned, is Counsel. The Wisest Men have ever shown themselves Cautious and Timid in this particular. Peremptory Advice lays Arrestment upon Majesty, and besides the Disgust 'tis apt to give, by making a Subject to seem Wiser than his Master; if the Advice succeeds well, it forces a King to commend the Wisdom of his Teacher, and to become a Debtor to his Creature; but if ill, it will not fail to procure the Disgrace, if not the Ruin of him who gave the Counsel. By a due Observation of this Point, it was that Cardinal Granvel flourished to the last, in the good Graces of King Philip the second, who certainly was a Wise and Politic Prince. He proposed Matters in that way, as 'twas always free for the King to make his Choice: For he so tempered his Reasons, and weighed the Arguments of both sides in such a Measure, as are sufficient to Incline the Mind, yet so that the Resolution should ever seem to be the King's proper Act. By this Conduct, two very considerable Points are gained: First, A Firm Interest in the Affections of one's Prince: Next, By making the Prince to be Author of the Proposal, a Man stands sheltered against all Popular Storms, in case his Counsel shall have bad Success. The last Rule which the Wisest Statesmen have ever observed is this: Never to affect Pomp and Ostentation in their Actions and Life, but to make Show ever of Modesty, and in case they be Happy in what they undertake, to attribute the Success to Fortune, as also all their Honours to Royal Bounty, and not to Private Merit. Sejanus stands upon Record as an Example of Subtlety, for when he was most Intriguing, he seemed to be very Indifferent and Cold, he was always in Repose, yet always Acting, and when he appeared Drowsy, he had ever the greatest Objects in Pursuit. It hath ever been adjudged the highest Policy, for a Man to make others the Instruments of his Ends, and yet make them Ignorant of his Designs, or who it was that set them first on Work: Herein imitating the Wisdom of the Almighty, which in the Course of Providence, does work Effects contrary to the Intention of those by whom they are produced. As for them who make Parade, and affect Glory in all they undertake, they will never want Envy, and generally the End is this: Such as do design their Ruin will make the greatest court to them, and pretend to depend wholly upon their Grace and Bounty, which cannot but create Jealousy in a Prince, and make him embrace the first Occasions to remove them. Examples of this kind we have in Cardinal Spinola, under Philip the second, and of late in Monsr. Fouquet. Moreover, it often happens, That those who make the greatest Ostentation of their Policy, besides the Envy that they draw upon themselves, are found most Defective even in the Management of their own Designs, as appeared by Machiavelli, who, with all his Trains of Maxims, was most Unfortunate in his Conduct: For it hath been observed, That Men of his Temper are always subject to two things, which are most Destructive of all good Counsels. First, they are ever upon the Ferment, and a Working, and draw upon themselves a greater Mass of Business than they are able to Discuss. In the next place they always float in a great Abundance of Reasons and Inventions, which hinder the Prosecution of one another: Nor can they have Patience to pursue one thing home, the Fertility of their Invention ever and anon Suggesting to them some new Expedients. Besides the foregoing Observations, 'tis requisite that a man should be well Instructed and Practised in these Points, viz. Assiduity in Attendance, a Respectful and Obsequious Deportment, Facetiousness in Stories and Converse, and a Conformity to the Humours and Recreations of his Prince, for by these we are sure to gain Affection, which is the surest Title to Favour. Negotiation or Embassy, which is a principal Branch of a Statesman's Duty, require him to be versed in all sorts of Business; to be Vigilant and Active, to be Bold and yet Discreet, to be Close and Insinuating, and yet carry a Show of Frankeness, and to be able to suit himself with every Genius. A man who can frame himself to all these Circumstances, will not want Occasions of being employed. But besides the Duties which every Statesman ought to practise towards his Superiors, whether abroad, or within the Circles of the Court, there are other Duties towards his Inferiors, which he ought to have regard to in the Execution of his Office. First, He ought to receive all Suitors with an Open and Unprejudiced Countenance, yet not to be forward to engage his Interest but upon Special Occasion. Nevertheless general Promises are ever to be made, for they keep men in terms of Observance and Devotion, and in case of Success, the Obligation will seem greater as exceeding Expectation, and in case of Failure the Discourtesy will seem less, and in all Cases he reserves his Liberty to the last, being free to act one way or another, as further Circumstances shall require him. It is a Maxim amongst Politicians, That it is a Diminution of Authority to do that which a man may afterwards be forced to undo, so that 'tis always more prudent, to strangle an ill formed Design at the Beginning, than be obliged afterwards to Disown it in Public, or to feed it with pernicious Resolutions and Blood. In the second place, every Wise man ought to take more Regard not to do Injuries, than to confer Favours, for the later will soon be forgotten, whereas the former make a durable Impression, and will be requited with Interest, when men are least ware; which thing is seriously to be considered by one in great Office, who will be sure ever to find more Enemies, than Friends. In the next place, such a one ought never to Exert the utmost of his Power, but to Manage matters by such Degrees, that his Puissance may be unlimited, by being able always to do more, and to surpass himself, for a Power which is Indefinite, will in some measure seem Infinite. In the last place, let him make himself to be esteemed a Protector of the Poor, by some remarkable Acts of Justice and Grace: For (as Tully very well observes) upon the Defence of a Great Man, the Benefit terminates either in himself alone, or at the utmost, in the Effects it has upon his House and Family, but in the Protection of a Poor Man, who is Innocent and Honest, there is an Interest made in all the rest of that Tribe, which is no Inconsiderable Party of a Nation. By these and such like ways it is, that Men are observed often to rise to great Place, and to make good their Station. There yet remains a third Grand Point, in which the Wisdom of a Statef-man most discovers itself, being indeed of greater Moment than the two former, and that is, To know when to Withdraw. Tho a man enter upon the Stage with a great Flourish, and act his Part well, yet 'tis the last Scene of the Play, and a Graceful Coming off, which shuts up all, and gains the Plaudite. He who has prospered long in the Favours of a Court, and has acquired his full Measure of Riches and Honours, when he sees Fortune turn her Reverse or Backside on him, aught to think of Retiring, and not presume upon his own Conduct, in withstanding the higher Destinies. No Merchant who has a Vessel richly laden, and a fair Gale to carry him Home, will be so Mad as to stand out to Sea, when he sees a Storm approaching, and there contest it with the Winds and Rocks, and leave his rich Cargo with himself to the Disasters of one Fatal Hour. The most Cunning Gamesters will ever go off upon the Winning hand, and yet the Chances of State are more hazardous than those which do depend on the Wind, or the Falling of a die. Besides the Contrivance of Secret and Potent Enemies, besides the many real Miscarriages, which a Man of long Employment must needs contract, besides the Casualty of a Prince's Death, which seldom fails to put a Period to the Fortunes of a Favourite, besides these, and many such Accidents, this will still be certain, That Princes, at their several Stages of Life or Age, are of several Passions and Inclinations, so that the Humour and Disposition being changed, upon which a man was first taken into Favor, he ought in Reason to expect a Change in Fortune, especially considering that great Crowd of fresh Pretenders (men of as great or greater Merit than himself) which are always importuning Majesty, and aught also to have their Turns. 'Tis Cowardice and Baseness, I know, for a Man in times of Danger, to desert the Service of his Prince, upon the account of Securing the Fortunes he received from it: No, here he ought to Sacrifice all; but withal, 'tis high Presumption in him, to think his own Abilities always Necessary, as 'tis Folly and Madness for him to withstand a Prince, when he has once changed his Judgement and good Opinion of him. But were there nothing of all this, even the Indispositions of Sickness, the Infirmities of Age, the Thoughts of Settling one's Private Family, but above all, the Thoughts of Settling a man's Self, aught to make him think of a Retreat. He who Rises early aught to go to Bed betimes, nor are the Shades ever so Pleasant, as to one who has been for a long time in the Sunshine, and is tired with the Travels of the Day. 'Twas a Great and Wise Saying of that Officer, who demanding his Congé of Charles the V was asked by him the Reason why he would quit his Service, being then in his highest Grace and Favour, to whom the good Soldier replied; That there ought to be an Interval of Time, betwixt the Business of Life, and that of Death. There ought indeed to be a time of Recollection, and indeed none require it more than Statesmen: They Rise leisurely, and Step by Step, but they do not Fall so. The higher they Climb, the more subject they are to be Giddy, and if they stand more open to the Sunshine, so 'tis as true too that they stand more open to the Winds, so that here the smallest Step may probably prove a Precipice. 'Tis better for them therefore with the good Leave and Liking of their Prince, to go down softly, and so out through the Gate they came in at, than staying longer, to be turned out of Doors by the Officers, or perhaps be thrown Headlong down the Stairs. CHAP. XXVI. Of Friendship. MAN, who is not born to be a Solitary Creature, but to be a Member of Society, is under an inevitable Necessity of Communicating, not only the Actions of his Life, but the Secrets of his Heart, with others of the same Nature with himself. This reciprocal Dependence which one Man has upon another, besides the Natural Inclination which things of the same kind have to Associate together, begets Familiarity and Confidence, which by frequent Exercise and mutual Offices, at length creates a certain kind of Alliance, and gives rest to that Union of Affections, which we call Friendship. But then so various are the Ends of men, and so different from their secret Intentions, that what we call Friendship, is, for the most part, nothing but Falsehood in Masquerade, and therefore the Italian is Wise, if he be not Devout, when he prays to God to Defend him from his Friends, for from his Enemies he is able to Defend himself: For certainly the Italians, of all men living, have most reason to understand this Character, there being no Nation more Close or Dissembling in managing Revenge than they,: So that when any Kindness is tendered them, which they are not sensible to have Merited, they presently suspect a Snare, and stand upon their Guard. There are a Sort of Men, who seem to fall under the Character of Friends, being such as would be thought Willing to Oblige the whole World. Men they are of much Familiarity and easy Access, making always pompous Overtures of employing their Power for the Service of him that makes Suit to them; nay so forward are they, that they will prevent the Application, offering to spend and to be spent before they are addressed to. These generally would be thought to be Popular, and are of a Close Aspiring Nature. But Unhappy certainly is the man who relies upon them; for when once they are pressed to perform their Promise, they will find twenty little Shifts to put off the Execution, hoping at last to weary out their Patient, and yet would be still thought to be very Affectionate and Cordial. And if it happen that the Request (though never so Equitable) be such as shall any way distaste a third Person, they will never be brought to the Stake of Fidelity to their Words; but by a kind of Trimming and Cajoling, sometimes with one Party, and sometimes with another, they hope to gain the good Opinion of both, though in reality of neither: For long Attendance and Expectation, is able to cancel the Acknowledgements which may be due upon the Performance of a real Civility: Now instead of this, when a Man, after all the Allurements of Hope granted upon another's Word, and after he has digested all Delays, shall find himself be-jaded, by meeting a total Disappointment in the Close, with what Execrations will he resent the Dissimulation and Treachery of such a Politic, Perfidious Friend. A Wise and Honest man will be cautious to Engage his Word, much less to give Encouragement to pursue a Request which he is either Unwilling or Unable to answer. There is another sort of Friends which a man meets with every where, especially in fair Wether, called Parasites or Timon's Friends. These are wonderful Officious and Fawning, always saying what another says, doing what he does, and endeavouring to divert him by a thousand little Stories and Jests. They are most Luscious in their Flatteries, and most Lavish in Protestations of Service and Honour. The Italians call them Calcanti, from their beating it on the Hoof from House to House about Dinnertime. They will hunt a Venison Pastry upon a burning Scent, with greater Eagerness and Stanchness too, than when the Dogs killed it, and will devour it with the same Appetite; so that in this sense they verify their Title to Friendship, according to the Letter of the old Roman Proverb, By eating with their Friends many Bushels of Salt, though when any Storm or Wind does rise, away go these Butterflies. But not to spend time in Dissecting such Despicable Infects, which by Blowing only, are able to Taint and Corrupt the thing they feed upon, I shall now come to consider Friendship under other Qualifications, and such indeed as are more worthy to be enlarged upon. Friends than are of two sorts, first, such to which we have Recourse for obtaining some Grace, and these generally being in a higher Degree of Power and Interest than ourselves, are called Patrons, and of this kind a man may find some in the Courts of Princes, by the Help of one sure Friend called Money. 'Tis good for a Man to have Friends of this kind to support his Interest and Credit, and the more he has of them 'tis the better. Another sort of Friends are such to whom we have Recourse for Counsel, and whom we admit into our Cabinet Thoughts; these we call Confidents, and the fewer a Man has of them 'tis the better. One is absolutely necessary to make Life Comfortable; an● here it is true, That Friendship, at the same time that it Unites two into one, Divides one into two: For he who lives with another in the Bonds, or rather the Liberties of Friendship, must of necessity make him a Sharer in the Counsels of his Breast, as well as in the Affections of his Heart. To understand the Benefits of Friendship, we ought to consider the several Qualifications of a Friend, and the ways by which he may be Useful, of which the first is, For Advice and Counsel, upon which account he ought to be Discreet, Wise, and Faithful, and consequently to be advanced in Years, Younger Persons are Airy and Unconstant, whereas those of Maturer years are more fixed in their Inclinations, and of greater Experience, and so more fit to be relied on. In the next place, A Man aught, as much as possible, to contract Friendship with those of equal Quality with himself. They who are Inferior will be apt to Flatter, and they who are above will expect many times to be flattered, at least they will stand upon such Punctilios, and require that little Deference and Condescension, as will hold some Resemblance with State. Another Use a Man has of a Friend, is for Society, and for the Recreation of his Spirits. I know Solitude has sometimes produced great Effects, but generally we find that Men, when they aree too much alone, their Spirits will either feed or prey upon themselves, which turns to Melancholy, and makes Nature Degenerate, or else they will seek to ease themselves of the Burden of their Thoughts, to such mean and despicable Persons, as shall occur to them in the ordinary Course and Circumstances of their Lives, which must needs turn to the Detriment of Reputation. And because the Thread of Talk is apt to draw out all the little Passages and Follies of a Man's Life, no Man in Discretion ought to make another his Companion, of whose Secrecy he has not a good Assurance. Suitableness of Humour and Disposition seems essentially requisite to Cement Affections: Melancholy Men are many times Suspicious, and not over Complaisant: They who are Gay and Airy, are apt to Ridicule the most Serious Occurrenees, and have little Compassion for another's Misfortunes. Choleric Men are apt to be Injurious, and in their Heats, will not only be Reproachful, but are apt to Reveal the Secrets of their Friends. Talkative Persons, out of an Itch of Vanity, will be telling all and more than they know, both of themselves, and others. He therefore who is of a Mixed and Even Temper, is really the best, being such a one as can relieve the Oppressed Spirits of another by his own Alacrity, or else partake of his Burden by Condolence, and so accommodate himself to the others Condition in all its Circumstances. If they be of such a Profession, by which one may help another, or if they incline to the same Studies, or delight in the same Divertisements and Sports, this also must needs give them an easier Passage into one another's Acquaintance, and make their Conversation more durable; but in case they be separated by particular Offices, Correspondence by Letters is a most Effectual Means, not only to Preserve, but to Improve their Friendship. The last grand Use of a Friend, is to Solicit Business. A Man many times shall be reduced to such Circumstances, as 'twill be inconsistent with Discretion and Modesty, to act Openly in his own Concerns; especially in such Cases, as do depend upon the Character of a Man's Personal Merit and Qualities; as also where Bashfulness and want of Experience, may betray him to Absurdities. I know a Man may meet with those, who will be ready to do all Friendly Offices, but for the most part they are like Aesop's Friends in the Apologue of the Lark, who never thought her Young Ones in Danger to be destroyed, whilst the Husbandman depended on his Friends and Kindred, to cut the Field of Corn in which she had made her Nest, but when she heard that Husbandman, upon the Disappointment he met with from his Friends and Kindred, was resolved to do the Work himself, she thought it then high time to provide against the Danger, and be gone Of all the Tempers and Dispositions of Men, there is none more Inconsistent with the true End of Friendship, than that of one who is proned and addicted to his Pleasure: For although such a Man, in the Heat of Wine or of Conversation, or upon the Prospect he has of another's being Serviceable to his Ends, may make Protestations of Kindness, yet be assured almost, he will deceive thee, when thou shalt most depend upon his Interest and Activity. For Men of this Denomination, making their own Ease and Pleasure to be the Level of all the Measures of Life, let a Friend but Importune them in a thing which shall give them a little Trouble, and they shall presently look Coy, speak Coldly, and shall find Excuses to disengage themselves; but if Solicited pressingly, they will not stick to Reject their Friend for an Importunate and Impertinent Fellow; but if he be reduced to any Degree of Poverty and Want, 'twill be a shame, they think, to own any Acquaintance with him. Whosoever therefore falis into the Conversation of a Man of this Complexion, would do well to try his Metal betimes, by feigning some Necessity of using his interest, that so he may know what Stress to put upon him, in a Case of real Exigence. But let such Supercilious and Sordid Spirits know, That he who is not a true Friend himself, will never find one of another, for let a Man's Natural Parts be never so Great, or his Fortune what it will be, he will find that he is not always able to stand alone, and when such a one shall require another's Help, perhaps of his Abused Friend, he may expect a Grimace, or some Compendious and Disdainful thing from him, whom he never faithfully obliged. For the Generality of our Friends, they are full only of little Compliments and Ceremonies, and are indeed to be treated much after the same Rate, with a few Cringes, and Impertinent Repititions of, Tour Humble Servant Sir, and now and then with some small Scraps of News; but for the Use a Man may have of them, 'tis but like that of a Campagne-Coat, to be put off or on for the present Occasion: They will serve for an hour or two to keep him Warm, but to have them always hanging at one's Back, or about one, would be an intolerable Encumbrance. No, no, a true Friend, like my Shirt, is to be worn always next my Bosom, and serve to cover my Nakedness, with this only difference, That it ought never to be c●ang'd. To him it is that I have Recourse in the hour of Trouble, and to him I pour out my Sorrow. Here then is that sweet Fruit of Friendship: if my Condition be bad, the Evil becomes less by having a Partner; if good becomes greater by being communicated. If my Friend be well, I am better from the Joy and Content I find in his Welfare, if he be ill, though his Condition may create a Trouble, yet 'twill be a Comfort to me if I can relieve him; if not, 'tis some ease to me to condole with him: For really 'tis greater Pleasure to suffer with a Friend one dearly loves, than to enjoy most things without him. When I am wearied out with Business, or (what's more tiresome) perhaps with Idleness, I go to my Friend, my faithful Companion, and with him I refresh my Spirits, and we labour to divert each other with all innocent Converse; and although the Absence of Friends doth many times minister cause of Anxiety and Trouble, yet the hopes I have of seeing him, or of hearing good News from him, does seem to promise me some future Content I have not yet attained to, and so I am in a state and condition which will be changing for the better: In fine, if I have any Suit depending, I acquaint my Friend with it, I boldly crave his Advice, and perhaps his Assistance, he frankly tells me of my Errors, not in a Reproachful way, but with that Tenderness and Affection, as proves sufficiently his Sincerity and his Readiness to help me. And here it is that the Condition of Subjects, is much happier than that of Princes▪ For first, Kings cannot contract a true Friendship with their Equals. Policy and State oblige them to keep at distance from one another, not suffering them so much as to make an Acquaintance, and if at any time they meet, it is with so much Precaution of Danger, with such Preparations of State, with such Punctilios of Honour and Precedence, with such an Encumbrance of Retinue, with such Diffidence and Jealousy, and with so many Ceremonies and Formalities, as cannot choose but render such Interviews very Uneasy, Expensive, and many times Mischievous; and upon this account they happen but seldom, and are very short. Nay, so far are Kings from communicating their Secrets to one another, which yet is the chiefest point of Friendship, that it is the greatest part of their Policy to conceal them, and therefore they are forced to have secret Spies upon one another's Counsels, even then when they seem to be in perfect Concord, so that all the Endeavours of Friendship are sacrificed to Pretensions of State, and even these Alliances hold no longer than Interest will give Leave. Nay, though they endeavour to strengthen them by Oaths, or, what's more durable, by Matrimonial Vows, all's of little Force; for upon the first small Exigence, or Jealousy of State, it is all dissolved, so that, as they are solemnised for the most part, by the Proxy of a naked Sword, so War seems to be the surest Issue of such Marriages. This we see in France and Spain, which notwithstanding their near Mixture of Blood and their constant Intercourse of Marriages, are in perpetual Hostility, which probably will never have an End, but in the Ruin of one of these two Monarchies. And as Princes cannot make a true Friendship with their Equals, so neither can they always do it safely with their Inferiors, for in the first place, Over great Familiarity and Friendship betwixt Princes and Subjects, may be dangerous to the Subjects themselves. Extraordinary Favours are ever the Objects of Popular Envy. The Miscarriages of Government, whether Real or Imaginary, will be charged upon them, and sometimes they are delivered up to appease the People, though in Effect, the Removal of one great Favourite, does but make way for another to run the same Destiny. Hence it is, that many give Ambiguous Advice, and study rather to accommodate themselves to the Genius of a Prince by Compliance and Flatteries, than to their real Service by intrepid Resolutions, and by faithful and steady Counsels: For where Effects will many times judge of Counsels, and since the best designs may sometimes find a contrary Effect, all men will not venture their present Fortunes upon so Hazardous an Issue. In the next place, over great Familiarity betwixt Princes and Subjects, hath proved sometimes disadvantageous to Princes themselves, though certainly there are none who stand more in need of Friends, and faithful ones too, than Princes, whether we consider the vast number and weight of Affairs which lies upon them, and of which they can have no Information but from others, or whether we consider the real Danger which attends them, either from Faction and secret Conspiracies, or from Sensual Temptations and Pernicious Flatteries: And if it be their Misfortunes sometimes to be abused by their Confidents, 'tis their Happiness at other times, to receive Faithful and Loyal Service from them, so that upon the whole, they are such Instruments, without which Government cannot long subsist, nor a Prince long enjoy his own Repose. There is nothing more odious, than to stand obliged to some men, who presuming upon the Performance of some good Offices, take the Liberty to do ill ones, which is all one, as if a Man should put forth his hand to save me from Falling, and at another time take the Boldness to trip up my Heels: where a man therefore does receive an Obligation, he ought to study a convenient time to make requital, not too suddenly, lest he seem to throw back his Kindness at him; nor yet ought he to defer it too long, lest he be thought to be Forgetful or Ungrateful. Moreover, in ways of Friendship it has been ever held Prudence, for a Man not to be over-forwards to Oblige, or to make Show of his Affection by Promises, lest failing, he be thought to want either Power or Honesty to make good his Undertaking. Besides, men of this Temper, being apt to engage their Interest to many, are always under a Necessity of disappointing some, and these will certainly be more disgusted, when they find themselves deceived, than others can be pleased by any Kindness that shall be conferred upon them. There is no Enmity so Irreconcilable as that betwixt Persons who were sometimes the greatest Friends. 'Tis not with them as with broken Bones, which are many times stronger by being set again; but 'tis like a Rupture in the Heart, where there is no Balsam sufficient to cure the Wounds. To prevent therefore so fatal a Solution, 'twill not be amiss to propose some Rules, of which the first is this: To emulate thy Friend in Kindness, and study to do the same things to him, as thou wouldst he should do to thee; as for Frothy Compliments, Fond Embraces, and Modish Forms, they are not to be practised amongst Friends, they are Childish and Effeminate, but let a Man endeavour to demonstrate the Truth of his Heart, by the Reality of his Actions. The next Rule is this, For a Man not to flatter his Friend to his Face, but to make him Sensible, that in his Absence, he has a tender Regard for his Concerns and Reputation. Thirdly, Not to believe every ill Report of him, whether it relate to himself or others; and in case he give a Provocation, not to reply in Heat, but upon cool Blood, to see whether it amount to a real Injury, or whether he will come to himself again, by acknowledging the Offence; or whether a Man's self did not give the first Occasion. But in case the Stabbing Blow be once given, I hold it almost Superfluous ever to attempt a Reconcilement: For where men have been Privy to one another's Concerns, there will still be some little Treachery on one side or the other, and this is a Point so Delicate and Tender, as surpasses all other Injuries. 'Tis the best way therefore in such cases to Unsaw Friendship, and not to tear it asunder. The injured Party may withdraw from the other by little and little, but he may never rip up his Failings: For such a one will never find a Friend. A Wound may be bound up, And after Reviling there may be a Reconciliation, says the Wise man, but he that bewrayeth Secrets is without Hope: Nay, though he should not fall to this Degree of Baseness, yet where there has been a Trust committed, one will live in perpetual Jealousy and Distrust of the other, as having the Means always in his Hands to do him Mischief, which cannot but create a secret Fear, and consequently a Hatred. CHAP. XXVII. Of Reputation and Fame. AMongst the Blessings of Fortune, some are in our own Possession, as Preferment, Honour, Birth, and Riches, some are in the Possession of others, and amongst these we may reckon Reputation and Fame. Now altho' the former sort of Goods seem more desirable, being such of which we may promise to ourselves a more lasting Security, nevertheless the later are of greater Importance, as being the very Foundation of all Civil Actions, and Glorious Undertake. Reputation is a Jewel highly to be valued, being got with Difficulty, lost Easily, and being once Lost, is hardly or never to be Retrieved. It is the Opinion which the World has of a Man's Merit and Virtue: Like Letters of Credit, it procures a Man Respect wherever he comes, and is ready every where to supply his Occasions. I know it is something Slavish and Hazardous to depend upon the Breath of others, for the Opinion of Men being many times grounded upon Prejudice and Partial Affection, False Informations, and Vulgar Fame (all which are very Unequal and Fallacious Measures) it may fall out so, That one who is really Deserving, may have the Misfortune to be Cried down, and to be Trampled in the dust, whilst some Inconsiderable, but Fortunate Fool, shall be saluted every where with a Prosperous and Healthful Air. To this purpose 'tis not Impertinent to relate a History, which Monsieur Facet tells us of a certain Gentleman in France, who, though he had as good a Genius for Poetry as any of his Time, could never gain any Credit upon that Account; at length to convince the World of the Unjustice done him, he made use of this Expedient. It happened that there was much Enquiry amongst the Beaux Esprits, after a piece of Malherbe, a certain Poet in Reputation amongst those of his own Profession. The foresaid Gentleman, having had the good Fortune to meet with this Work of Malherbe, he composes something of his own in the same way, and in Imitation of his Argument, which he made public to the World, avouching it to be the Work of that celebrated Author. The Critics had no sooner cast their Eyes upon it, but they presently seemed ravished with Joy, lifting up their Hands and Eyes at every Verse, making long Pauses at every Stanza, and breaking forth ever and anon into Admiration of the Divine Spirit and Excellency of that Auth●r, and had much ado to recover themselves out of the Ecstasy. After this, the foresaid Gentleman shows these Critics the True and Genuine Piece of Malherbe, pretending that it was something of his own, which he composed in Imitation of him, as having Affinity with the same Argument. But see the Effects of Opinion and Prejudice! No sooner had they tasted of three or four Verses, but they presently began to look Sour, and Cavil at them. The Sense, says one, is Low and Trivial, the Expressions, says another, are Flat and Ridiculous, the Words were Improper, hardly one of them good French, and most absurdly misplaced, cries a third. After they had Anatomised and Tortured half a dozen Verses at this Unmerciful rate, they thought it but lost Labour to proceed any further, and so threw down the Paper, deeming the Author to have had the Style and Genius of a Swisser rather than of a Frenchman. In fine, when they once came to understand the true Authors both of one and of the other, they were not a little surprised at their own Partial Judgement, and ever after held the Gentleman in that degree of Reputation, which was due to his Merit. Men acquire Reputation several ways: First, Upon the account of their Natural Perfections, whether of Body or Mind. Next upon the account of the Moral Virtues; and lastly, upon the account of their Civil Capacities, such as Prudence in the Administration of Business, Justness in Commerce, Ability and Integrity in Office, in all which Faculties, there is required something of Artifice and Address. Some Men are very Lucky in vending their Counterfeit Ware, but when the Imposture is once discovered, they are blasted ever after, so that even their real Virtues will gain them but little Credit; for indeed there is no Man under Heaven more Ridiculous and Odious than a Hypocrite. Applause is a thing very near of Kin to Reputation, only 'tis of a Nature more Momentany, as requiring always fresh Supplies from new Actions. The ways of getting it are chief such as these, viz. Liberality, Affability, giving of Respect, Officiousness, or a Promptness to Oblige. But the surest way, is, To make a Show of having a Public Spirit, without the least Bias of Self-Interest, and especially by undertaking the Protection of an Inferior against a Superior; which Method is ever more Plausible and Winning, the Greater the Person is with whom we do contend, or the Greater the Party is which it does endeavour to Support: This is called Popularity, which when it looks asquint at Government, (as we may find perhaps in Modern Examples) 'tis of Pernicious Consequence, for the greatest Traitors have been ever those who have endeavoured to Cajole the simple Multitude, and to draw them on to act a part in their own Ambitious Designs, by pretending to espouse their Grievances. There is a Sly sort of way by which many labour to win Applause, that is, When they think they Deserve well, they will be still Discommending themselves, and their Actions, to that Degree, as shall put a Force on others to commend them: For when a Man is so Copious in Undervaluing himself, and withal affects a kind of Modesty in Reporting his own Performances, no man can be so Rude and ill Bred, as not to help him at such a Lift; but realy this way is so Common, Gross and Fulsome, as cannot choose but Nauseate the Hearer, and render the Relation very Impertinent and Ridiculous. Some Men have a Knack of Commending others to their Faces, to the Intent they may repay them in the same Goyn, which is no other than that Horse-Civility of Nab me, and I'll nab thee. 'Tis something more Artificial for a Man, To Commend that in another, in which he knows himself to be in some measure Eminent; though really a Man speaks his Merit best by Silence, unless it be in such Cases where the Truth of his Actions is Questioned or Defamed, for here a Man may openly assert his own Merit, where Silence would be accounted Cowardice and a Confession of Gild. Reputation is a Purchase which every Man ought by all fair Means to Perserve, not only for the Credit and Lustre it gives to all the Actions of his Life, but for the great Difficulties of Recovering it again when once 'tis Lost. If this happen through a Man's Misdemeanour, 'twill be a long time before he recover his former Station, nor will this be brought about too, but by many Proofs of a real Amendment. If it happen through another Default, as by Slander and Defamation, I know not how the Detractor can fairly make Reparation for such an Injury: For though an Honest Man's Credit will not easily be blasted amongst those who know him, yet a False Report being once let lose into the open Air, it flies every where, and is in an hundred Places at once, where the Injured Party is not known, and where 'tis Impossible he should be Present to make his own Defence, or suppose the Slanderer should have so much Conscience as to Confess his own Gild (which rarely or never happens) yet 'tis a thousand to one if such a Confession does ever arrive to the same Persons, who are prepossessed with former Reports. Besides, the Majority of Men being Malicious, and Prone to Believe, or, for Talks-sake, to Speak all the ill things they hear of others, I conceive it almost Impossible, to make an Adequate Satisfaction for such an Injury, by Washing out the Blots of a Defamation which is Artificially managed, and with a Show of Probability. I know not whether Machiavel's Rule holds always, which is, To throw Dirt enough, and be sure some will stick: I rather incline to the Opinion of Favorinus; That Strong and Violent Calumnies are not the most Injurious: Because Men of Judgement will conclude that they proceed from Malice, and to give little Credit to them, whereas he who faintly Commends another, is many times more Mischievous, for he seems to possess Men with an Opinion that he is his Friend, from whence they will conclude, that 'tis want of Merit that sets him at so low a rate. Our Laws, Methinks, seem a little too Remiss against Defamations. 'Tis true, the Peerage is well secured, or perhaps they are a little too Rigorous on their Behalf; but for the Gentry, who are many times Equal to Peers, both as to Family and Fortune, they may not hope for any such suitable Reparation; but in this Case they are Levelled with the Meanest of the People, nay, in some Sense they are Worse: For Injuries of this Nature, if they be offered to a Gentleman, are measured by a Verdict of Twelve Men, who being generally Clowns, or mean Yeomen, and having an Aversion or Hatred for the Gentry, are very Incompetent Judges of Honour. 'Tis not every Opprobrious Word which ought to be brought before a Tribunal, this would be Trivial and Endless, but certainly, there may be some Slanders so contrived, and of that rank Malice, as may prove as Injurious as Death itself, and for which, a Man might expect from some Juries, such a Consideration of Damage, as would expose the Complainant but to further Contempt and Scorn; whereas he who does but Forty Shillings Injury in Stealing of a Beast, shall lose his Life. I do not justify the Use of Duels, but this seems Consonant to Common Reason, that when the Laws of a Country do not give a Man Relief, by the Law of Nature he may relieve himself, so that in some Circumstances, if the loss of Reputation be Equal to that of our dearest Enjoyments, and if Reputation may be ruined by Lies, as well as by real Misdemeanours, I think they are not to be looked upon as the most Guilty of Criminals, who endeavour to vindicate an Injured Innocence with their Lives: To prevent all which Mischiefs, there cannot be a better Expedient, than the Establishment of a Court of Honour. As for Fame it is of two Sorts. First, That which is Vulgarly so called, which is the same with common Rumour or Report: This kind of Fame is Inconsiderable and Base, and with good Reason is called Mendax, hence all Scandalous and Defamatory Libels are called Famosi. But there is another Sort of Fame, of a far different Nature, being the Product of an Extraordinary Merit, confirmed by the Suffrages of Mankind, and by the concurring Testimonies of Time. Fame and Reputation differ very much, First in respect of the Subject: Reputation may belong to Private Persons of Mean and Common Merit; but Fame belongs to those of a greater Genius, such as in Ancient Times were called Hero's: Next they differ in respect of Extent, the Sphere of Reputation is properly circumscribed within the narrow Territories of a Man's own Acquaintance, but Fame reigns where a Man never was, nor never can be. In the last place, they differ in respect of Duration: Reputation properly belongs to the Living, for it is nothing but the Credit which a Man gains in the Opinion of men, by his Actions and Conduct, so that we cannot say with any Congruity, that Achilles, Alexander, or Phidias are now in Reputation, but we may say that they are at this day Famous: For Fame is not terminated with Life, but does rather Commence after Death, and so by a continual Propagation through all the Succession of Ages, Crescit Eundo, it grows greater by the Progress, not only in Degree, but in Dimension: So that I doubt not, but that the Fame of Homer is now much greater, than when the seven Towns contended for his Birth, I say greater, not only in the Opinion of men, but in the Universality and Extent: For what was then celebrated in the narrow Cantons of Greece, is now diffused through the vaster Circles of the Universe; and so we may say of the rest of the Ancient Worthies, whose Fame will be Celebrated to the last Moment of Time. We cannot blame Men therefore, if they be more than ordinary desirous, to purchase this Treasure, which will not only Embalm their Memories, and make them Fragrant, but also render them Immortal. Fame seems to marshal Men in this Order. In the first place are Lawgivers; such as Numa, Solon, and Lycurgus, etc. These reduce Mankind into Civil Society, and leave them those Maxims by which Kingdoms grow and flourish. In the next place, are the Founders of Nations, such as Cyrus and Romulus: these I place after the other, the later seeming only to make the Body, but the former give the Soul to Government: For Kingdoms once founded, if they be not preserved by found Laws, will quickly run to Ruin. In the third place, are the Preservers of Commonwealths, and these are of two Sorts: First, such as by Military Prowess deliver their Country from Invasion and Ruin, and of this kind were Themistocles, Scipio, and some others of old: Or secondly, they are such, who by their Vigilance and Conduct, preserve the State from Civil Discord and Conspiracies, and such a one was Cicero. As for those who fight for the Enlargement of Empire and Glory, though they pretend to make Fame the Motive, they have really the least Title to it of any, unless it be in the same Sense as Herostratus had, who, to get himself a Name, burned the Ephesian Temple, with this further Addition only to the Impiety, that they make all Mankind the Sacrifice: For, besides the Waste and Desolation of Places not only Profane but Sacred, they are never Satiated with Humane Blood, and all to get the Style of Glorious; whereas indeed the Best of them, come short of many Bruits, in a true Generous and Martial Valour: And if fight an Equal or a Stronger Enemy, be a thing which may deserve an Altar, I know not but Cocks and Dogs may, after the Egyptian Rites, be Deified, since they far Exceed the proudest Hero's in Bravery and Courage. They who challenge the next Rank in the Court of Fame, are the Founders and Restorers of several Sciences, and of other Professions Beneficial to Mankind, as Galen, and Hypocrates for Physic; Ulpian for the Laws, Euclid, Archimedes, Proclus, etc. for the Mathematics; Socrates, Plato, Zeno, Epicurus, and others for Philosophy; with Infinite more of later Date. As for Aristotle, his Genius would have suited well with the Ottoman Government, since he endeavoured to acquire Empire in Learning, by Strangling his Brethren. To these I might add the Patrons of Learning, but that their Quality and other Merits, place them, many times, in a higher Degree of Fame: For such a one was Augustus Cesar of old, and King Francis the first is Celebrated amongst the Princes of this later Age, for a great Cherisher of Learning and Learned Men. Nor may we ommit to mention the Founders of Colleges and Hospitals, and of other Public Works, whether of Charity, or of Civil Benefit. The last Order of Men who deserve a Place in the Register of Fame, are the Inventors of Arts, as of Navigation, Painting, Sculpture, Printing, with Infinite other Mechanical, Natural, and Experimental Discoveries, and here I know not, whether that Society lately Instituted in England, might not be Entitled to further Honour, besides that of being styled the Royal, were the first Design of that Company duly followed and encouraged. As for those who endeavoured to make their Names Perpetual, by Stupendious and Expensive Works, as by Pyramids, Obelisks, the Colossus of Rhodes, with many such like Prodigious and Vain Designs, tho' they might give occasion for their Names to be remembered in after Ages, they had no just Pretensions to Fame, The Emperor's Trajan and Antoninus, did really Acquire and Transfer greater Glory to Posterity, by the Styles of Optimus and Pius, than by their Columns at this day extant, though beautified with their Trophies, and other Figures representing their Heroic Actions. A Pillar or Temple, though of Marble, cannot be so Polished, nor so Solid and Durable a Monument, as a Public Work, which shall render after-Generations Happy; so that the Universality of the Benefit, is that which gives Life, Amplitude, and Perpetuity to Fame. Ostentation and Vain Glory are false Colours of Fame, and under this Head we may reduce those, who hope to get a Name by Pompous Shows, Rich Furniture, Splendid Retinues, and Profuse Entertainments, all which, when they exceed their due Circumstances, do indeed make the Actions talked of, but 'tis in such a way, as 'twere much better to be ever in Obscurity: For such generally are Condemned by Wise men, Flattered by Sycophants, Cheated by Knaves, and are the Companions of Fools. There are some who Acquire Fame, by endeavouring to Eat it, as though like a Shadow, 'twould fly from those who follow it, but follow those who fly it. Of this Nature we have many Examples, amongst Religious Persons of the Primitive Times: We may judge the Best of them, and that their Behaviour proceeded from Christian Modesty, though otherwise we find them to be many times Men, that is, Subject to Ambition and Passions as well as others. Also amongst the Philosophers, we may meet with some few, who, like Diogenes, became Illustrious by affecting Obscurity. However, 'tis certain that the most Subtle and Ambitious of Persons, do most times make the greatest Show of Humility. There is one who may make Profession of being Servus Servorum, who in Reality, declares himself to be Dominus Dominorum; so that the Lower the Shaft is drawn, the Higher is the Flight designed. This Method, whether it proceed from Hypocrisy, or from a real Apprehension of Self-Insufficiency, 'tis certain that it makes after-Fame more Great; for most men will attribute the Change to Merit. Things which seem to rise above the Level of their Natures, carry with them some Show of Miracles, which will be sure to create Admiration, which is the Mother of Fame. Besides, in an Obscure State, lesser Virtues are more discernible, than in a state which is more Conspicuous, like a Candle which shines in the Dark, but makes no Appearance at all, when 'tis set amongst greater Lights, and exposed to the open Day. CHAP. XXVIII. Of Conversation. HAving, in the foregoing Chapters, considered this Great and Beautiful Creature Man, in all the Organs and Perfections of Body and Mind, let us now take a general Survey of him as one Consummate and Entire Piece, and as he stands exposed to View, in the several Postures and Circumstances of Life. He who would judge aright of a curious Statue, considers first, With what Exactness every Member is framed and polished, than he considers the Air and Symmetry of the Whole, and the Correspondence of the Parts to one another. He takes his several Stands, and when he has surrounded the Figure, and seen it well in all its Direct and Side-views, and finds all to be Uniform and Natural, then is he ravished with a real Pleasure in Contemplating the Genius and Ingenuity of the Artist. First then, we will view Man in the several Figures that he makes, when he stands in Concert with others of his own Nature, and when he stands Solitary and alone. Whether it be a Defect, or a Perfection of Man's Nature, to be obnoxious to Change, is not worth our Dispute; 'tis sufficient for our present Purpose, to consider that God who hath made all things in the wisest manner, has made them subject to Vicissitude, and contrary Dispositions. Thus Summer and Winter, Day and Night, Labour and Rest, Repletion and Want, with all the Alterations of Life, does not only serve to Embellish Nature in General, by a grateful Variety, but they are useful also in the Sense and Relish which they give to one another. For our Purpose, Man, though he be intended by Nature for a Sociable Creature, and be Capable of great Improvement and Pleasure, by Converse, yet were he obliged always to be in Company, his Spirits would soon be Exhausted. And on the other hand, though Solitude be very Beneficial, by giving him Leisure to recollect his Thoughts and Spirits, and to review his Actions in Silence, yet he nevertheless, who is reduced to a perpetual Retreat, except he be furnished with Extraordinary Abilities of Body and Mind, will, for want of new Objects to employ his Thoughts, find himself assaulted with Legions of his own Phantasms, all which will create in him greater Distraction, than the confused Noise of an Impertinent and Importunate Crowd. As to the Subject which is before us, in this, as in many other Cases of Life, the Opinion and Practice of the Majority ought by no means to give the Rule, and to pass for the Suffrage of Reason. By going into Company men generally understand nothing else, but going to the Alehouse, or in the Gentiler Phrase, the Tavern. I know that the Generality of Mankind is of another Sentiment: This Vice is only National, and being so of Course, it requires a Commentary in an English Style. And because, Gentlemen of this Denomination, would be thought to be Merry, I will be men I with them for once. Let us suppose then a Club of Honest Fellows, to meet together in some such place of Reputation for good Liquor: After a familiar Hug or two, down they sit, and, with wonderful Civility, they drink one another's Healths, and the Healths of their Mistresses: From thence they pass to His Majestie's, and think they act the Part of Loyal Subjects, by prefixing his Name to a Debauch, many of which could as well part with their Blood, as pay their Proportion in a Subsidy, when it is really for His Majestie's and the Nation's Safety, though perhaps the Sum required of them does not amount to one single Share in a Reckoning. After His majesty's Health, 'tis fit we should drink the Health of our Friends, for Example, of the L. Lieutenant of the County, and of some of his Deputy Lieutenants: This Knight, that Esquire, that honest Fellow must not be forgotten, though he be unknown to me by any Obligation, and probably as very a Sot as any in the Company. No sooner has one performed his part with a good Grace, but another succeeds, and does Right to the Friends and Acquaintance of the first; then a Third and a Fourth come on: By this time they begin to be Mellow, and to Contest; this man has not ha●… it, that man's Glass was not full, and to make up the Harmony, one sings a drunken Song, a second Dances, another talks Obscenely, a fourth gins to be Abusive. This man swears Oaths of a deeper Tincture, than that of the Wine he drinks; that Man pretends to be a Wit, and spouts Poetry by Enthusiasm; another goes a strain higher, and spits Atheism and Blasphemy. Here one Lies more Profoundly than he Drinks, Bragging of the Quarrels he has had with Men, and of the Favours with Women: There another does nothing but Curse and Damn the Drawer, for bringing up bad Wine. Here is a Politician, who is for securing the King's Person against Treasonable Plots, in the Sense as a Man would secure the Person of his Enemy, by Confining him, and by depriving him of all Means and Liberty to Act; another is for Settling Religion, for Purging the Clergy, and Rooting out of Popery. And amongst such a Medley of Humours, 'tis much if there be not one who would be thought a downright Honest Fellow, by discovering what he knows of his Friend's Concerns, and of his own; and to let you see, he shows you all that is within him, he Vomits out whatsoever is lodged in his Stomach, and in his Breast too, which proves many times the more Loathsome of the two, I mean his Unclean Thoughts; to all which let us add the Smoke and Ordure, the Confusion of Tongues, the Clattering of Pots, and the Knocking for Drawers, with many other Disorders, of which any one would be sufficient to break the Brains of any Sober person. In fine, after five or six Hours sweet Refreshment in this way, the Company gins to Rise up, or rather to Fall down one after another, and in the midst of Stink, Darkness and Confusion, every one Staggers his several way, and by the help of Servants are laid to Kennel, where for the rest, 'tis fit only to be known by a Scavenger. 'Tis true, all good Fellows do not make Merry to this Depth of Bestiality, though 'tis seldom, but they arrive to some Degree or other of it; and he who comes off best, will have but too much Reason, I fear, to lament his Loss: For admitting such a Conversation shall become Habitual, as it seldom falls out otherwise, they will in Time be Sensible of a Notable Decay, First, in their Natural Parts, Secondly, in their Reputation, in the next place in their Health, and lastly in their Estates, which are the four great Blessings so Essential to man's Felicity, that the Loss of any one of them is sufficient to make him Miserable. And 'tis certainly but a Sad thing, when a man, upon the Close of his Days, in stead of looking backwards upon the Virtuous Actions of his past Life, and forwards upon the Rewards which do attend them in a Future, shall have nothing to entertain his Thoughts with, but his past Surfeits, his present Pains, and his future Misery; or if there be any Spark of Sense or Reason yet Unquenched, 'twill serve only to discover to him his Irrecoverable Loss, and to make his Condition more Sad and Deplorable. I have known many, who, whilst they have enjoyed all the Advantages of a Vigorous Youth, and of an Ingenious Education, whilst they have lain in the Bosom of Arts and Literature and have had all the Encouragements of present Maintenance, and of future Preferments, notwithstanding all these, have stifled all their Natural Endowments, together with their present Enjoyments, as also all the Hopes of a Future and Solid Happiness, insomuch that at the Age of Thirty, when a man Naturally is in his greatest Strength and Beauty, when his Parts are most Florid, his Spirits in the highest Circulation, and all the Faculties of Body and Mind, are in their full Flower and Lustre, than I say, they have with great Expense and Pain, arrived, if it be not Improper to say so, to the lowest Sink of Sottishness and Stupidity. I am not of so Morose Principles, as utterly to banish all good Fellowship in this kind: The many Occasions of Life, and the frequent Rencounter of Friends, do invite, if not force Men, sometimes to take this Liberty. That which is justly Taxable is Frequency, and above all, that Gentile Ceremony of drinking Healths, with Provocations to others to do the same, though their Constitutions of Body be never so Repugnant. I know the drinking of Healths is a Custom, in its own Nature, Inoffensive and Indifferent: For me to Drink, is an Act of Nature, and to Remember my Friend, is an Act of Moral Virtue, now in Drinking of a Health, these two are joined in one. Notwithstanding 'tis a certain Rule in all things of this Nature, That where the doing of an Act, can produce little or no Good, but is probable to produce much Evil, 'tis Safest to omit it, and of this kind is the Drinking of Healths without dispute as being the Cement of Drunkenness, and consequently the Source of all those Fatal Mischiefs, and of that Beastliness which attend it. And to show the Absurdity of this Ceremony, I would gladly know, Why we may not as well Eat as Drink one another's Healths, since Eating contributes as much to Life and Health as Drinking; and why all Persons maugre the Reluctancy of their Appetite, and the Weakness of their Constitutions, should not be forced to Eat so many Slices of Powdered Beef, to the Good-health and Prosperity of so many Ladies and Gentlemen, as a Trencher-Champion shall be pleased to name. Nay further; Exercise, no doubt, contributes to Health as well as Drinking, such as Riding for the Purpose, which is not only terminated in the Benefit of the Rider, but of another Person, to whom, I may be, and am ofttimes Serviceable by this Exercise, which I cannot be by Drinking. Let us suppose then a Company of Gentlemen, to meet together for their Recreation, would it not seem strange and Extravagant, if these Gentlemen should be obliged to Ride one another's Healths, and the Healths of their Mistresses; and that though one be Corpulent, another Gouty, a third Aged, yet maugre all Impediments, every one must Mount and Ride at the same Tantarrah, though it were down a Precipice, to show their Courage? This Frolic of Riding would certainly seem very Extravagant and Ridiculous, and yet 'tis less Extravagant than Drinking Healths to Excess, for in this Engagement, most, if not all, are certain to break their Brains, whereas in the other Exercise, some one or two only, is but in a Probability to break his Neck. Besides, Estate, Credit, and Natural Parts are not in so great Danger here, as under Drunkenness and Intemperance, nor is the Performance attended with so much Nastiness and Brutality, as in the other Engagement, and may therefore pass for the more Rational Divertisement. 'Twere much to be wished, That as we follow the Vices, so also that we would imitate the Virtues of other Nations in this Particular, of those, I mean, who are blessed with the Warmer Influence of the Sun: They never resort to these Common Houses, but as they do to other Common Houses, into which all enter in case of Necessity, and then away; but in stead of Drinking-Clubbs, they have Academies, either for Music, for Refining their Language, for Exercises of Oratory, or for Conferences about the Improvements of Art and Nature. Indeed our Royal Society was a Noble Institution, and is better esteemed of by Foreigners, than by the Generality of our Natives. 'Tis Pity but it had a due Encouragement, and were propagated with a Succession of Inquisitive and Ingenious Persons, and by a daily Addition of new Discoveries. 'Twere to be wished also, That some such like Societies as those above mentioned, were encouraged in other Cities of this Kingdom. They have also in Roman-Catholick Countries, Religious Companies and Sodalities, some of which are very Useful and Beneficial to the Public. The like also might be Countenanced in England, without Danger of Popery, and would be found to be less Destructive to Government, Religion and Property, than many of our Factions Coffeehouses, or those Secret Assemblies and Fraternities of Fanatic Clowns; and so I have done making Merry with my Good-fellows, and shall return to my serious way again. Whosoever associates himself with another in a way of Familiarity and Converse, aught to propose one or both of these two Ends, viz. Either to Communicate or to Receive Benefit, which may be as well by Improving our Knowledge, as by Refreshing our Spirits, over tired with Business, Labour and Study, in an Innocent Liberty of Pastime and Discourse. And to this end, Every man ought to have a Jealousy of those Discontented and Saturnine Tempers, who are ever apt to interpret all things in the Worst Sense, and if any Miscarriage happen to be discovered, in the Heat and Confidence of Conversation, they are not over Candid in their Comments, nor over Faithful in Concealing them, especially if there be any thing of Interest which may tempt them to be . Can a Man be exalted to that Perfection, as at one View to Survey all the several Humours, Passions, Designs and Follies in the Inhabitants but of one City only, 'twould appear doubtless to him, to be a greater Chaos, than that out of which Nature was at first formed, and it would increase his Pleasure and Admiration, to consider, That all these Creatures, acting by Different and Irreconcilable Principles, do notwithstanding all pretend, or at least should pretend, to act in Conformity to one standing Principle of Nature, viz. that of Humane Reason. Indeed nothing under a Faculty Divinely assisted, is able to look upon such an Infinite Number of Contradictions at once. However, 'tis not Difficult for an ordinary Capacity, severally to behold a great Number of them, by entering into the Company and Conversations of Men. I shall not enter upon the detail by descanting upon the Humours of Rhodomants, of Foplings and the like, they are too Trivial and Ridiculous, in every place, as well as upon the Stage. I shall only give my Reader a Taste in two Sorts of Men, which we meet with in all Company, and which are the Pest of all Innocent Converse. The first is the great and Impertinent Talker. He is nothing but Drum and Noise, like an Impudent Domestic Intelligence, he pretends to know all the Affairs of City and Country, and vents nothing but Impertinence and Lies: He runs from one thing to another without any Coherence of Subject, Order of Words, and with great Precipitancy and Confusion of Tongue. And if a Person offer to fasten on any lose Thread of his Jargon, he replies upon him, Pray Sir, hold give me Leave to speak but a Word Sir, and I have done, and then runs he on at his former Carrier of Nonsense and Impertinence, and so toties quoties, till at length he has so stupefied and stunned his Hearers, with his continual Rattle and Tautology, that like men amazed, they know not what it was that began the Discourse, nor what has been said all the while, nor what to reply; and if they recover their Senses a little, and enter upon a new Subject, this Drone with his Buzz puts them all to Silence, and then tames himself upon his Extraordinary Abilities in Discourse. There is another Sort of Men yet more Troublesome than the former, I mean the Opiniaster, who to show his Parts, upon every little Opposition will take up the Cudgels, and fall to Contradiction, and this too with so much Sweat and Resolution, with such Preambles and Hypotheses, with such Pompous Expressions, and with such a Supercilious and Magisterial Mien, as though an Article of Faith, or the highest Point of Interest and Honour were brought upon the Trial; whereas the Subject perhaps is some poor Trivial thing, as, Whether a Cloak or a Campaigne Coat be more Convenient, which puts me in mind of a great Dispute raised in Holland, which was, Whether the Hook caught the Fish, or the Fish the Hook: Upon which Grand and Weighty Question, the Company was divided, but soon fell together again, I mean by the Ears, and in Conclusion the whole City took the Alarm, and many men lost their Lives in the Tumult before the Knotty Point could be decided. Whosoever would gain Applause in Conversation, aught at least to pretend to Modesty, and to observe the several Critical Minutes of Speech: he ought to Introduce himself rather by Adding some new Reasons, to confirm the Discourse of him who spoke last, and so Insinuate into the good Opinion of his Hearer, than by a Dogmatic and Insolent Contradiction, force the other to stand stiffly upon his Guard, and to give him a Defiance. If it happen at any time, that a man gain the Point upon another, he ought by all means to avoid Ostentation, which looks like an Insult. They who are the greatest Masters in this Art, will seem at least to make some Ingenuous Submission to him they engage with, or else with great Dexterity, divert the Discourse to another Subject, which doth not only leave them in the good Opinion of him they do contend with, but acquires to them a general Applause and Esteem of Courtesy. Let a Man's Natural or Acquired Parts be never so great, there are two sorts of Persons, with which a Man ought not to Contest, for the sake of Argument: The first are those who are much above us in Authority and Power; for besides the Indecency of Pressing upon our Betters, such Persons, when they find themselves subdued by another's Reason, will find a time to make him Sensible that they are above him at other Points, which may prove, if not more Acute, yet more Wounding than his Arguments. Another Sort of Men, with which we ought to avoid Contention, are such as are much our Inferiors, for by Coping with them, a Man renders them Equal to himself, and in case he gets the Better, 'twill be no Credit, and in case he be Foiled, 'twill leave a Mark of Shame and Reproach upon him: So that here, as in many other Cases of Life, a Man ought not, in Prudence, to enter upon such Actions, where the Miscarriage will be far more Injurious and Detrimental, than the Success can be Beneficial. 'Tis no small piece of Art also, for a Man to make little or no Show of that in which the World knows him to be Skilful: For by this means, his real Ignorance of many things, will be Concealed, whilst men conclude, his Silence in them, to proceed from the same Stock of Reservedness and Modesty. The Knack of telling facetious Stories, if they be not often Repeated, and too Romantic, is much more Taking in Company, than close and pressing Reasonings; for these seem to put the Audience too much upon the Rack, and many times force them to rally all their Strength to make good the Counterpoint, which is a thing too Serious for a mixed Company, whereas the former Method leaves all men in a calm Repose, and by a Soft and Gentle Progress, gains upon the Hearers Fancy, and the pleasant Representation of Passages by Fables, or some Witty Emblems and Allusions, will not fail to make a firm Impression upon his Memory. There is another sort of Entertainment, much used in better Company, which is Raillery, being nothing but the sudden Sallies of a pleasant Wit Animadverting upon the little Faults and Passages of another, with some Tartness mixed with Pleasantness, being such only as rubs the Skin, and seems to quicken the Spirit of him who is the Subject of it, to make use of the same Weapons. He who uses this Liberty, aught to be well acquainted, with the Persons he sports with, and to beware of the satire; but above all not to make the great and notorious Miscarriages of another, as also his Blemishes in Body or Reputation, to be the wanton Subject of his Wit, though it be clothed in Sense never so Ambiguous, and the Fancy be never so Pleasant, lest his own Defects be brought upon the Stage, in which case all the Spectators would be glad to see the first Aggressor put out of Countenance. 'Twas prudently done of Valerius, who being Crooked, and Splay-footed, would, by way of Prevention, still begin to Droll upon himself, and when he had said all the Abusive things to which such a Deformed Body was obnoxious, and had left nothing for another Wit to work upon, then would he begin to fall upon the Company, and make them the Subject of his Sport. Raillery seldom goes beyond the third reparty, without pricking to the Quick, and he who finds himself to be mastered at this Point, will easily be wrought upon to make his Repass, with something that is more piercing than his Wit. Those who are much addicted to Mirth and Raillery, are Subject to one Inconvenience, viz. To have their Words doubtfully Interpreted: For speaking always in the same Merry Air, we know not when they are Serious, which, in a further Progress, will beget a Habit of Artifice and Dissimulation, a thing by no means to be practised amongst Friends, as being of far less Repute, than a plain and frank Expression. There is also a kind of gross Raillery, in use with those of a meaner Education, being nothing but a Rustic and Clownish Jeering, accompanied with some Smutty Phrases, and with Excessive Laughter: This for the most part proves no other but Abuse, and is never pretended to by any Person of Breeding and Ingenuity. Ceremonies are to be avoided in Private and Familiar Society. Some little Forms of Compliment are useful, to Usher in Converse, but whatsoever is Studied or Pointed, looks Pedantic, and would be as Comical and Ridiculous as to see a Man with a Spanish Tread, with a Paste-board Collar, and starched Whiskers, to make his Entry, and after a profound Reverence, to Invite the Company to a Collation; or (to pursue the Metaphor) to see the same Collation Consecrated by the long and solemn Ejaculations of a Groaning Brother. He also who enters into Company to Divert, and to be Diverted, ought not to have his Countenance embarrassed, and his Business to be read by every one in his Forehead: Such a one, like a piece of Leaven, will quickly make the whole Lump Sour. A Frank and Cheerful Air, without speaking a word, does, many times, dispose the Company to Mirth and good Humour, though, in Persons who frequent the Court, something more of Artifice is requisite: Such generally are Supple, and are always ready to accommodate themselves to others Fancies, by some Formalities of an Obliging Stamp, and by performing little Offices of Kindness, and by promising Great ones. The Guard, which such aught to keep always upon their Words and Actions, makes them generally Dissemblers, such at least as conceal their own Sentiments and Counsels, by a thousand Disguises, which is a thing in some measure Commendable in all Persons, but is Essential to a Courtier, who also, by the humble Applications he daily makes to the great Favourites and Ladies, gets such a Habit of Cringing and Cajolerie, that he cannot divest himself of such Formalities, when he comes into the Campany of Inferior Persons. CHAP. XXIX. Of Solitude. AS Multitude and Company contribute much to the Refreshment of Nature, and to the Recreation of our exhausted Spirits, so it sometimes proves more safe, and less Expensive to seek the same Effect from Solitude. To illustrate this Point a little, let us suppose a man, who for along time has been harassed and wearied with the Prosecution of a Vexatious Suit, of such a one, for Instance, who, being in some Subordinate Figure of the Government, and who, Attending the Irregular Motions of greater Bodies, where he meets with nothing but Repulse, and what is worse, Delay, is at the same time baited by others of Inferior Quality, who, as they are more Numerous, so are they generally more Importunate, and Unseasonable in their Applications. To this, let us add the continual Noise and Ordure of the Town, the bad Accommodation he meets with, and probably, the disproportionable Expense he is obliged to lie at, for the Bribing Ministers, and perhaps for the Conveniencies of Life: When a Man, I say, has for a long time lain under all the Tortures of Purse, Body and Mind, and is upon the matter, at the last Gasp; let us suppose such a one to make a Truce with his Cruel Assassinant Business, and to seek his Recovery from some Remote and Solitary Retreat. No sooner is he arrived to this place of Refreshment, but he finds a Benefit in the Change, he who before was in a continual Circulation, and hurried about with the Rapid Motion which is annexed to the Circumference of Fortune's Wheel, is now in his Centre. Every Breath of Air he sucks, is like Balsam to a Bleeding Wound, his Passions Cool, his Blood runs Calmly, and within the Banks, and all things tend to Tranquillity and Rest. Like a Man who lately come off the Seas, stands upon the Promontory, and sees the Dangers he has escaped: He compassionates the Miseries of others, who are struggling with the Waves, and are every moment in Danger to be swallowed up. He beholds the Foaming Monster coming on towards him with a roaring Noise, but his Footing is sure because he stands upon a Rock, and is above the Reach and Menaces of the Raging Element. And as his Station gives him Security, so does it afford him Pleasure, when he compares the Tempestuous Ocean under him, with the Expanse of Heaven over him, of which he has so clear a View, such as is infinitely more Immense, and is ever Beautiful and Serene. Now tell me what Herizon is like to this, where things so contrary and Distant, are at once represented to the Eye, and seem to terminate in one another. The Emblem reaches my Intentions, when I would compare the Storms and Agitations of this present Life, with that state of Stability, of which, Retreat and Solitude gives us so fair a Prospect. Besides the Delight of such Contemplations, let us consider the Advantage which a Man of Business has, when he can in Silence review his past Errors, and take new Measures without Disturbance. All things suggest themselves to his Memory faithfully and in order; so that Multiplicity of Affairs do not distract, nor false Informations blind his Judgement. From hence it was that the Founders of Religion and Government, Archimedes-like, have always drawn their Schemes with a profound Silence, and in places most remote from Conversation. Moses retired to a Mountain apart, when he received his Laws from Heaven. In like manner Numa and Mahomet, who were the Founders of two vast Monarchies, did frequently retire from all Humane Consort, that they might Project without Interruption; and to draw on the Credulous Multitude to yield Obedience to their Laws; they pretended to have secret Conferences with an Aegeria or a Gabriel. Whether the Sibyls received their prodigious Hints from Divine Information, or from a profound Contemplation, I will not dispute, certain 'tis that they lived recluse, and in perpetual Solitude: The dark Grotta's or Caves in which they lay, gave them a clear Sight of Remote and Future Things. They who would see with more Exactness, contract their Optics, and he which looks through a Chink or little Hole, will take a better Aim at the Mark, than one who gazes by an open Light. As for Spiritual things, and the Glories of another Life, 'tis certain that Retreat is of infinite Advantage. He who is in the bottom of a deep Well, has a distinct Prospect of the Stars which are above him, of which he could not have a sight were he above ground and in the Sunshine. To prosecute a little my Considerations upon this Subject, let us make a light Draught of that Innocent Pleasure and Satisfaction, which a Man finds when he is alone, if he may be said to be alone, who is surrounded with all the pleasant Scenes and Beauties of the whole Creation, with what Gust does he taste the chaste Delights of Nature? How Acute are his Senses, and how Sincere does every Object present itself? At once he sees all the Varieties of shady Woods, of lofty Trees, of fruitful Fields, and of flowery Meadows, together with distant Mountains, and their various Mixtures of Rocks and Valleys, of Light and Shadows, all which make a confused, but withal a most agreeable and charming Object. How Orient and Unsullied is every Flower, how admirable in its Contexture and Colour, and how untainted in its Smell? How refreshing is it to him to sit down at a Fountain Head, to hear the confused Melody of Birds, together with the Murmuring of the Crystal Waters; and to consider with what Purity they spring and issue from the Womb? How Fragrant is the Earth, how Temperate is the Air, how Clear and Gentle are the Streams, how Spotless and Virginlike does every thing present itself? and what a charming Languor surprises him, and makes him a willing Prisoner to his own Felicity? All his boiling Passions are here extinguished, Revenge is evaporated, and he fears not to be prosecuted by Treachery and Envy. The Rage of Ambition does now begin to leave him, and he finds the Torments of Love give place to the chaster Charms of Nature. Here he may turn and toss his Thoughts with Safety, and give Vent to the Troubles of his Breast: Here he may expostulate the Injuries of Fate without Danger of being overheard, and without the Terrors of an Arrest; in a word, here Pleasure and Security, here Health and Tranquillity do reign. 'Twas with good reason that Epicurus made choice of Gardens to teach in, when he proposed Pleasure for the chiefest Good; and let any Man of Sense tell me, though never so Sensual, whether a state of Solitude, so Innocent and Delightful, so Calm and Sedate as that which is now present to our Thoughts, be not infinitely beyond all the Recreations which Drink and Good-fellows can pretend to, nay beyond the Delights of Courts, where we meet with many Disgusts, and little Entertainment but Ceremony and Noise. Upon this Consideration doubtless 'twas, that two of the greatest Monarches that ever reigned, Dioclefian and Charles the Fifth, abandoned the Pomp of Empire in the midst of all its Fortunes and Flatteries, that they might enjoy the Pleasures of Solitude; and were I in Circumstances to make my Choice, I would prefer the Garden and little Partitions of a Carthusian's Cell, before the Walks and spacious Apartments of the Royal Palace. The Heathens certainly were sensible of this, when they consecrated the Owl to Minerva, which Bird living in perpetual Solitude and Obscurity, is a pregnant Emblem of the Way, by which we must attain to Wisdom. Such than are the Benefits of Solitude, which is to be enjoyed so far only, as may serve to compose Nature, and to add new Vigour to the Spirits, but is not to be looked upon as that State of Life, in which we must abide for ever. Man is born for the good of others as well as of himself, and is of an Active as well as of a Contemplative Nature: 'Tis requisite therefore that he sometimes change the Scenes, lest, living always in a perpetual Tenure of Life, that Ease should at length degenerate into a Stupidity and Lethargy. Besides, Regard is to be had to the Different Constitutions and Tempers of Men's Bodies. He who is of a Melancholy Nature, though he dream of nothing but Elysium, will in progress of time find his Dreams turn to Spectrums and Illusion. Every moving of the Leaves will be an Ambush, and every Worm a Serpent. Every living Creature he sees, will be a Wolf, a Dragon, and the soft Whispers on the Tree tops, will be like the Rattling of Spears and Lances; such than is the Constitution of our Nature, that it cannot long continue in the same Post, but that which once was its Torment and Vexation, after some short Returns of time, becomes its Refreshment. CHAP. XXX. Of Employment. IT being necessary for every man to be either in Company or alone, conformable to these two Stations, Divine Providence has proposed to him two different Courses of Life, viz. Employment and Study, the one being the Entertainment of the Sociable, and the other of the Solitary Person; and this it does with regard to the two grand Functions of Nature, Action and Cogitation, without one or other of which Man soon degenerates into a Beast. Thinking is so essential to our Nature, that when the Thoughts have nothing Solid to feed upon, like Eager Spirits, they either feed upon themselves, or rather than starve, they fasten upon some unsuitable Nutriment, which ripens into Vice. One who has neither Books nor a Calling, to employ himself upon, is infinitely more tired, than he who groans under all the Fatigues and Encumbrances of Life. How tedious does the time appear, as though it had lost its Wings? The constant Flux and Intervals of Day and Night, look like that Imaginary duration before the World was made, the Light of the one makes no new Discoveries, and the Shades of the other yield no Refreshment, Men's Parts, if they be not Exercised, like standing Water, will soon Corrupt. How many are there in the World, who, for want of a due Exertion, languish hourly, they become Negligent and Supine, and are at length extinguished in utter Stupidity. Others, when their Spirits are Evaporated, as soon they will be, when there is no Recruit by a substantial Aliment, retain nothing but the Caput Mortuum, some dry, adust Relics of their former Flames, which, turning to Melancholy, fills their Minds with a thousand Vanities and Terrors. Others, who are of a Temper a little more Mercurial, replenish their Imaginations with various Images, they form this or that Representation of things, and their little Productions, with all the Beauties that Fancy can create: After this, they contrive how to give Birth to their Chimeras, and to try whether there be a real Pleasure in the things themselves; and thus they pass from the false Pleasure of Thinking, to the real Pain of Practising their fond Extravagancies. There is yet another Sort of Men, who, being of a Restless Disposition, entertain a vain Opinion of their own Abilities, and to prosecute their Animosities upon the Public, for some imaginary Disgrace, they dream of nothing but new Modeling the Government, of Displacing Corrupt Ministers, of Redressing Old Grievances, and of making new Alliances, viz. Betwixt those old Friends, which have been so Constant always to one another's Interest, Sedition and Treason. There are yet others who fly at a lower quarry, their chiefest Studies being Pastime and Recreation: Visits, Plays, Balls and Games, whether of the Field or House, are pretty Amusements to fill up the vacant Intervals of time, which generally are those that fall betwixt the hours of Rising and of Going to Bed; but they who are for a more Masculine Divertisement, take their way to the Alehouse or to the Tavern. These and many other such ingenious Inventions, are the serious Employments of the greater part of Mankind, and are of wonderful Virtue to sweeten those severe Thoughts, which by the impartial Representation of some Important Duty, would go near to Strangle us. 'Tis foolish for Men to think, That because they are Great, they may be therefore Lazy: The glorious Luminaries of Heaven are in perpetual Motion, and are always streaming down their benign Influence upon this lower world. The Turks, who, in point of good Oeconomy and Policy, are many times Clearer sighted than the Christians, are very Remarkable in this, that even their Emperors, are obliged to make Profession of some Art or other, to be the subject of their continuing Occupation, as well as a Precedent for others to imitate. We feed most hearty of the Game which is of our own Killing, and he doubtless, who eats of the Fruit of his own Labour, and drinks of the Wine which his own Hands have Planted, tastes with a better Relish and Appetite, than another who is nourished only by the Sweat of his Neighbour's Brow; and as his Labour finds him Meat and Sauce, so does it contribute to his Rest, the Nights seem sweet and short, because they pass away in one sound and continued Sleep. There is a Race of Men in the World, Men of Business they call themselves, they are in a continual Hurry, and beat always upon the Hoof. If we offer to salute a Man of this Denomination, he cannot possibly stay, he must speak with this Lord and with that Gentleman, the time of Assignation is almost past, and should he fail, 'twould be of some hundred pounds' Damage. Whosoever considers this Carrier, how he Trots, Sweats, and Pants, and Ladders at the Mouth, would really believe that the very Government were in an Agony, and yet at the end of his Journey, he is not one Step further advanced upon his way, than when he first set forth, and like the Horse in the Mill, though he walk about from Morning to Night, he is still in the same place and round, and is perhaps as poor and blind too. These than are the Flies which, sitting on the Chariot Wheel, admire themselves, and imagine all the Dust they see, to be raised by the fluttering of their little Wings. There are yet other busy Flies too, whose Property 'tis to vex all they fasten on, not only by buzzing always about their Ears, but by stinging them too by their unseasonable and importunate Offices: Such a one pretends great Friendship to every one he meets, and will be a part of his Confidence whether he will or no, and having little or no Business of his own to do, he will be giving Advice always in another's. If his Affairs succeed well, he arrogates all the Glory to himself, by telling the World that 'twas he who put him in the way; but if they succeed ill, he will not fail to reproach his pretended Friend, in all places wherever he comes, saying, That had he harkened to my Advice, it had been otherwise with him, but he may thank himself. Miserable is the Condition of the Man who falls amongst such Infects, and yet they swarm in so great Plenty every where, especially in the time of Sunshine, that 'tis almost impossible to avoid them. The first Entrance into Business, is attended generally with some Discouragements; the Threshold is the place at which we are most apt to stumble: Whosoever therefore would enter upon a Course of Life, by which he would make his Fortunes, aught to guide himself by the Advice of others who are well advanced in Years, and have, for a long time, been acquainted with the Road he is about to travel in, otherwise he will be still changing Measures, and be ready to quit his Design upon every little Difficulty. Having conquered this Pass, his Journey will seem Pleasant, and 'twill be as difficult for him to leave the way, as it was at first to find it: Frequent Practice will beget a Habit, and when he gins to taste of the sweet Fruits of Industry, viz. Profit, and perhaps Honour, these, like Whip and Spur, will make him double his Pace. By constant Exercise the Man is always kept in breath, and feels a vital Heat in the quick Circulation of his Spirits: Every Faculty stands Sentinel, and does discharge his Duty upon the first Alarm; so that his Conversation is Polite, his Parts are Florid, and the whole Contexture of his Actions is Nervous and Masculine. But if he be a Person who has a public Charge and Figure in the Government, the Respect that salutes him in Places where he is present, and the Fame which proclaims him in Places more remote and distant, and the public View of all, to which he is exposed, cannot choose but create in him a firm and generous Resolution, to preserve himself in the same honourable Station, by all laudable and noble Actions. The Truth of it is, If there be any thing which may make Ambition a Virtue, it consists in Using the Opportunities it gives us to Oblige and to Reward, and yet this Inclination would become Abortive, were it not advanced upon the Theatre, and surrounded with Dependencies. CHAP. XXXI. Of Study. THey who are qualified with public Employments are few in number, compared with others, who, though of equal Merit, by reason of some cross Influence under which they lie, seem condemned to Obscurity and to perpetual Retreat. However it is, there is not that person living, who has the Soul and Spirit of a Man, but by the Improvement of his Natural Parts, he may reap Benefit from his Private State, and may be useful also to the Public if he please, I mean by the way of Study and Learning. By Study, I do not understand that Amusement of Thought, which consists only in Contemplation, and in a calm Review of the several Accidents of Life, which kind of Reflection is in itself very Innocent and Pleasant, and is most useful also to Devotion; but by Study I intent something more Severe, as being an Obstinate Investigation and Research of Truth, (yet unknown) by the Help and Assistance of such Natural Mediums, as Reason does suggest; a thing, which though it consist in a Sedentary and Unactive Life, is really more toilsome, than the grand Employ of managing an Intrigue of State, amongst all the Cross Interests and Counsels of Foreign Courts: Witness the constant Vigils, that Consumption of Spirits, and the many Languors and Diseases which attend those, who bend all their Nerves and Faculties, and travel through all the Labyrinths of Argument, that they may at length arrive to some new Discovery. And let Men think what they please, they who are Successful herein, are as Beneficial to the World, as those who are in the perpetual Circles of an Active Life. The Influence of a Minister of State, rarely extends beyond the Limits of his own Government, and his Abilities determine with his Life: whereas a Learned Man, by the Help of Printing, is present in a thousand places at once, he extends his Power to Foreign Kingdoms, he makes his Conquest over all that is called Rational, and the Benefit derived on Mankind, is as durable as the Books and Monuments in which 'tis Registered. To illustrate this Argument a little more particularly, I shall consider the Benefit of Study, either in respect of the person, who makes it his Profession, or in respect of the Public. In respect of a Man's self, its Fruit is Knowledge, which is a Ray of the Divine Perfection, such as at the same time that it doth illuminate the Organ, doth draw it upwards also towards the first Fountain of Light, whose Brightness can never diminish, and whose Emanations are Infinite. The Mind of Man, Eaglelike, the more 'tis Irradiated, the higher still 'twill be Rising towards the Sun. 'Twould be infinite to expatiate over all the Fields of Knowledge; I have already touched upon Natural Philosophy and Metaphysics, or Contemplation; I shall for Illustration sake, only mention two Branches more of Humane Knowledge, viz. the Mathematics and History. First for the Mathematics; if there be any Knowledge can charm a Thinking Man, 'tis this. It lays its Foundation upon Principles very easy to be understood, but withal most Firm and Solid. The Progress is most Natural, being nothing but a Chain made up of so many Links or Propositions, of which one draws on another, so that Reason here finds the greatest Freedom and Pleasure imaginable, in being tied to give Assent. If it be true what some Philosophers have with great Plausibility delivered, That the chiefest Good consists in having and Desiring, or in such a Fruition as does beget a further Appetite, and that Appetite a further Fruition, and so in infinitum. The Mathematics certainly make the greatest Show of teaching us this Summum bonum: For no sooner can a man arrive to the Knowledge of one thing, but that thing does discover another, and this again gives him a Prospect of a third, and so on; the Understanding still diffusing itself over infinite Regions of new Discoveries, till by a right Measure and Number, it is at length able to compute the Face and Greatness of the Universe. Here then Satisfaction and Appetite are still interchanged, whilst we drink we thirst, whereas in all other Enjoyments, be they never so great and affecting, we find there is a Satiety, after which we begin to nauseate and reject them. Alexander thought it to have been his greatest Glory to Subdue the World, which when he had brought to pass, to his own thinking, he then grew sad and wept, that there was not another for him to conquer. Another great Benefit which we gather from this kind of Knowledge, is the Certainty of its Truth; it bears the Understanding in a full and clear View of it; there are no Fallacious Shadows of verisimilitude, there is no Suspicion of any latent Mistake, turn and wind the Proposition which way you will, the Mind is in a full Acquiescence, and in a most secure Possession of its purchase. All other Knowledge how pleasant soever, is but Conjectural and Litigious, subject to perpetual Alterations, and leads the Enquirers, many times into Infinite Perplexities, and endless Contentions with one another: Whereas all are reconciled in this; Stoic and Peripatetic, Catholic and Heretic, will all agree in a Mathematical Demonstration, which is yet a further Demonstration of the great Beauty and Excellency of Truth. Next for History, this must be confessed to come short of the Mathematics, as to Method and Certainty: Besides the Mistakes of Time and the Errors of MSS. we are led many times into the dark, by the Ignorance and Partiality of the Writers themselves. No man can tell what was done in the Age past, but with some Uncertainty, nor what is done in his own Age, but with Danger. So that those who are most Faithful, are many times less Knowing, and they, who have most Knowledge of Transactions, are generally lest Faithful, being drawn, either by hopes of Reward, to flatter the Person, or by fear of Misfortune, to suppress the Truth. But notwithstanding this, Transactions in the Gross are well enough transmitted to Posterity, and where they are Defective in some Circumstances, there remains sufficient for Instruction, and to entertain the Reader with Pleasure. Here I talk familiarly with the wisest Philosophers; I have their Precepts for my Direction, their Lives for an Example, and their Deaths for my Encouragement. Here the grand Affairs of many Ages and Kingdoms, are at once offered to my View: Here I converse with great Hero's, whom, in their Life time, I might not salute so much as with my Eye. Here I am admitted Confident to the greatest Statesmen; I know all their Consultations, and more than what they themselves for the most part knew, I mean their Issue and Events. I hear Demosthenes and Cicero Haranguing it in full Senate. I see and hear Augustus and Trajan speaking to their Armies, with the Courage and Bravery of Soldiers, and with the Cheerfulness and Clemency of Princes. I see them riding in their Triumphant Chariots. I see them casting down their Gifts upon the People, who at the same time return them again, by sending up their Vows and Prayers for their Life and Felicity. Great and Infinite are the Images which History makes upon my Mind, and such, in Comparison of which, whatsoever can be represented unto me by my own Sense and Observation, is most Trivial and Contemptible; how wretched then must the ordinary Accidents and Occurrences of Life seem to be, when they obtrude themselves upon such Noble Thoughts? All these privileges I arrive to without Attendance and Crowding, without Bribery and Flattering: I have Recourse to my Books as often as I please, and when my Mind is Distracted with little Impertinencies, I divert myself with the choicest Company, and with my most faithful Counselors. Reason is the undubitable Birthright of every Man; in this both Prince and Peasant have a common Interest, and although some acquire a larger Possession of it than others, yet all, by Nature, have the same Right and Title to it; so that I may challenge an Interest in whatsoever is Rational, whether Foreign or Native, or whether it be tendered to me by the Living, or coveighed to me by the Works and Monuments of past Ages. But the Benefit of Study and Learning, will appear to be yet further Considerable in respect of the Public. It is to History that the Lawyer has Recourse for Precedents, and the Statesman for Counsel: It is from History that a General may learn what Stratagems to use, what Dangers to avoid, and what Advantages or Disadvantages may arise from Woods or Hills, from Winds and Rivers, together with what Countries are fittest to be made the Seat of War, and what Measures are to be taken with Allies, with whatsoever else relates to the Military Art. It is from History that Princes take their most secure Directions: Here they will find the cunning Arts, by which Popular Faction and Rebellion may Usurp upon them, and by what Methods they may be Suppressed. Here they may learn what Dangers may arise from Sensual Pleasures and Flatteries, from too much Security and too much Remissness. In a word, here they may find the whole Art of Government, and if they will not make, at least they may read their Fortunes in the Examples of others: For though Men die, and one Age succeeds another, yet we find through all the Revolutions of Time, that the same Causes, still return, and yet Men are still swayed by the same Lusts and Passions. The Inclinations of Men in this Age, differ no more from those of others in the Precedent, than the Productions of this year's Spring, differ from those of the former year, that is to say, in Time only, not in Nature. So that though they seem to vanish and die, yet a new Concurrence of the same Causes, will not fail to produce the same Effects. Next for Natural Philosophy, 'tis this which penetrates into the Causes of all Productions, it understands the Mixture and Virtues of Bodies, whether Plants or Minerals, with their several Qualities and Uses. It unfolds the Secrets of Rarefaction and Condensation, of Light, Heat and Motion; it searches into the Fabric of Man's Body, and understands the use of every Organ, as also the ways by which Generation, Nutrition, and Sensation are brought to pass, so that whatsoever Physic can contribute to Life or Health, is derived from hence. In the last place, for the Mathematician, 'tis he who teaches a General the Art of Fortification, and Encamping, as also all the Figures of an Army, with all the Military Engines of Death and Battery. An Archimedes sitting in his Study, was, with his Rule and Compass, able to Defend Syracuse against the Roman Army. 'Tis the Mathematician who supports Commerce and Traffic, by teaching Navigation; he measures the Ocean by Longitudes and Latitudes, he bridles the Overflowing Sea, and upon the Dangerous and Unstable Waves, marks out Roads to all Parts of the World. He gives the Figure and Dimensions of the Heavens, he divides the Earth into Climates, and fixes the Boundaries of Kingdoms. To him the Merchant has recourse in all his Calculations, to him the Husbandman's obliged for all his Instruments, and by him he is taught to Level and Survey. 'Tis he who gives Directions, for raising stately Palaces, for Designing of Triumphal Arches, and for the Building of useful Bridges, and Aqueducts. 'Tis he who gives the Symmetry of Sculpture, the true Distances of Perspective, with the Proportions of Figures and Feature. In a word, all Mechanical Works with the Curiosities of Art, together with whatsoever else is useful and Ornamental, are the Effects of his Invention. 'Twould be endless to run through all the Liberal Arts, or to speak of the Usefulness of Ethics, of the Power of Rhetoric, of the sweet Delights and Charms of Poetry, with all the Benefits which accrue to Man and Nature from Study. It is sufficient only to have pointed out some General Instances, from whence it does appear, That all the Blessings of Nature, as also all the Ornaments and Comforts of Life, are derived from the Solitary and Thinking Man. It has been observed indeed by some, That Learned Men are not fit for Business, being taken up with general Speculations, and that they never descend so low, as to the Infirmities and Defects of Nature. The sweetness of Repose makes them shun Labour, and if at any time they enter into Business, the Noise Deafens them, the Diversity of Humours Disgust them, continual Thoughts, Labour and Anxiety wearies them, and the Multiplicity and Weight of Affairs, does at length overwhelm them to the Ground. 'Tis observed also of such, That being for the most part of an Innocent Conversation, they judge of others by themselves, and so coming into the World, they take false Measures of Men, and find their Error when 'tis too late. Besides, living a Sedentary Life, and withdrawn from Company, they are Timorous and Soft in their Looks, which ought to be as firm as Steel, being to confront Men of Impudence, and to curb the potent Corruptions of the Times. 'Tis true, there are many bookish Men of a Cold and Phlegmatic Temper; their constant Application to Study, makes their Blood restagnate, and they are so far from discovering any Capacity to govern others, that they know not how to manage themselves in ordinary Conversation, being Mopish, Sneaking, and Speaking always in Counter-time. The least Form of Compliment puts them into Confusion, and makes them commit a thousand Absurdities. Their Gests, Habits, and Expressions are all Comical and Ridiculous, and any brisk Attaque puts them out of Countenance. These and such like are the Disgraces, to which hard Study, and easy Nature, do many times betray Men. But notwithstanding this, as it hath been already in some measure demonstrated, so will it further appear, That Learning, in its due Extent and Latitude, is extremely requisite even in Civil and Public Employs. Learning, properly, is not a perpetual Poring upon one Topick, it is not a piece of Pedantry; it is a Theory of Men, as well as of Nature, and its Object is as Large and Universal, as the Notion of a Being. It considers things in their remoter Causes, and by a Methodical Train, and Connexion of Consequences, it draws the Judgement to assent to something which was unknown before. It Measures and it Computes: It Multiplies and it Divides: It Unfolds the Signification of Languages, and Comprehends the Transactions of former Ages: It Understands the Diversities of Climates and Countries, and can make a Discovery from thence of the several Inclinations, Interests, and Dispositions of Men. It knows the Bent and Fabric of the Passions, and in Conformity to them, it teaches us to frame our Actions, and to form our Expressions. These and many others are the Benefits of Learning, and such as I take to be Essentially requisite, in one who is Qualified with any considerable Trust in Government: 'Tis true, with all this there must be joined Experience, which cannot be acquired, but by entering into the several Conversations of Men; to which let me add, a just Balancing of things with things, an impartial Survey of our own Capacities and Defects, a sagacious Prospect of what may hinder or advance our Counsels, an exact Accommodation of the Wheels to one another, together with a steady Patience and Resolution, which, like a Spring, sets the Engine going, and keeps it in Motion to the end. 'Twas with great Signification that the Poets feigned Minerva, to be the Goddess of Arms, and the Patroness of Arts; for if we have Recourse to Examples, we shall find that Learning and Empire, did ever grow up and flourish together: This we find verified in the ancient Thebans, and in all the Principalities of Greece, excepting Sparta. Amongst the Romans, when was Empire in greater Glory, than in the Times of Augustus? yet when did Arts flourish more? And even his Predecessor Julius, the greatest Hero that ever lived, and Founder of that vast Monarchy, at the first was but a Pleader at the Bar: And Scipio, one of the greatest Generals the World ever had, was ever in his Study, and at his Book, when he could but gain a few minute's Respite from the Duties of War, conversing always with Polybius, and Panaetius, the two great Masters of that Age, for Humanity, and all Polite Literature. From the times of Nerva down to Commodus, we find a Succession of Wise, and most of them Learned Princes, and the happiest Age that ever that Empire knew, whether we consider its vast Extent, or the great Felicity and Peace in which 'twas governed. Amongst the Goths there was none so Famous as Theoderick: After many Ages of Confusion and Barbarism, he made Italy again to flourish, and this chief by the Conduct of that great and learned Man Boeuml; thius. But not to run beyond the Limits of our own Kingdom, who amongst the Saxons was a greater Encourager of Learning, than King Alfred? yet who was more Victorious in Arms, or more Wise and Regular in the Administration of State? And to come nearer to our own Memory, when was the English Nation so Happy, as under the long and glorious Reign of Queen Elizabeth? who was known to have been not only the most Learned of all her Sex, but to have exceeded also, in this particular, all the Monarches and Princes of Christendom then living, and was not Inferior to the Best of them in Wisdom and all Princelike Virtues. In this later Age, we may observe two very remarkable things, which have much advanced Learning, of which the first was the Art of Printing. This most Ingenious Invention (though sometimes of Pernicious as well as of Useful Consequence) presently set the Wits of that Age awork, in searching Libraries, and publishing good ancient Authors, with all Correction imaginable; whereas for many Ages before there was nothing to be heard of in the World, but the Jars of Scotists and Thomists, of Nominals and Reals, with such like Impertinencies: And how Industrious soever these Authors seemed to be, their Learning was little, and their Benefit less, except it were to create Disputes and Niceties about Religion, which afterwards turned to their own Damage. Great indeed are the Advantages we enjoy from Printing; for by this means men's Thoughts are presently diffused through all Parts of the World, and this too in a Character which all Men can read. A Man may now procure a whole Library at a Cheaper Rate, than formerly a Volume; besides, the Minds of Authors are more certainly known when they are published in this way, than when they are Copied from hand to hand, by thousands of Persons, and so transmitted down through several Ages, in which case there must needs be great Errors, from the Ignorance, Negligence and Partiality of Transcribers. But not to defraud Antiquity of what is justly due, their Industry certainly deserves Praise and Commendation, who, upon such great Disadvantages, did perform so much. 'Twas a matter of great Expense then, for a Man to buy a Book or two, and the Work almost of his Life to transcribe them: And even they, who had the Benefit of Public Libraries, could not meet with the tenth Part of that, which every common Shop is now furnished with, though it must be confessed withal, that if this Invention has produced more Wheat, so has it produced more Tares and Trash too. Another Remarkable thing, which occasioned the Reformation of Learning, was the Divisions about Religion: This happening not long after the Invention of Printing, Men's Wits, as well as their Pens, were by Reciprocal Provocations, sharpened, so that with all Industry they applied themselves to review the Fathers and Counsels, with other Monuments of Antiquity, and to Examine one another's Writings, with all Imaginable Exactness. Many Great and Learned Men appeared on both Sides, and amongst those who adhered to the Papacy, there were none more Eminent than the Jesuits, who, to give them their due, have left infinite Monuments of their Indefatigable Industry and Learning, not only in Matters of Controversy about Religion, but in Relation also to Humane Literature. CHAP. XXXII. Of Marriage and Single Life. I Shall not here discourse of Celibacy and Marriage, in relation to the public Benefit, for 'tis most certain that the latter has much the Advantage of the former, as being that, without which, Mankind would soon decay, and be extinguished. The Measures therefore which I take of these two States, shall be with respect to the particular Parties themselves. Should a Man only single out and expose to View, all the Advantages of which one State is Capable, as also the Inconveniencies only to which the other is Liable, 'twere not Difficult to make either of them appear Happy or Miserable, according to the Fancy and Partiality of the Writer: Therefore I shall put them both into the Balance, and with an Indifferent Hand, weigh them with all their Circumstances, whether Good or Evil. The different Rites and Ceremonies of Marriage, according to the Difference of Countries, have been almost Infinite, and cannot therefore be spoken to, without exceeding the just Limits of an Essay. As for the Ends for which Marriage was instituted, they are either Natural, as Pleasure, and the Propagation of Mankind; or else Civil, as mutual Society, Augmentation of Fortune, Procurement of Friends, by the Access of new Relations, with many such like Considerations and Advantages. As touching the Propagation of Humane Species, the Eastern people ever esteemed of precose and early Marriages, excepting only the Spartans', who being a Warlike Nation, conceived that Men of Maturer Years, were fit for Conjugal Duty, and would beget a more lusty Race. On the contrary, the Romans Married Young, and by the Papian Law, those who abstained till the Age of 25. or , were uncapable of Receiving or Giving Legacies, and degraded also from many Civil Privileges. Polygamy is a kind of Matrimony, which, how pleasing soever it may be to Nature, is no way consonant to Civil Society: For besides the Emulation or Jealousy, which must needs arise amongst many Wives, to the utter Disturbance of a Family; 'tis certain also, (how great a Paradox soever it may seem to be) that it is a great Hindrance to Increase, as appears to this day by the Turks: For though their Country be so Vast and Spacious, yet is it in a manner Desolate, compared with some Parts of Europe, and yet the Inhabitants of Turkey, are above two thirds of them Greeks and Jews. The Reason hereof is not Difficult to give; for admitting there is an equal Number both of Men and Women born into the World, let us suppose, for our purpose, that there be one hundred of each Sex. Let five Men therefore take but five Wives apiece, there will remain by this Account, but seventy five Women, to be Married to ninety five Men, so that twenty Men must of necessity want Wives: And the Proportion is the same in any number whatsoever, though never so great. 'Tis true, we read of old, That the Jews, to whom Polygamy was indulged, were very Numerous; but this certainly proceeded not from that Institution, but from the particular Temper and Constitution of that People, or from some other secret Cause, for even at this day, though they be made to conform in this particular, to the Nations amongst whom they live, yet are they more Numerous than ever they were in their own Country, so that, were they united into one Body, they would exceed, in Number, any Nation now extant upon the Earth. The Celibacy of the Clergy in Roman Catholic Countries, must be admitted also to be some Hindrance to Increase, though not so much as is pretended: For we see in France, notwithstanding their numerous Clergy, and the many thousands of Religious Houses, that they are still exceeding Populous. 'Tis true, 'tis not so in Italy, but there are other Reasons to be given for this, besides the Celibacy of the Clergy. For besides their frequent Castrations, and besides that Abominable and Unnatural Lust, to which that Nation is addicted, by means whereof, the other Sex is less made use of; 'tis observed also in many Places, especially in the State of Florence, that the Elder Brothers do usually give themselves over to Liberty, and to the Pleasures of their Mistresses, leaving the Cadets to inherit their Estates, whom they look upon as noot her than Stallions, upon the matter good for nothing, but to marry, and to keep up the Family: It being a thing for the most part Indifferent with them, whether the Propagation be from themselves or others, so it be from some, who are of the same Stock; so that Nephews and Nieces, are held with them in the same Degrees of Affection, as Sons and Daughters. Mutual Comfort and Conversation is another End of Marriage. For a long Acquaintance cannot choose but create a great Confidence, and where the Tie is Indissoluble, there is a Necessity of adhering one to the other. They therefore who enter into these Engagements, ought well to understand one another's Humours, and to pitch upon something, which shall be a Lasting Cement to unite Affections, and to render Life Sociable, and this may be either from some Charms of Person; or what is infinitely more Solid and Durable, from some agreeable Inclinations and Consent of Nature and Disposition. They therefore are not in the happiest Condition, who Mary only upon Report, as do the Turks, where all the Account they have of one another, is from some of their Relations, who are of the other Sex, and may freely converse together, and discourse the Point without Jealousy and Disturbance. One thing generally they take heed to, viz. to procure some of their Relations, who are of the same Sex, and of an Acquaintance with the other Party, to get a Sight of the naked Body, which by the Opportunity of Baths, is not Difficult; and by this means, all Deformities and Sores are exposed to View, which otherways would lie concealed under the various Arts of Dress: A thing certainly which ought to be enquired into discreetly, and as far as Modesty will allow, since the Deformity or Diseases of the Parents, leave a Blemish and Taint, many times, upon their Issue; so that besides the Content which every Man may propose to his own Fancy, he ought at least to be as careful of his Race, as he is of that of his Horses, where the Fairest and most Beautiful are made Choice of for Breed; which thing, though it be practised amongst the Vtopians, might be admitted also as useful in a real Government, under some Circumstances. And here again it is, that Princes are much more Unhappy than their Subjects: For by Marrying with their Equals, 'tis evident that the Greatness of their Quality, must allow them but a very narrow Compass to make their Choice in, and these peradventure such as they never can see, till the Knot be tied and all be consummated. Reasons of State force them many times to marry such, whom the Dictates of Nature would Repudiate, though it seldom happens, that even those Politic Considerations to which they sacrifice their Private Enjoyments, are of any lasting Benefit. Increase of Riches is looked upon by most, to be a good Inducement to Marriage. 'Tis known to what a Greatness Spain has grown by observing this Maxim, Tu Foelix Austria nube. They have gained more by the Distaff, than ever France could conquer by the Sword. And even amongst us now a-days, he is accounted Fortunate and Discreet who marries a Rich Wife, though perhaps the fair Lady, to whom the Courtship is made, with all the Protestations of Love and Honour, be nothing but some Warped, Toothless and Withered Hagg. Let a Gentlewoman be well Born, let her be Modest and Ingeniously Educated, if she has not Money, she must in all Probability die a Dry, Old, Discontented Maid, or else marry with some mean, inconsiderable Person: But if she be Handsome, 'tis possible she may be preferred to be a Miss; a Course of Life, as the World now goes, which many value before the Fortunes and honest Enjoyments of the Marriagebed. 'Tis true, in Foreign Countries, there is another third way for those, whom either Fortune or Nature, have made less liable to be Courted, I mean Religious Houses, where all such Persons may, without Reproach, pass away the Remainder of their Lives in a Creditable Retreat; but such Expedients suit not with the temper of this Climate: If Fortune and Phillis be not allied to one another, there is probably no other Road for her to travel in, but the common High Way, unless she can draw in some Rich young Fop, who must by all means have Spurs clapped upon him, that he may make the greater Jingle. Marriage, by the Access of new Relations, many times becomes the Instrument of Raising men's Fortunes. He who marries the Daughter or Niece of a great Clergyman, or of a Man in Office, needs not dispute a Portion, and even in the State, as well as in the Church, we may observe one fourth at least, of those who are the Mignons of the Times, to hold their Places by Lady-Service: So that what some have noted, That he who hath Wife and Children, hath given Hostages to Fortune, is true only in a Restrained and Qualified Sense, in as much as single Persons are less Distracted with Thoughts of Providing for others; and are in a far greater Freedom also, to take up their Quarters in whatsoever Place, or with whatsoever Persons shall suit with their Occasions: So that having their Spirits in greater Vigour, and having in a manner all the Circumstances of Living, within their own Command, they seem to be much better prepared for choosing all due and proportionable Means, and to be much abler for Execution: And yet I know not, why one, who chooses the one meet and necessary Help , may not be accounted as Sage and Prudent as another, who, by Courting divers Humours, and by a long Train of Services, and of obsequeous Applications, does at length make his way to Preferment; though there seems to be this Difference between them, that one Walking by a borrowed Strength, when once that Support is withdrawn, if he be not a Man of much Personal Merit, he is in great Danger of Falling, or at least of being stopped in his further Progress; whereas the other, like a Man of Health and Maturity, walks by his own Strength: He relies not upon Crutches, nor has he Leading Strings fastened to his Shoulders to keep him from Falling. He treads his Ground with a good Assurance, and will, in all likelihood hold out his Journey to the End. As to Riches or Patrimonial Fortune, Single Men, living in Ease and Liberty, are commonly Profuse, and outlive their Estates; whereas the Married Man, by reason of his Charge and Family, is obliged to live Frugally, and to pursue some Industrious Course or other, which in the end puts him in the Road of Getting, and acquaints him with all the Ways and Arts, of those we call notable and thriving Men. so that as married Men are still generally more Interested and Subtle in their Deal than others, so are they less Sincere in their Affections and Friendships. Great is the Alteration betwixt the same Man married and single: For it has been observed that, the Change does not only touch the Man, but also his , his Hat, his Periwig, his Linen, all is Married; every thing about him looks a little Overworn and Smutty, so that the Man himself seems to be nothing but a Second-hand Garment, and what is worst of all, he commonly declines the Conversation of his old Friends, either out of Sullenness and Discontent, or what's more probable, by reason of some secret and malign Influence of his Wife; for many Women think that all Love is lost, which falls not into their own Bosoms. But the Case is otherways with those who profess Celibacy; for it being Natural to most or all Men, to Love to some Degree or other, they whose Affections are not limited to one Object, are prone to Compassionate Mankind in general, as hath been observed in such who live under the Obligations of Religious Vows, as Priests and Friars. Love is like a Torrent, which, when it is not confined to one Chanal, does diffuse itself over all the Neighbouring Fields, and glides along with a more soft and even Course; which kind of Love is far more Generous and Beneficial to the Public, whereas the other tends only to a Man's Private Solace and Content. And upon this Account also 'tis that a Single Life suits well with the Profession of a Clergyman, for such a one being constituted as a Spiritual Father, over many thousands peradventure, he can never have that Tenderness and Care over so numerous a Family, who chains his Affections to his Domestic and Conjugal Concerns. Besides, the married Man cannot exercise that Hospitality, nor perform those Works of Charity as the other, much less can he, who is always Solicitous about the Maintenance and Fortunes of his Children, have his Thoughts free, nor pursue his Duty without great Distraction, a thing which is a little unpleasant, and utterly Unsuitable with Men of abstracted Meditations, and with the abstruser Studies of Divinity. As for the Objection which is taken from the Scandals, which are sometimes given by the Unmarried Clergy, 'tis frivolous: For if we consider the matter Impartially, we shall find more Examples and greater Scandals amongst the Married, than amongst the others, whether, they be Laymen, or of the Spiritual Order. However 'twould be a thing extremely conducing to the Splendour of the Ecclesiastic Function, and consequently Beneficial to the whole Church, that Celibacy should be annexed, if not to the Persons, at least to the greater Dignities of the Church; for by this means no man would be restrained from Marriage, only in case he should think it Expedient to change his Condition, he might be obliged to quit his Dignity, and not rob the Altar of what is Consecrated to God, by converting it to the Use and Benefit of his private Family, though perhaps it be to maintain them only in a Secular Luxe and Splendour. Nor would this be a greater Restraint, than what those lie under, who enjoy Academic Preferments, which, though of less Consequence, are enjoined in Prudence to be Inconsistent with a Conjugal Estate. But leaving these and such like Considerations, to another Place, 'tis certain, That either State of Life has its proper Comforts and Troubles; so that the Circumstances of particular men, differing from one another, there can be no certain Standard proposed in the matter, but every Man ought to be accounted Wise and Prudent, who chooses that which is Suitable to his Genius, and most conducing to his own true Content and Happiness. CHAP. XXXIII. Of Death. THere are three Things which make the Consideration of Death very necessary. First, its Certainty; next, the Uncertainty of the Time, Place and Manner; and lastly, its Consequence. In Accidents of this Life, to which we are obnoxious, we are many times Remiss and Negligent about them, by reason of their Contingency, being such as may happen or not happen to us; and in case they do not happen, all our Thoughts about them are misspent. But 'tis not so betwixt us and Death; this will certainly seize us, and therefore we ought to be always ready to meet it, lest it coming on us at unawares, we fall into greater straits and Disorders. 'Tis a Tribute we all own to Nature, it being as necessary for a Man to die, as to be born. Flowers, Leaves and Fruits live we see, but for a Year; they Spring forth, Ripen, and then drop off, whereas the Plants which bore them, may continue yearly to bring forth anew, though after a certain Flux of Time, these also are cut off, or of their own natures Whither and Dye. Individual Men, who are, as it were, the Fruit of a Tree, are of a much shorter Duration, than the Family or Stock they are descended from, and yet we see that the Stock itself must at last decay: For Families which have flourished for many Ages, are at length reduced to their Primitive Obscurity and Dust: Nay the stately Cedars, whose Wood is said to preserve all other things from Worms and Corruption, must at length fall; even Kingdoms and Empires, how deep soever they be rooted, and how wide soever they extend their Arms. 'Tis in the Power of Art sometimes to prolong Life, but it is more the Practice of Art to Shorten it, but whatever Benefit there be, 'tis but a Reprieve at best, whilst the Execution is certain. There goes a pleasant Story of a certain Emperor of China, who, amongst his other vain Designs, had a great Desire to make his Life Immortal. A certain Knavish Physician of the Court, who pretended to be well skilled in preparing Drinks, gained Credit and Interest with the King, by giving out that he had a Secret, a curious Divine Elixir, which would not only Prolong Life, but Secure him from Death. The Potion was prepared and presented to the King, in the presence of all his great Officers and Ministers of State. One amongst the rest, endeavouring by all means possible, to divert the King from his foolish Fancy, but nothing prevailing, he made no more ado, but catching up the Immortal Cup, drank it roundly off. The Emperor fell immediately into a Rage; for believing that he was robbed of Immortality, he presently took Counsel what Death the bold Offender ought to suffer: At which the Daring Courtier, nothing daunted, told him Smilingly; Sir, take heed what you do, for 'tis not in your Power to kill me, being now made Immortal, but if I am yet capable to suffer Death, there is no reason for you to be angry with me, since I have not robbed you of the Immortal Cup, but undeceived you only, and by my own Experiment, delivered you from the Lies and Fraud of an Impostor. At this the Emperor was well pleased, and commended the Prudence and Behaviour of that Courtier. Let Kings flatter themselves, or be by others flattered, with the Styles of Glorious, and Invincible, they will yet find themselves to be but Mortal, and more Mortal perhaps than other Men. Nor can any Man upon sight of a Scull say, This was the Head which Love or Victory did Crown, or show a Difference betwixt Common and Imperial Dust. If we look over the best of the Roman Emperors, we shall find but few of them, to go off the Stage with dry Veins; nevertheless many of them found a way still to make themselves Immortal, for 'twas but for a Knight of the Post or two to Swear, That they saw the Soul of the Departed, carried up to Heaven, and he was presently Consecrated. So great and sacred is the Guest of Perjury, that if it be sometimes Capable to take away Men's Lives, so it has been at other times as Powerful, and more Bountiful in giving Life and Immortality to others, and to make them Gods. Another Consideration of Death, is that of its Uncertainty, in relation to the Circumstances of it, and of this we have Infinite Examples from all Places, Histories, and Ages. There are a sort of Knaves in the World who, by I know not what Acquaintance with the Stars, pretend to Predict the Destinies of Men; and there are a sort of Fools too, who are so Simple as to Credit them. Such Predictions are shot at Rovers, and if one of a thousand come near the Mark, 'tis presently the Work of Art, though if we examine such Reports, a little strictly, besides the manifest Falsity of almost all of them, the rest depend much upon the Fancy of the Hearer, and upon the Invention of the Reporter, who must make it seem something Strange, to gain Attention and Applause. Indeed it so falls out sometimes, that it is not Difficult to Foretell the Death of a Man, as in the case of some Diseased Persons, Malefactors, or where Designs are laid against another's Life, for here the Immediate Causes, whether Moral or Natural, are within our Sight; but to foretell such Events from General or Remoter Causes, or by any secret Instinct, is certainly vain. Strange Accidents indeed have sometimes happened, as that of Calphurnia's Dream, the Night before her Husband was murdered, etc. But this concludes nothing, it being no Wonder, if amongst Millions of Dreams and Predictions, some one or two should happen to be true. I know not whether he did well or ill, who when a flattering ginger made a Proffer to Calculate his Nativity, asked him whether ever he had calculated his own, be told him yes; and that 'twas his Destiny to live many years, etc. To whom the other replied that he was mistaken, and that he knew better than the Stars, that it was his Destiny to die within an hour; for he presently commanded him to be put to Death, and by this means made the Confutation of his Imposture to be his Punishment. The last Consideration of Death, has Relation to the State which follows it. They who are instructed in the Belief of future Rewards and Punishments, as also of their Nature and Duration, must needs have a mighty Concern upon their Thoughts, at the Approach of Death, which though it may be very Inconsiderable, if we consider it as a Tribute to Nature: yet when we look upon it as a Passage to Everlasting Happiness or Misery, it cannot choose but appear Terrible. Of all Men, they seem to be best prepared for this Hour, who have a good Assurance from the Justness of their Actions, and the Integrity of their Lives. But above all, such who think they die for the Confession and Defence of what they do believe, to be a Religious Truth, are of all others less liable to Fear, and do in an eminent manner Challenge a Crown; on the contrary they rejoice, and many times seem transported with Ecstasy, when they come to their Executions, and these are called Martyrs. Infinite was their Number, and great was their Courage and Constancy, in the Primitive Church, and even in later Times, we have many Examples in Men of all Persuasions, who have maintained their Opinions by Dying for them, and who seemed to leave the World with great Appearance of present Comfort, and of future Happiness. Jerome of Prague's Behaviour at his Death, made his very Enemies to pity and admire him; and the Anabaptists of Germany, by the Testimony of Florimond Raymond their Adversary, outdid those of the Roman-Catholick Communion; nay that execrable Impostor and Blasphemer, John of Leyden, might compare with any of the Primitive Martyrs, for Patience under his Torments, which yet were Exquisite enough, though short of his horrid Impieties. We can draw therefore no good Argument to prove the Truth of any Doctrine, from the Constancy of the Martyr: For, where Men are once persuaded they are in the Right, though it be never so great an Error, such a Persuasion shall be as Powerful as the Truth itself, and they will with Joy meet Death which as it puts a Period to their present Calamities, so does it promise to open to them a Door to Eternal Felicity. Sometimes wefind that even good and pious men have been Timorous when they came to Die. The Endearments of Life are strong Remarks, and the Considerations of Gild and Punishment, which the best of Men ought to have before their Eyes, are able to shake the stoutest Courage. They who suffer by the Hand of an Executioner, seem in some Respects to have an Advantage over such as die a Natural Death. First, they die generally with less Pain, and the Pain they undergo is of less Duration, than that of those who pine away by Sickness, unless it be in case of Torture. In the next place, they retain their Senses and Faculties, Entire to the last, so that they can fix their Minds upon their Future State, with more Strength and without Distraction. They can quit the Stage of Life with good Thoughts, though the Infamy which sometimes attends such a Death, as also the Calamities it entails upon Posterity, cannot choose but make it Bitter. We have many Examples of the Moralised Heathens, who suffered a Violent Death with all Imaginable Resolution: Some out of an Heroic Bravery; others upon the Apprehension they had of being in a more happy State; but generally upon a Persuasion of being reduced to the same Condition they were in before they were born, believing no other Immortality than that of Fame, nor no other Rewards after Death, than the Praise due from after Ages, upon the Remembrance of their Virtuous Actions. And certainly with Men of this Belief, 'twas not such Daring matter, to stare Death in the Face, and to Conquer all its Terrors by a Voluntary Submission to it; for 'twas no more but for a Man to close up all the Travails, Pains and Misfortunes of Life, with one Sweet and Eternal Sleep. Hence came these Reasonings of theirs; if there be any Sense after Death, the Soul than cannot but exult and triumph, for its Deliverance from the straight Imprisonment of the Body: That which immediately before was a Captive, is now set at Liberty, 'tis advanced on high; it has a free and a full Prospect of all the Glorious Sights in Nature: Here it looks down upon all humane and Mortal things, with a kind of Pity and Contempt, it sees all the Follies and Transactions of past Life at one View, and beholds those Divine Mysteries clearly and distinctly, whose Knowledge formerly it had so often sought in vain. But on the other hand, if there be nothing which survives the Body, he cannot be miserable who ceases to be: For if he has lost much, 'tis yet much more which he does not fear. He is now at everlasting Rest; the Fears and Miseries of Poverty, the Anxiety of Riches, the Vexations of a Process, do not devour him. He is not tormented with the Furies of Lust or Anger, he is not Envious at another's Felicity, nor Solicitous about his own. No public nor private Calamities disturb his ●…easures, no Scenes of Blood appear before his Eyes, no Dreams or Terrors of the Night discompose his Sleep: He does not hang in Suspense upon the Event of future things, which fall out always for the worse, he does not fear the Calumnies of the Base, nor the Frowns of the Great; he does not fear the Assaults of the Perfidious Assassinant, nor yet the more Dangerous and Mortal Wounds of a Perjured Tongue. In a word, the Evils he is delivered from, are greater than the Good things he is deprived of, and he is arrived to that Station of Security, from which he cannot be driven by Force, nor drawn off by Terrors. Why therefore should any one be Solicitous about another's Death, which will either make him Happy, or reduce him to his first Nothing? If Happy, 'tis Envy to deplore him; if Nothing, 'tis Folly. 'Tis Death which delivers the Prisoner from his Fetters, and the Slave and Captive from his Chain: 'Tis Death which rescues the Servant from the endless Toils of a Laborious Life, the Poor from Oppression, and makes the Beggar equal with Princes. Here Desperation finds a Remedy, all the Languors of Disease, all the Frustrations and Tediousness of Life, all the Infirmities of Age, all the Disquiets of the Passions, and all the Calamities of Fortune, with whatsoev●● can make a man Miserable, vanish in these Shades. Such as these were the Notions, which many of the more learned Heathens had of Death: But for all this we find it Natural to most men, to seek the Prolongation of Life by all means possible. The Poor man in the Fable, when he had drudged all day in cutting and carrying Thorns, at last, spent with Heat and Labour, he threw away his Burden, and sitting down upon the Ground, calls on Death to deliver him from his wretched Life: Grim Death presently appears with his Javelin in his hand, and asked him what he had to say; Nothing, replies the good Man, but that you will be so kind, as to help me up again with my Burden. Tho we often cry out of a weary Life, yet when once that ghastly Adversary appears, most men desire to return to their former Burden, and to toil longer amongst the Briars and Vexations of Life. The best Course therefore that a Man can take, to fortify himself against the Terrors of Death, is, To think often of it. The Wolf in the Fable, when he first saw the Lion, was ready to die with Fear; the next time he saw him, he was afraid indeed; but the third time he grew Bold to draw near, and to converse with him: Hence it is that Soldiers, who converse always with Wounds and Dying Men, are no ways concerned at the Fall of others, or at their own Danger: But this kind of Hardiness proceeds rather from Custom, than from a well settled Consideration. Naturally speaking, that which makes Men dread Death, is the evil of Privation rather than of Pain. The Separation of Soul and Body, in which consists Death, is probably without Sense, and whatever Pains precede it, they are short of the Dolours of many Diseases, and of other Disasters which every Man meets with, some time or other of his Life. But to bid an Eternal Adieu to Wife, Children, Friends, Pleasures, Pomps, Preferments, with all the Blandishments of this World, is uneasy to most Men, and to this Condition must the greatest Favourite of Fortune be reduced. The best Consideration therefore in this Case, is that of Epictetus, who compares the Course of Man's, Life to that of a Passenger at Sea, where the Patron or Master of the Vessel, being to take in Fresh Water, or some such necessary Provision, sets his Passengers ashore for Refreshment: To pass away the time a little, some fall to gathering Cockles, others Reeds, or some such Toys they meet with, yet so as to be always ready to leave them, whensoever the Master calls his Men aboard: So in this Life, instead of a Shell or Bulrush, thou may'st have a Wife, a Child, or some such fond Endearment: But when the Patron of the Bark calls upon thee to leave the Land, be ready to quit such Fancies, and run speedily to the Ship, lest being left behind, thou fail to arrive at the desired Haven: But if thou art Old, beware thou dost not wander far from thy Vessel, lest thou be not able to reach it, when thou art called away. The Evil which comes unlooked for, is most Astonishing, but when it is foreseen, it is half Digested before it touch us. Let a Man remember that he is born Subject to the Law of Nature, and that, as no Man dies, who did not sometimes live; so no Man lives who shall not sometimes die. Aemilius Paulus had two Sons of great Hopes and Virtue; of which one died four days before his Father's Triumph, the other, who rid with him in the Victorious Chariot, died the third day after; two sad Attendants to Usher in and close a Triumph, upon which, he made this Reflection in his Harangue to the Senate. When our Felicity was at the highest Pitch, I feared that Fortune would quickly change, and that Heaven had some Calamity in reserve; whereupon I made my Prayers to Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, That if there were any Misfortune hanging over the People of Rome, that they would divert it from them, by inflicting it upon my own House and Family. 'Tis well therefore with us Romans; for the Gods, by being Propitious to my Prayers, have so ordered it, that you should grieve at my Loss, rather than I should lament yours. Here was true Roman Metal, or rather Christian, had the Object of his Devotion, been as good as his Intention. No Man will ever be fit to die, who in his Life-time cannot be Content to part with all Temporal Enjoyments, nor can any Man be thus prepared, who is not Moderate in the Use of them, and Disengaged in his Affections for them; and indeed he who is thus disposed, does really enjoy most: For over strong Desires and Delights leave Men subject always to great Jealousies and Fears; so that the very Pleasure of Fruition; is lost in the Thoughts of being deprived of what we have in our actual Possession. The CONCLUSION. With some Considerations directing every Man towards the Attainment of his own Felicity. HAving, in the foregoing Chapters, Discoursed of Man, under the several Occurrences of his Life, I shall by way of Conclusion, sum up the precedent Considerations, by applying them to the State and Circumstance of every particular Person. This I shall endeavour to do, by showing, That all the Blessings of Fortune, how dear soever, are no Essential Part of Man's Felicity, but that his Happiness must be derived from other Principles, and such as lie within our own Power. I shall not amuse my Reader nor myself, by Commenting on the Opinions of the Ancients, touching Man's Ultimate Happiness or Good. Amongst the old Philosophers, the Stoics determined it to consist in a Tranquillity of Mind, free from all the Perturbations of the Passions: Others would have it to consist in a perpetual and interchangable Succession of Fruition and Desire. Amongst the Schoolmen, some would have it to consist in Intellectual Operations, because Man's chiefest Felicity aught to be seated in the Noblest of Faculties: Others, since good is the Object of the Will, refer Felicity to this Faculty, making it to consist in Action, and in the Exercise of Virtue. From all which Variety of Opinions we cannot draw a definition, but collect only a description of Man's Felicity by borrowing Light from each of the forementioned Seats. I conceive it therefore to consist in perpetual Returns of New Desires and New Enjoyments, accompanied with a Constant Serenity and Health of Mind. Neither do I limit the Object of Desire to things purely practical, since whatsoever is the Object of Knowledge, is the Object also of Desire; so that Desire must extend to all Perfections and Objects of the Understanding as well as of the Will. Now because the Objects of Knowledge and of Desire are Infinite, and Infinite Objects cannot be at once present to the Thoughts of any thing that is Finite, there must be an Infinite duration allowed to Man to make him Capable of receiving whatsoever may be the Object of Desire, which can never consist with this State of Nature, where all is momentany and uncertain, and even the greatest and most Permanent Productions are Circumscribed by the Finite Periods and Revolutions of Time. Waving therefore this Ultimate Felicity of Man, which implys an Immensurable or Eternal Duration, I shall determine the Consideration of Man's Felicity, as it falls under the Circumstances of Life, and shall Endeavour to demonstrate that it is in the Power of every Man, Acting after the Principles of Natural Reason, to advance his own Felicity; and here I must borrow from the Stoic; for though it be Impossible for a Man to arrive to that upper Region of Serenity, which lies above the Winds and Tempests of the Passions, nevertheless I believe it to be in the Power of a Man to defend himself from their Rage, to correct their violence, and to confine them within their proper Circles, which I take to be one great step towards that Felicity I am now Discoursing of. Then for the Alternate Vicissitudes or Returns of Appetite and Fruition, it is a thing no way attainable in this Life, for we desire Infinite things, which we never shall, nor are ever capable to Enjoy. The use to be made of such a Consideration then, is this, that if a Man's Enjoyments do not reach the Measures of his Mind; let him bring his Mind to the Measures of his Enjoyments, for whether the Hill come to Mahomet, or Mahomet go to the Hill, matters not much, so they do but meet together: and I dare be bold to say, that he who Frames his desires to the Circumstances of his Life, and to the Objects which lie before him, is really as happy as one that is in a warm Pursuit of all those things, which lie within the Immense Prospect of Man's Imagination. We have an Eminent Instance of this Truth in that famous Interview, betwixt Alexander and Diogenes, of whom the latter certainly better deserved the Name of Conqueror in the Dominion he gained over his own Desires and Appetite, and did enjoy more within the narrow Circumscription of his Tub, than the other could ever meet with in the vast Circles of the Universe. But leaving the of these and such little Considerations, to the close of this discourse, it shall be my present business to inquire, whether amongst that great Variety of things, which Men generally pursue, there be any which Answer the Real Ends proposed by them, and are such as can Denominate them truly happy. I do not speak of that Ultimate or Objective Happiness of the Schoolmen, which is said to replenish all the Capacities of the Mind (for this can never be attained to in this Life) I shall confine my Discourse only to that Inferior or Subordinate Happiness, which is the highest Perfection of this present Mortal State, and this requires these two Conditions. The first is, that it must lie within a Mans own Power, not only to acquire, but also to keep; for whatsoever good lies within the Command of another, is liable also to be taken from him, which must needs leave a fear upon the Mind, and such a fear can never consist with true Happiness: it must be therefore durable. The next Condition of Man's Happiness, is, that it be not depraved with Evil, it must be therefore sincere. Moreover I shall consider Happiness with Regard to these two Extremes. First, I shall compare it with such things as are commonly reputed good and desirable amongst Men. Next I shall compare it with such things as are commonly reputed Evil and Hateful amongst Men. The things after which men's Desires are usually carried, are reducible to these two Heads, viz. Sensual Enjoyments, and the Goods of Fortune, which are supposed always to be attended with profit. I shall first begin with Sensual Enjoyments: I shall not insist upon the great and many Disappointments we meet with in our Pursuit of them, nor of the many Tempests of our Passions, together with the Conflicts betwixt Hope and Fear, and the great fatigue, hazard and Expense they often undergo, who endeavour to purchase them: Neither shall I enlarge upon the Fruits and Consequences of these Delights, being for the most part such as end in Diseases, and in a consumption of Reputation and Fortune. I will therefore State Sensual Felicity, with all the advantages that Imagination can represent it under; I will suppose a Man to enjoy his fill, and to sit to be Arbitrator of Luxury and Delight: Let us suppose him to look backwards on what is past; and whilst he exults in the Remembrance of it, let us suppose him also to be entering upon fresh contents, and to be raising his Hopes and sharpening his Appetite for the perception of them; and thus whilst his Body fattens or rather Surfeits under present Fruition, let his thoughts run forwards in the quest of new and untasted Peasures, which let us suppose to flow in as easily upon his Soul as Wishes, and as the productions of thought upon the Mind. This certainly is the greatest Heaven which the Voluptuous Man can Fancy: yet then, Helas! how far short will these Pleasures fall of that Beauty, which Imagination Clothed them with? how soon are we tired with them? and when the Sense is satiated, then do we begin to Nauseate the Object, which when it is withdrawn, how drooping and dejected are the Spirits? how Flat and Damp are all the thoughts? not so much for its absence, as for the Frustration we meet with in the Enjoyment, till by the Prospect of some new Delights which fancy offers, we whet our Appetites, and then run into the former Labyrinths of desire and disappointment; so that if whatsoever sensual thing we actually enjoy, is only so far good, as it suits with Imagination, and if Imagination does show things greater in Expectation, than under Fruition, it follows most closely how great a Paradox soever it may seem, that they who are under the Wants and Expectation of their Sensual Endearments, feel the greatest Tickle of Pleasure. However it be, this is certain, that the Returns of want and Pain, are Indispensably Requisite to Enjoyment: and hence it is; that the Voluptuous Person, for Gusto's sake, does Eat what is Bitter, to give his Wine a Relish, and has Recourse to sour Sauces, that he may make his Meat more Palatable. From Sensual Pleasures, let us pass on to consider the Goods of Fortune, such as Riches, Office, Honour, and the like: These indeed are the things which the greatest usually make Court to, as such, from whence they promise themselves all Felicity. And first for Riches, if we look upon Man's Happiness to consist in an accumulation of Temporal Enjoyments, we must needs confess that they go a great way in the Purchase. Money is the common Measure of all things necessary, or Ornamental to the Life of Man. It Conveys to us the Riches of Foreign Countries, with all the Productions of Industry or Nature; It furnishes our Tables with Exquisite Wines and Meats; It raises stately Houses, with all the Ornaments belonging to them; It us with whatsoever is found curious in Nature, or made so by Art; It procures us Offices, and if it cannot purchase Honour, 'twill at least obtain us Titles, and Adorn us with the Liveries of Virtue; It wins us Friends, it subdues our Enemies, and makes a Conquest over Beauty. These with Infinite other Blessings, are the fruits of Riches, And yet if we consider them well, we shall find them to be like those Medals, which represent many times a Beautiful Face on the one side, and a Beast on the Reverse; let us therefore turn them on the other side, and see whether they have the same Figure and Beauty throughout. I will not speak of the Difficulty a Man meets with usually in getting Wealth, nor of the Dangers and Temptations to which his Conscience is sometimes Obnoxious. I will imagine his Coffers filled, and that his Reputation is Stamped with as fair Characters, and with as Noble an Image as his Coin; and yet such a one certainly, if he be of a Provident Disposition, cannot choose but be disquieted with thoughts, how to Dispose of his Treasure; if it lie by him in his Chests, it is no further Serviceable, than so much Earth, and lies ever in the way to Bait others to break in and Rob him, not only of his Gold, but Peradventure of his Life: if he leave it with the Banker, He has no other Security than the Word of another Man, who if he Fail either in Honesty or Sufficiency all is gone; and how many there be who are Defective this way, is but too Legible upon the Walks of all the Burses of Europe. If he purchase Lands, what Application must there be made to Scriveners? what Examinion is there of the Title? and when he thinks all safe, up starts a Judgement or some Concealed Mortgage, which hath been Sleeping for many Years: then comes in the whole Cry of Lawyers, and after all the Methods of a Vexatious and Expensive Suit, the Poor Client, if he be not Totally Defeated of his Purchase, will nevertheless find this aftergame to be the dearer Bargain: for when he has spent the best part of his Subsistance amongst his Advocates, he then will understand their meaning when they promised to make it out that he had a Clear and Naked Title; so that in the end he must be forced perhaps to clog the same Estate with a new Incumblance, that he may have wherewithal to satisfy his Creditors, for the Money which he borrowed to carry on the Cause, and so leave the same Cursed Bone for some after-Purchacers to gnaw upon, which certainly is the Case of many a Person. But admit a Man be yet so happy to be free from these Perplexities, and that he enjoy all the Blessings which Wealth can Compass without Care and Disquiet; if he be such a one as does Indulge himself in his Plenty, how easily is he betrayed to Sensuality, and to all that Train of Diseases, which follow Intemperance? Habits of Eating and Drinking plentifully, besides the injury they do to Intellectuals, and the Stupidity which goes along with them, are ever attended with Surfeits, Feeurs, and Dropsies. The Gout seldom fails to visit such as live in fullness and ease; nor the Pox, those who live in Wantonness and Promiscuous Pleasures: But then, if a Rich Man live to the Rules of Temperance and Sobriety, what Natural Benefit has he above another, who though of an Obscure and mean Condition, wants nothing necessary for his Sustenance, or Conducing to his Health? The Necessities of Nature, and the Enjoyments of Life lie within a Narrow Circle, so that whatsoever exceeds it, is not only Superfluous and Expensive, but affords matter for Distemper. Great Men, and especially Princes, the Wider is their Dominion, the more is their Liberty Circumscribed and Limited: State and Grandeur will not allow them to appear, but in few Places, nor this at all times. For the purpose, a Prince may delight in Beautiful Gardens, or the like; and yet there is scarce a private Subject, but may enjoy the Pleasures of them no less than He; Every Gentleman may Walk in them for his Recreation, and Entertain his Fancy in Viewing the several Beauties of Trees, Walks, Fruits, Flowers, Fountains, Grottoes, Statues, Shades, with infinite other Curiosities, with which such places are usually adorned, and all this at another Man's Expense, and when he has done, he may pass over if he please into the Countries of other Princes, and see the like or greater Rarities, together with the Structure of their Palaces, and the Order and Fashions of their Courts, so that this Pleasure and Delight, be it what it will be, 'tis certainly such wherein the Subject has much th'advantage of any particular Prince, who upon Considerations of Government, may not pass beyond the Limits of his own Kingdom, nor enjoy his private Recreations without Encumbrance and Restraint. And yet the Pleasures of the Eye have been ever Esteemed some of the greatest and the most Innocent Delights of Life. Let the Benefit of Riches be as great as Fancy can represent them, this is certain, That he, who does not enjoy Contentedness of Mind, will ever be Miserable, and perhaps more Miserable the more he does possess: For Appetite becomes more boiling the greater fuel it meets with, and even that which is Actually in a Man's Power, will ever be subject to Chances, and give him continual occasions of disquiet. They who spread wide their Sails, and Desplay all their Bravery upon the Deck, as they must expect to meet with Storms, so they may be as certain too, that so great an Embarras will serve for little but for the Winds and Tempests to fasten on, which may end perhaps in the Subversion of the Ship. When Showers of Arrows fall thick, 'tis the safest way for a Man to Contract himself into the narrowest compass that he can, and decline their force by Shrinking to the Earth. Greatness of Place or Honour, is another Branch of the Blessings of Fortune. It is a kind of Diminutive Sovereignty, for it Empowers Men to do Good and Punish: It raises the Admiration of the Vulgar, and Creates Dependences. It gives Men a Preeminence above others, and is Accompanied in all places with Marks of Pomp and Grandeur. These indeed are Colours Glorious as those of the Rainbow, nor is the Figure less Beautiful: Nevertheless if we make but a little near approach, we shall find the Orient Scene to be nothing but Apparition, or a thin Vapour which is attended generally with a Storm, and Vanishes in an Instant. That some Men should be advanced to Places of Trust, and Honour, is absolutely necessary for the Support of Government, but withal, were it not for the Ends which such Men do or aught to Propound to themselves of being Serviceable to the Public, and were there not an inward Joy and satisfaction of Mind upon the performance of Duty, as well as a Reputation and outward Respect justly due to good Actions, I know not what it is that could invite Men to come out of a private and secure Station, to be tossed about under a Hazardous and Restless Course of Life: For here it is that they area-bridged, not only in their Recreations, Freedom of Speech, Conversation and Private Studies, all which are things in which Man's Temporal Felicity is absolutely concerned, and are the sincere Fruits of liberty, but many times they have scarce Leisure for the Refreshment of Nature, and for the Recollection of their Spirits. They are in a manner thronged wherever they go, and tired with Impertinent Compliments, Tedious Ceremonies, and Formal Visits. Nay even in their Closets and places of Retreat, they are many times Haunted with Petitions, and Importuned with distasteful and unseasonable Addresses. Their Tables, where Men usually lay aside the Burden of thoughts to Indulge themselves a little in honest Mirth and Freedom, are made their Snares: Such Men are under Circumstances of Eating always in a public way; and amongst those who are invited, it seldom happens but there are some who come with an Intention to Devour something more than what is set before them. There is no Place where a Great Man is in so much Danger as at his Meat. In the midst of Wine, and Feasting Men are easily Tempted to cast off their Masques, and as they fill their Bellies, so they empty their Breasts, by opening their Passions, and by giving their Tongues a little liberty. Now what can be more uneasy than to have a perpetual Spy upon all the Words and Actions of a Man's Life, to be forced to Flatter others, and perhaps be Poisoned by Flatteries himself? To be one while defamed by Scandalous Libels, and at another time to be Murdered by secret Whispers and Informers? To be one while baited with loud Clamours and Obloquy, and to be by and by Arraigned by Popular Passions, for his ill Administration and Evil Counsels, because unprosperous? What can be more Tiresome than to be harassed always with Multiplicity of Business, and to be Tortured with Petitions, where there are many Competitors perhaps for the same thing, and where one only can be Gratifyed, which must need put a Man under a Necessity of Disgusting all the rest, and lay him open to their Defamation and Envy, and Envy seldom fails to procure Revenge? That which is but a small Imperfection in a private Person, is a great Deformity in a Statesman; and the Eminence on which he stands makes him more Conspicuous. All his Actions lie open to the Day, and every little Folly will set him at a lower Value, and will never want Aggravation. If Crystals have little Bubbles in them, it matters not much, but the least Cloud or Flaw in a Diamond does very much Debase its Price. How painful and almost impossible is it for such a Man to carry a Cheerful and Serene Countenance, whilst he feels the Vulture Gnawing at his Heart, whilst he Travels with Suspicions, and finds his Measures Crossed? When he is most Solitary and Retired from Business, then are his thoughts most Agitated: he than feels the Sting of his secret Enemies, and the Blows and Wounds of his open ones, and casts about every way to defeat their Contrivances. He is jealous of his Confidents & Servants, and is ever and anon changing Resolutions. He Groans within himself when he considers his Perplexed Condition, and is ready to Burst upon the Apprehension of his Ruin; but if he once begin to Totter, off drop his Followers and Favourites like Leaves from a Tree, which is Nipped by the Frost, and Blown upon by the Wind, and in their places comes in the Turba Remi, the Canaille or Rascality of the People, who according to their wont Generosity, ever Trample upon those whom Fortune hath Abandoned; a Brutish sort of Creatures which delight to Prey on Blood, and herd together like Vultures to feed upon a Mangled Carcase: And this, God knows, is the Fate of many a Great Man, or if they do not fall into this Extremity of Misfortune, at least they fall into Disgrace. Nor is it the least part of their Torment to see their Enemies rejoice at their down-fall, whilst they themselves have nothing but the Melancholy Remembrance of past Greatness to feed upon, and this will prove Infinitely more bitter, than if they had never tasted of Honour: For if there be a Pleasure and Satisfaction in Grandeur, the greater 'tis, the greater will be the Misfortune to be deprived of it; so that 'tis a Madness to Pursue athing where the Evil of Privation outweighs the Pleasure of Enjoyment; but if there be no such Pleasure in the Enjoyment, 'tis Equal Madness to follow that with so much Eagerness, which is so empty in itself, and is Compounded of so many Calamities and Disasters. And thus we see that greater Fortunes are really more uncapable of Happiness than the mean; by reason of their large Retinues, and that vast Extent of Appurtenances which Surround them, they are too much Exposed to Hazard: their Felicity is made up of a Million of Members, so that the Multitude is a Burden, and the Defect or Miscarriage of one only, is enough to Embitter other Enjoyments. Upon this Account we may observe that even Kings themselves, when they would taste the Sweets of Innocent Pleasure, do divest themselves of themselves, and that they lay aside all the Badges of Royalty, that they may be capable to descend to the Conversation of private Persons They esteem themselves most happy, when Incogniti they can refresh themselves with those common Recreations, which are the ordinary Divertisements of other Men; and yet can they not enjoy even this small Portion of Happiness without danger sometimes, nor rarely without Detriment to Majesty: for besides the Contempt which too much Familiarity does Naturally draw along with it, they by this means give occasion for others to Note their Extravagances, and to spy into their Dispositions, and to discover their Secrets. For as Men are most open in the heats of Sport, so is it observed that the greatest Traitors will ever mix themselves with those who do Accompany Princes in their Pleasures. In the next place let us consider such who effect Greatness upon the score purely of Ambition and Glory, and we shall find them to be much more Miserable than the former: For Ambition is a Fire which the more it finds to feed upon, the more it Rages, and when it has Reduced all things to Ruin, does itself Evaporate into a Smoke, and even its more durable Parts are Reduced to Ashes. Is it possible for any Man even in the most Prosperous Course of Fortune, to live without a Competitor, and if he overcome one, will there not succeed another, who will give him Fresh and Stronger Disquiet? Had Pompey died of the Sickness which Seized him at Naples, he might have had Sulla's Title superadded to his own, and have been Pompey the Happy, as well as Pompey the Great, but by attempting to gain the further Graces of Fortune, he lost both; and even his Rival had scarce five months' Respite from his Glorious Toils, for returning to Rome in October, he was Murdered the following Ideses of March. I doubt not but that many Princes amidst their serious thoughts have had Reflections of this Nature; and would follow their true Felicity by a Voluntary Retreat, did not Considerations of Public Duty make them prefer Labour before Repose, with Considerations also of their Honour, which might in after-Ages be Stigmatised with Characters of Laziness and Stupidity. Nevertheless some of the greatest and of the most Fortunate Princes of the World, as Dioclesian, and Charles the Fifth, have preferred Retirement before Dominion: their Victorious Hands were employed in Planting Flowers, which aforetime gathered Laurels, and 'twas with them a matter of Choice not of Necessity, to leave their Triumphant Legions, that they might Erect an Empire over the Vegetable Sect. From what has been said it appears abundantly; that neither Sensual Enjoyments, nor the Goods of Fortune do any ways Answer the Conditions of Happiness. Since therefore 'tis not to be found in any of these things which lie without us, but in the inward Gifts and Capacities of the Soul, I Determine its Nature principally to consist in a constant serenity of thought, looking upon outward Comforts only as necessary Goods. Now how far it is in a Mans own Power to acquire this Serenity, will best appear by looking towards the other Extreme before mentioned, viz. the supposed Evils which accompany this Mortal Life. I shall begin first with the Evils of Pain, which whether they proceed from outward Violence, or from Natural Distempers, certain 'tis that they Create Anguish, yet are they not such as leave us without Examples to support them, or deprive Reason of the means to overcome them. I shall not speak of the Courage of Martyrs under Tortures (where the Prospect of a future Reward may be allowed sufficient to give them some Extraordinary Assistance) since amongst the Heathens we have abundant Precedents for Imitation. The goodness of Providence does so order Matters, that the sharpest Dolours are for the most part of shortest Continuance, but where they are of any Duration, we find even the Continuance of them to be a Remedy. 'Tis the first shower that wets, and 'tis the first Incision of the Lancet which smarts, those which follow do rather Stupify than affect the Sense with sharpness. The Miseries of a Galleyslave are great, and yet we see that when he finds himself under a Necessity of endurance, he ceases to complain, and Rallies up his Spirits to suffer that with a Cheerful Patience, which he cannot repel with any Armed Force. And when he is sometime Inur'd to that Slavish Condition, Custom by little and little, makes it Supportable and Natural. But whatsoever there be in this or any Dolours of Life, the more Acute they are, the sweeter are the thoughts of Death, whereas to one who makes Pleasure his End, the greater it is, the more painful are the thoughts of quitting Life; so that as the latter is in a Condition of making his passage into Misery, the other is always in a Passage to a better State. From the Evils of Pain, let us go on to consider the Evils of Privation, such as loss of Liberty, of Riches, of Friends and Relations, of Reputation with the like. Loss of Liberty must be Confessed to be a great Calamity, not only in its self, as it causes the Name of Restraint and Confinement, but in respect also of all other Comforts: for it not only deprives Men ordinarily of the Benefit of Friends, but does expose them to great Wants and Necessities, and what is worst of all it becomes many times Destructive to Health. Exile seems something more uncomfortable than Imprisonment: for besides that Divorce which it makes betwixt the dearest Relations, Men Naturally have an affection for their Native Country, especially when they are out of it, which Affection will be ever apt to beget Sorrow. But for all this, let us but Examine matters a little by detayl, and see whether Reason does not furnish us with sufficient Remidies. Loss of Liberty like all other Evils which befall us, is greatest in the beginning: Birds, when they are at first put into the Cage, do Flutter and Struggle, and refuse to feed, but after a little Time, they return to their former Natures and Sing. Then for the Exigence of Nature it is easily supplied, the Body requires no more but to be preserved from Cold, and a little is sufficient to satisfy Hunger, and to Extinguish Thirst, whatsoever exceeds these Measures tends to Surfeit, and makes Provision for Diseases. Seneca observes well of those who Indulge their Palates, that it is not so much the Taste and Relish of the Meat, as the Rarity and Price which makes it Delicate. Now there is not the Place scarce upon the Face of the Earth, which does not afford Sustenance for Life. To want that Variety of Delightful Objects, with which Men daily are Refreshed is no great Misery, for 'tis in a Mans own Power to bring their Images into his thoughts, which is altogether as Recreative as the External Objects themselves; and if Confinement be so great a Misery, then are they as unhappy altogether, who by Office or any other Circumstances of Life, are obliged to perpetual Residence, and so in a manner Circumscribed within one constant place. Then for Separation from ones Country, 'tis not so great a Misfortune as it at first appears, for to whatsoever place a Man is Banished, though seemingly never so Unhospitable and Desolate, he may observe great numbers of Persons resorting thither daily of their own Accords; so that what is made the Subject of men's choice, cannot be so Incommodious and Intolerable. Nay, let a Man go into what City soever he please, he shall find great numbers of Strangers, who live Contentedly and happy; which yet they could not do, were absence from ones Native Country so great a Misery. Privation of Friends and Acquaintance has been ever looked upon as a great Misfortune, and such as leaves too great a damp upon the Spirits. But there is a Remedy against this too, for though some Men have been denied the Conversation of the Living; yet there was never any man deprived of the Society of the Dead; of those I mean whose Works and Monuments are Replenished with all Variety of Learning for the Entertainment of his Thoughts. Here I am instructed how to behave myself under all the Calamities of Fortune; here my Soul is filled with bright Idea 's, and with Notions of true Morality; and above all, here I meet with Examples of the bravest Men, who have endured the same, or greater Miseries with Invincible Courage, and by so doing have Consecrated their Memories to after-Ages. Amongst the Greek and Roman worthies, we shall meet with few but were disgraced by Fortune, and ended their Mortality in Exile. Instead of Repining at fate, they employed their Thoughts and Pens in Writing excellent Books of Morality, and by this means made themselves most Public, when they were under the greatest Restraint; and when they were in the nearest approaches to Death, than did they advance most towards Life and Immortality; and such were Seneca and Boethius of old, with infinite others of later date. That Condition therefore cannot be miserable, which is so familiar to the bravest Souls, and which gives life to such excellent Productions. 'Tis too usual for men to compare themselves with others who are above them, & in respect of these they many times seem unhappy: but let them come and measure themselves by the Majority of Mankind, and such as really are more Afflicted with outward Discomforts, and then they will find themselves to be truly happy; For things are good and Evil only by Compa●●son; so that what is Evil in respect of something that is better, may be styled good also in respect of something that is worse than itself; and he that is happy in one Capacity, may be Miserable in another, & so the contrary. From whence we may take notice of the Infinite Wisdom and Providence of Almighty God, who does so mix Good & Evil through all Conditions of Men, and carries them on in such a manner through all the Stations and Circumstances of Life, as seems to reduce all Men to a certain State of Equity, such as makes up an universal & perfect Harmony. The Great Man enjoys Titles and Honour, the Poor Man Health: The Great Man lives in rest and Repose of Body, the Poor Man has the better rest and Repose of Mind; he is never vexed with Affronts, nor Cracks his Brains to contrive Revenge. He fears not to be degraded from his Place, nor is he Solicitous to make an Interest at Court, neither does he live in Jealousy of those who are about him. He Rises early to his Work, and merrily passes away the Day, and at Night meets with a full reward of his Labour, in the sweet Refreshments of Sleep. If Humility depress the one, so is Nobility a Burden to the other; large Retinues and Numerous Dependences are but Clogs, and are a real weight to him on whom they lie; if one feels Hunger, the other feels Surfeit; if one may be despised, the other may be Affronted: so that upon a Serious and Impartial Survey, the Misfortunes which attend the great, are really more unsupportable than those to which meaner Persons are usually exposed; and what is yet a further Aggravation, they are also more public and lasting. Now whether the Chain be of Gold or of Iron, or whether it be fastened upon the right Arm or upon the left, makes little difference, since in both Cases there is the same restraint and Weight. Contumely is generally looked upon as an injury, and such as is apt to Create disturbance and disorder in our Passions; and yet we may observe that the greatest part of those who pretend to receive injury this way, are really disquieted at their own Shadows and Fantastic Chimeras. This Man being invited to a Feast, thinks he is disparaged because he is placed beneath one which he esteems of meaner quality than himself. That Lady is Mortally injured because her Visit is not returned. The Squire is ready to quarrel because he has not his title given him in the Superscription of a Letter, or because his talk is little regarded. These with Infinite such little Humours we find in all the Rencounters of life, such indeed as are the effects only of Idleness, & are incident to those who being of a delicate and Effeminate nature, growing wanton from the want of a real injury, form to themselves Imaginary Evils, that they may have wherewithal to feed their peevish temper. But the greatest part of Mankind make themselves Miserable, not so much upon the sense of whatthey have lost, as of what they do not enjoy: And here their Infelicity is as great & Boundless as their Appetite; they desire things which are impossible to be obtained, and so 'tis impossible but they must be Miserable. Others suffer their Passions to fasten on future Enjoyments, which perhaps are Innocent in themselves: but peradventure also such as may never be obtained; or if obtained probably such as may make them more miserable than Happy. This man desires Honour and Preferment, which should he Arrive to, 'tis as probable he may prove a Traitor as a Protector of his Country. Another man thinks he may be happy in a Wife and Children, and yet 'tis probable his Wife may prove a Curse, and his Children if Legitimate, besides the constant thoughts and care for their Education and maintenance, may prove a Scandal rather than an Ornament to his House. The Advice therefore of the Heathen Satirist, may pass for sound Divinity, when he Counsels us not to be too Solicitous after the Endearments of this Life, but to leave the Issue of things to the Providence and Wisdom of the Gods; because Carior est ipsis homo quam sibi. Children we see are pleased with Apples and Nuts, and if they have not their fill of them even to Surfeit, they grow Stubborn and Cry, when they are a little further advanced in years, they leave such Childish Toys, and follow Plays and Sports; and yet even these too are forsaken and despised by them, as they Arrive to further Judgement and Maturity. Now if a man as he Grows older and older, does condemn his past Extravagance, and finds thosethings wherein he once placed his chiefest Pleasure to be Foolish and Contemptible, why may he not be taught the same Sentence upon his present Delights, when he shall recollect his thoughts and consider; that as God is infinitely better and more Wise than Man, so 'tis evident that he does Govern all Things in a course of Providence Transcendently more perfect than all the Contrivances of the most Exquisite and Consummate reason? so that what seems good & desirable by us may bejudged by him to be really detrimental, and what seems Evil and Hurtful to us may be known to be really good and Beneficial in the Wisdom of that unerring and Universal Governor of all humane Actions. Nay if Man in his Calmer Thoughts does many times Condemn as hurtful, what at another time he did pursue with all Imaginable Passion, he must needs grant that his own present Appetite is no firm Standard of his real Felicity; and although the Child may be Sullen and angry with his Parent for denying him his Fancy, yet in the end he will find how much he is obliged to his Paternal Goodness in withholding it, as also for Kerbing his lose desires with a due Correction. Men, to sweeten the Cares of their ordinary Course of Life, and so to render the places of their constant Habitation more comfortable, have recourse usually to some Pastimes, or labour to refresh themselves, by seeing fine places, or by visiting Houses of Hospitality and good cheer and whereas on the contrary they would Recreate themselves more sincerely, would they have recourse to Severities, and take up sometimes with places of worse Accommodation than that of their own Habitation: for by this means home and a Man's ordinary way of Life, would appear much more delightful after his return to it, and 'tis at home where every Man must spend his Days: so that according to the former Method, he who intermits his Domestic concerns for something abroad, which seems more pleasant, instead of recreating his Mind will find himself more dissatisfyed at his return than before: for Men are never more out of Conceit with their own Condition, than when they come from others, who live in greater Plenty and Splendour than themselves. Prosperity and Adversity are like the two Arms of the Balance on which the Life of Man does turn; Reason is the Hand which ought to hold it; let us therefore consider the great and sudden Vicissitudes to which all things are subject, and that as Prosperity is not without Fears and Troubles, so Adversity is not without Hopes and Comforts. When Fortune therefore is most Caressing, believe her not. This Coquet Smiles most when She intends to Delude: Embrace her therefore with Distrust, and thou shalt not be troubled when she Changes Countenance, and proves Coy. Whosoever duly considers the uncertainties which attend Prosperity, will neither be lifted up under its Favours, nor be dejected under its Frowns: he so considers his good Fortune, as one who Hourly expects the contrary, and so submits to his Evil Fortune, as one who is in constant Hopes of changing for the better. Let him make the best use therefore of what lies before him, and leave future Contingences to the higher Powers: by this means his Mind will be kept in a constant evenness: he will suffer no Violent Surprises either of Joy or Sorrow, but instead thereof he will feel one equal, Solid and durable Pleasure, and such as will leave the Mind in perpetual peace and Tranquillity. Thus far Reason will help him forwards towards his own Felicity, but if he be a Christian to whom these Considerations shall Occur, he may receive further Assistance, by Remembering, that as there is a God who presides over all the Revolutions of the World, and even in this Life makes what is seemingly hurtful to be really Beneficial; so there is a future State too, where all the Actions of a past Life shall be exposed in the open Sight, and where an unfortunate and Prostrate Innocence shall have a full Reward. FINIS.