L. ANNAEUS SENECA    

SENECA'S MORALS ABSTRACTED: IN THREE PARTS. 

I. Of Benefits:  
II. Of a Happy Life, Anger, and Clemency.  
III. A Miscellany of Epistles.   By ROGER L'ESTRANGE.  
LONDON: Printed by T. N. for Henry Brome, at the Gun in St Paul's Churchyard. MDCLXXIX.   

SENECA'S MORALS By way of ABSTRACT. Of Benefits. PART I. By R. L'ESTRANGE.  
LONDON, Printed by Tho. Newcomb for Henry Broome, at the Gun in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1678   

THE Contents.  
Chap. I. 
OF Benefits in General Page 1.  Chap. II. 
Several sorts of Benefits p. 5.  Chap. III. 
A Son may oblige his Father, and a Servant his Master p. 9  Chap. IU. 
It is the Intention, not the Matter, that makes the Benefit p. 18.  Chap. V. 
There must be judgement in a Benefit, as well as Matter, and Intention, and especially in the Choice of the Person. p. 24.  Chap. VI 
The Matter of Obligations, with its Circumstances. p. 29.  Chap. VII. 
The Manner of Obliging p. 37.  Chap. VIII. 
The Difference, and Value of Benefits p. 46.  Chap. IX. 
An honest Man cannot be outdone in Courtesy p. 57  Chap. X. 
The Question discussed, whether or no a Man may Give, or Return a Benefit to himself p. 64  Chap. XI. 
How far one Man may be Obliged for a Benefit done to another p. 69.  Chap. XII. 
The Benefactor must have no By-ends p. 75.  Chap. XIII. 
There are many Cases wherein a Man may be Minded of a Benefit, but it is very rarely to be Challenged, and never to be Upbraided. p. 90.  Chap. XIV. 
How far to Oblige, or Requite a Wicked Man. p. 103.  Chap. XV. 
A General view of the Parts, and Duties of the Benefactor. p. 116  Chap. XVI. 
How the Receiver ought to behave himself p. 125.  Chap. XVII. 
Of Gratitude p. 138.  Chap. XVIII. 
Gratitude Mistaken p. 147.  Chap. XIX. 
Of Ingratitude p. 154.  Chap. XX. 
There can be no Law against Ingratitude p. 164.    

TO THE READER.  
IT has been a long time in my Thought to turn Seneca into English: But, whether as a Translation, or an Abstract, was the Question. A Translation I perceive it must not be, at last, for several Reasons. First, It is a thing already done to my hand, and of above Sixty years standing; though with as little Credit perhaps to the Author, as Satisfaction to the Reader. Secondly, There are a thousand things in him, that are wholly foreign to my Business: As his Philosophical Treatises of Meteors, Earthquakes, the Original of Rivers; several frivolous Disputes betwixt the Epicureans, and the Stoics, etc. to say nothing of his frequent Repetitions of the same thing again in other words, (wherein he very handsomely excuses himself, by saying, That he does but Inculcate over, and over the same Counsels, to those that over and over commit the same Faults.) Thirdly; His Excellency Consists rather in a Rhapsody of Divine, and Extraordinary Hints, and Notions, than in any Regulated Method of Discourse; so that to take him as he lies, and to go thorough with him, were utterly inconsistent with the Order, and Brevity which I propound; my Principal design being only to digest, and Common-Place his Morals, in such sort, that any Man, upon occasion, may know where to find them. And, I have kept myself so close to this Proposition, that I have reduced all his scattered Ethiques to their proper Heads, without any Additions of my own, more than of absolute Necessity for the Tacking of them together. Some other Man, in my Place, would, perchance, make you twenty Apologies, for his want of Skill, and Address, in governing this Affair, but these are Formal, and Pedantic Fooleries: As if any Man that first takes himself for a Coxcomb in his own Heart, would afterwards make himself one in Print too. This Abstract, such as it is, you are extremely welcome to; and I am sorry it is no better, both for your sakes and my own: for, if it were written up to the Spirit of the Original, it would be one of the most valuable Presents that ever any private Man bestowed upon the Public: And this too, even in the Judgement of both Parties, as well Christian as Heathen: of which in its due place.  
Next to my Choice of the Author, and of the Subject, together with the Manner of handling it, I have likewise had some regard in this Publication, to the Timing of it, and to the Preference of this Topique of Benefits above all others, for the Groundwork of my first Essay. We are fallen into an Age of vain Philosophy; (as the Holy Apostle calls it) and so desperately overrun with Drolls and Sceptics, that there is hardly any thing so Certain, or so Sacred, that is not exposed to Question, or Contempt. Insomuch, that betwixt the Hypocrite, and the Atheist, the very Foundations of Religion, and good Manners are shaken, and the Two Tables of the Decalogue dashed to pieces, the one against the other: The Laws of Government are Subjected to the Fancies of the Vulgar; Public Authority to the Private Passions and Opinions of the People; and the Supernatural Motions of Grace confounded with the Common Dictates of Nature. In this State of Corruption, who so fit as a good honest Christian-Pagan, for a Moderator betwixt Pagan-Christians?  
To pass now from the General Scope of the Whole work, to the particular Argument of this following Discourse; I have pitched upon the Theme of Benefits, Gratitude and Ingratitude, to begin withal, as an Earnest of the Rest, and a Lecture expressly Calculated for the Unthankfulness of these Times: the foulest undoubtedly, and the most execrable of all others, since the very Apostasy of the Angels: Nay, if I durst but suppose a Possibility of Mercy for those Damned Spirits, and that they might ever be taken into Favour again, my Charity would hope even better from them, than we have found from some of our Revolters, and that they would so behave themselves, as not to incur a Second Forfeiture. And, to carry the Resemblance yet one point further, they do Both of them agree in an Implacable Malice against those of their Fellows that keep their Stations. But Alas! What could Ingratitude do, without Hypocrisy? the Inseparable Companion of it; and, in Effect, the Bolder, and the Blacker Devil of the Two? For Lucifer himself never had the Face to lift up his Eyes to Heaven, and talk to the Almighty at the Familiar Rate of our Pretended Patriots, and Zelots: and at the same time, to make him Party to a Cheat. 'Tis not for nothing, that the Holy Ghost has denounced so many Woes, and redoubled so many Cautions against Hypocrites; plainly intimating, at once, how dangerous a Snare they are to Mankind, and no less Odious to God himself: which is sufficiently denoted in the force of that dreadful expression, And your Portion shall be with Hypocrites. You will find in the Holy Scriptures (as I have formerly observed) that God has given the Grace of Repentance to Persecuters, Idolaters, Murderers, Adulterers, etc. but I am mistaken, if the whole Bible affords you any one Instance of a Converted Hypocrite.  
To descend now from Truth itself, to our own Experience: Have we not seen, even in our days, a most Pious (and almost a Faultless) Prince, brought to the Scaffold by his own Subjects? The most Glorious Constitution upon the Face of the Earth, both Ecclesiastical and Civil, torn to Pieces, and dissolved? The Happiest People under the Sun Enslaved; Our Temples Sacrilegiously profaned; and a Licence given to all sorts of Heresy, and Outrage? And by whom, but by a Race of Hypocrites, who had nothing in their Mouths all this while, but The Purity of the Gospel; The Honour of the King; and, The Liberty of the People: assisted underhand with Defamatory Papers, which were levelled at the King Himself, through the sides of His most faithful Ministers? This PROJECT succeeded so well against One Government, that it is now again set a foot against Another; and by some of the very Actors too in that TRAGEDY, and after a most Gracious Pardon also, when Providence had laid their Necks, and their Fortunes at His Majesty's Feet. It is a wonderful thing, that Libels, and Libelers, the most infamous of Practices, and of Men; the most Unmanly, Sneaking Methods, and Instruments of Mischief: the very Bane of Humane Society, and the Plague of all Governments: It is a wonderful thing (I say) that these Engines, and Engineers, should ever find Credit enough in the World to engage a Party: But it would still be more wonderful, if the same Trick, should pass twice upon the same People, in the same Age, and from the very same IMPOSTORS. This Contemplation has carried me a little out of my way, but it has at length brought me to my Text again; for there is in the bottom of it, the highest Opposition imaginable, of Ingratitude, and Obligation.  
By this Taste, the Reader will in some Measure be able to judge what he is further to expect: that is to say, as to the Cast of my design, and the simplicity of the Style, and Dress; for that will be still the same; only accompanied with variety of Matter. Within a Term, or two, I do propound (God willing) to follow This, with another Manual; and so to go on till I have finished the whole. Whether it pleases the World or not, the Care is taken: And yet I could wish that it might be as delightful to others upon the Perusal, as it has been to me in the Speculation. Next to the Gospel itself ●… do look upon it as the most Sovereign Remedy against the Miseries of Humane Nature; and I have ever found it so in all the Injuries and Distresses, of an Unfortunate Life. You may read more of him if you please in the Appendix, which I have here Subjoined to this Preface, concerning the Authority of his Writings, and the Circumstances of his Life; as I have extracted them out of Lipsius.   

OF SENECA'S WRITINGS.  
IT appears that our Author had, among the Ancients, three Professed Enemies. In the first place Caligula; who called his Writings, Sand without Lime; alluding to the starts of his Fancy, and the Incoherence of his Sentences. But Seneca was never the worse for the Censure of a Person that propounded even the suppressing of Homer himself; and of casting Virgil and Livy out of all Public Libraries. The next, was Fabius; who Taxes him for being too bold with the Eloquence of former times, and failing in that point himself; and likewise for being too Quaint and Finical in his Expressions: which Tacitus imputes, in part, to the freedom of his own particular Inclination, and partly to the Humour of the Times. He is also charged by Fabius as no profound Philosopher; but with all this, he allows him to be a Man very Studious, and Learned; of great Wit, and Invention; and well read in all sorts of Litterature; a severe Reprover of Vice; most Divinely Sententious; and well worth the Reading; if it were only for his Morals; Adding, that if his Judgement had been answerable to his Wit, it had been much the more for his Reputation: but he Wrote whatever came next: so that I would advise the Reader (says he) to distinguish, where He Himself did not: for there are many things in him, not only to be approved, but admired, and it was great Pity, that he that could do what he would, should not always make the best Choice. His Third Adversary is Agellius, who falls upon him for his Style, and a kind of Tinkling in his Sentences; but yet commends him for his Piety, and good Counsels. On the other side, Columella calls him A Man of excellent Wit and Learning; Pliny; The Prince of Erudition; Tacitus gives him the Character of a Wise Man, and a fit Tutor for a Prince. Dio reports him to have been the greatest Man of his Age.  
Of those Pieces of his that are Extant, we shall not need to give any Particular Account: and of those that are lost, we cannot, any further than by Lights to them from other Authors; as we find them cited much to his honour; and we may reasonably compute them to be the greater part of his Works. That he wrote several Poems in his Banishment, may be gathered, partly from himself; but more expressly out of Tacitus, who says, That he was reproached with his applying himself to Protry, after he saw that Nero took pleasure in it, out of a design to Curry-Favour. St. Jerome refers to a Discourse of his concerning Matrimony. Lactantius takes notice of his History, and his Books of Moralities: St. Augustin quotes some Passages of his out of a Book of Superstition: Some References we meet with, to his Books of Exhortations. Fabius makes mention of his Dialogues: And he himself speaks of a Treatise of his own, concerning Earthquakes, which he wrote in his Youth. But the Opinion of an Epistolary Correspondence that he had with St. Paul, does not seem to have much Colour for't.  
Some few Fragments however of those Books of his that are wanting, are yet preserved in the Writings of other Eminent Authors; sufficient to show the World, how great a Treasure they have lost, by the Excellency of that little that's left.  
Seneca, says Lactantius, That was the sharpest of all the Stoics, How 
Divin. Instit. Lib. 1. Cap. 4.  great a Veneration has he for the Almighty? As for Instance; discoursing of a Violent Death: Do you not understand, says he, the Majesty, and the Authority of your Judge? He is the Supreme Governor of Heaven and Earth, and the God of all our Gods; and it is upon him that all those Powers depend which we Worship for Deities. Moreover in his Exhortations. This God, says he, when he laid the Foundations of the Universe, and entered upon the greatest, and the best Work in Nature, in ordering of the Government of the World; though he was himself all in all, yet he substituted other Subordinate Ministers, as the Servants of his Commands. And, How many other things does this Heathen speak of God, like one of Us?  
Which the Acute Seneca (says Lactantius again) saw in his Exhortations. 
Cap. 7.  We, says he, have our Dependence elsewhere, and should look up to that Power unto which we are indebted for all we we can pretend to that is good.  
And again, Seneca says very well in his Morals; they Worship the 
Lib. 2. Cap. 2.  Images of the Gods, says he, Kneel to them, and Adore them; they are hardly ever from them, either plying them with Offerings, or Sacrifices; and yet after all this Reverence to the Image, they have no regard at all for the Workman that made it.  
Lactantius again. An Invective, (says Seneca 
Lib. 3. Cap. 15.  in his Exhortations) is the Masterpiece of most of our Philosophers: and if they fall upon the Subject of Avarice, Lust, Ambition, they lash out into such Excess of Bitterness, as if Railing were a Mark of their Profession. They make me think of Galley-pots in an Apothecary's Shop, that have Remedies without, and Poison within.  
Lactantius still. He that would know all things 
Lib. 5. Cap. 9  let him Read Seneca; the most lively Describer of Public Vices, and Manners, and the smartest Reprehender of them.  
And again: As Seneca has it in his Books of Moral 
Lib. 6. Cap. 17.  Philosophy; He is the Brave Man, whose Splendour, and Authority, is the least part of his Greatness: that can look Death in the Face, without Trouble, or Surprise; who, if his Body were to be broken upon the Wheel, or Melted Led to be poured down his Throat, would be less concerned for the Pain itself, than for the dignity of bearing it.  
Let no Man, says Lactantius, think himself the safer in his wickedness 
Lib. 6. Cap. 14.  for want of a Witness; for God is Omniscient; and to him nothing can be a secret. It is an admirable Sentence that Seneca concludes his Exhortations withal. GOD, says he, is a Great, (I know not what) an Incomprehensible Power: It is to him, that we Live; and to him, that we must approve ourselves. What does it avail us, that our Consciences are hidden from Men, when our Souls lie open to God? What could a Christian have spoken more to the purpose in this Case, than this Divine Pagan. And in the Beginning of the same WORK says Seneca, What is it that we do? To what end is it to stand contriving, and to hide ourselves? We are under a Guard, and there's no escaping from our Keeper. One Man may be parted from another, by Travel, Death, Sickness: But there's no dividing us from ourselves. 'Tis to no purpose to creep into a Corner, where no body shall see us. Ridiculous Madness! Make it the Case that no Mortal Eye could find us out? He that has a Conscience gives Evidence against himself.  
It is truly, and excellently spoken of Seneca, says 
Lib. 6. Cap. 25.  Lactantius, once again, Consider, says he, the Majesty, the Goodness, and the Venerable Mercies of the Almighty: A Friend that is always at hand. What delight can it be to him, the slaughter of Innocent Creatures, or the Worship of Bloody Sacrifices? Let us purge our Minds, and lead Virtuous and Honest Lives: His Pleasure lies not in the Magnificence of Temples, made with Stone, but in the Piety and Devotion of Consecrated Hearts.  
In the Book that Seneca wrote against Superstitions, 
De Civ▪ Del. Lib. 6. Cap. 10.  treating of Images, says St. Austin, he Writes thus, They represent the Holy, the Immortal, and the Inviolable Gods, in the basest Matter; and without Life or Motion: In the Forms of Men, Beasts, Fishes▪ some, of mixed Bodies; and those Figures they call Deities, which, if they were but animated, would affright a Man, and pass for Monsters. And then a little farther, treating of Natural Theology; after citing the Opinions of Philosophers, he supposes an Objection against himself▪ Some body will perhaps ask me: Would you have me then to believe the Heavens, and the Earth, to be Gods; and some of them above the Moon, and some below it? Shall I ever be brought to the Opinion of Plato, or of Strato the Peripatetic: the one of which would have God to be without a Body, and the other without a Mind? To which he replies; And, Do you give more Credit than to the Dreams of T. Tatius, Romulus, and Hostilius, who caused, among other Deities, even Fear, and Paleness, to be worshipped? The vilest of Humane Affections; The one being the Motion of an affrighted Mind, and the other, not so much the Disease, as the Colour of a disordered Body. Are these the Deities that you will rather put your Faith in, and place in the Heavens? And speaking afterward of their Abominable Customs. With what Liberty does he Write? One, says he, out of Zeal, makes himself an Eunuch; another Lances his Arms: If this be the way to Please their Gods, What should a Man do if he had a Mind to Anger them? Or, if this be the way to please them, they do certainly deserve not to be Worshipped at all. What a Frenzy is this, to imagine, that the Gods can be delighted with such Cruelties, as even the worst of Men would make a Conscience to inflict? The most Barbarous and Notorious of Tyrants; some of them have perhaps done it Themselves, or Ordered the tearing of men to pieces by Others; but they never went so far, as to command any man to Torment himself. We have heard of those that have suffered Castration, to gratify the Lust of their Imperious Masters: but never any Man that was forced to Act it upon himself. They Murder themselves in their very Temples, and their Prayers are offered up in Blood. Whosoever shall but observe what they do, and what they suffer, will find it so mis-becoming an honest Man, so unworthy of a Freeman, and so inconsistent with the Action of a Man in his Wits, that he must conclude them all to be Mad; if it were not that there are so many of them; for only their Number is their Justification, and their Protection.  
When he comes to reflect, says St. Augustin, upon those Passages, which he himself had seen in the Capitol. He censures them with Liberty, and Resolution: and no Man would believe that such things would be done, unless in Mockery, or Frenzy. What Lamentation is there in the Egyptian Sacrifices for the loss of Osiris? And then what joy for the finding of him again? which he makes himself sport with, for in truth it is all a Fiction: and yet those People that neither lost any thing, nor found any thing, must express their Sorrows, and their rejoicings, to the highest degree: But there is only a Certain time, says he, for this Freak, and once in a Year people may be allowed to be Mad. I came into the Capitol, says Seneca, where the several Deities had their several Servants, and Attendants, their Lictors, their Dressers, and all in Posture, and Action, as if they were executing their Offices: Some to hold the Glass, others to Comb out Juno's and Minerva's hair; one to tell jupiter what a Clock it is; Some Lasses there are, that sit Gazing upon the Image, and Fancy jupiter has a kindness for them. All these things, says Seneca, a while after, a Wise Man will observe for the Law's sake, more than for the Gods; and all this Rabble of Deities, which the Superstition of many Ages has gathered together, we are in such manner to adore, as to consider the Worship to be rather Matter of Custom, than of Conscience. Whereupon St. Augustine observes, That this Illustrious Senator, Worshipped what he Reproved; Acted what he Disliked; and Adored what he Condemned.   

SENECA'S LIFE and DEATH.  
IT has been an Ancient Custom, to Record the Actions, and the Writings of Eminent Men, with all their Circumstances; and it is but a Right that we owe to the Memory of our Famous Author. Seneca was, by Birth, a Spaniard of Cordova (a Roman Colony of great Fame and Antiquity) He was of the Family of Annaeus; of the Order of Knights; and the Father, Lucius Annaeus Seneca, was distinguished from the Son, by the Name of the Orator. His Mother's Name was Helvia; a Woman of Excellent Qualities. His Father came to Rome in the time of Augustus; and his Wife and Children soon followed him, our Seneca yet being in his Infancy. There were three Brothers of them, and never a Sister. Marcus Annaeus Novatus, Lucius Annaeus Seneca, and Lucius Annaeus Mela. The first of these changed his Name for junius Gallio, who adopted him; to him it was, that he Dedicated his Treatise of Anger, whom he calls Novatus too; and he also Dedicated his Discourse of a Happy Life to his Brother Gallio. The youngest Brother (Annaeus Mela) was Lucan's Father. Seneca was about Twenty years of Age in the Fifth year of Tiberius, when the jews were expelled Rome. His Father trained him up to Rhetoric, but his Genius led him rather to Philosophy; and he applied his Wit to Morality, and Virtue. He was a great Hearer of the Celebrated Men of those times; as Attalus, Sotion, Papirius Fabianus, (of whom he makes often mention) and he was much an Admirer also of Demetrius the Cynique, whose conversation he had afterwards in the Court, and both at home also, and abroad, for they often Travelled together. His Father was not at all pleased with his humour of Philosophy, but forced him upon the Law, and for a while he Practised Pleading. After which, he would needs put him upon Public Employment: and he came first to be Quaestor, and then Praetor; and some will have it that he was chosen Consul; but this is doubtful.  
Seneca finding that he had ill Offices done him at Court, and that Nero's Favour began to cool; he went directly and resolutely to Nero, with an Offer to refund all that he had gotten. Which Nero would not receive; but, however, from that time, he changed his Course of Life; received few Visits; shunned Company; went little abroad; still pretending to be kept at home, either by Indisposition, or by his Study. Being Nero's Tutor, and Governor, all things went well, so long as Nero followed his Counsel. His two Chief Favourites, were Burrhus and Seneca, who were both of them Excellent in their ways. Burrhus in his care of Military Affairs, and severity of Discipline; Seneca for his Precepts, and Good Advice in the matter of Eloquence, and the Gentleness of an Honest Mind: assisting one another in that slippery Age of the Prince (says Tacitus) to invite him, by the Allowance of Lawful Pleasures, to the Love of Virtue. Seneca had two Wives; the Name of the first is not mentioned; his second was Paulina, whom he often speaks of with great Passion. By the former he had his Son Marcus.  
In the first year of Claudius he was Banished into Corsica, when julia the Daughter of Germanicus was accused by Messalina of Adultery, and Banished too: Seneca being charged as one of the Adulterers. After a matter of Eight years, or upwards, in Exile, he was called back, and as much in favour again as ever. His Estate was partly Patrimonial, but the greatest part of it was the Bounty of his Prince. His Gardens, Villas, Lands, Possessions, and Incredible Sums of Money are agreed upon at all hands; which drew an Envy upon him. Dio reports him to have had 250000 l. Sterling at Interest in Britain alone, which he called in, all at a Sum. The Court itself could not bring him to Flattery; and, for his Piety, Submission, and Virtue, the Practice of his whole Life witnesses for him. So soon, says he, as the Candle is 
De Irâ, Lib 3.  taken away; my Wife, that knows my Custom, lies still, without a word speaking: and then do I Recollect all that I have said, or done that day, and take myself to shrift. And why should I conceal, or reserve any thing, or make any Scruple of enquiring into my Errors, when I can say to myself, Do so no more, and, for this once, I'll forgive thee? And again, What can be more Pious, and Selfdenying, than this Passage, in one 
Ep. 96.  of his Epistles? Believe me now, when I tell you the very bottom of my Soul: In all the Difficulties and Crosses of my life, this is my Consideration: Since it is God's Will, I do not only obey, but assent to't; nor do I comply, out of Necessity, but Inclination.  
Here follows now, says Tacitus, the Death of Seneca, to Nero's 
Annal. Lib. 15. Cap. 14.  great satisfaction: Not so much for any pregnant Proof against him, that he was of Piso's Conspiracy; but Nero was resolved to do that by the Sword, which he could not Effect by Poison. For, it is reported, that Nero had corrupted Cleonicus (a Freeman of Seneca ' s) to give his Master Poison; which did not succeed: whether that the servant had discovered it to his Master; or that Seneca by his own caution, and jealousy, had avoided it; for he lived only upon a simple Diet, as the Fruits of the Earth; and his Drink was most commonly Riverwater.  
Natalis, it seems, was sent upon a Visit to him (being indisposed) with a Complaint, that he would not let Piso come at him; and Advising him to the Continuance of their Friendship, and Acquaintance, as formerly. To whom Seneca made Answer, That frequent Meetings, and Conferences betwixt them, could do neither of them any Good; but that he had a great Interest in Piso's welfare. Hereupon Granius Silvanus (a Captain of the Guard) was sent to examine Seneca upon the Discourse that passed betwixt him, and Natalis, and to return his Answer. Seneca, either by Chance, or upon Purpose, came that day from Campania, to a Villa of his own, within four Miles of the City; and thither the Officer went the next Evening, and beset the Place. He found Seneca at Supper with his Wife Paulina, and two of his Friends; and gave him immediately an Account of his Commission. Seneca told him, that it was true, that Natalis had been with him, in Piso's Name, with a Complaint, that Piso could not be admitted to see him; and that he exoused himself by reason of his want of health; and his desires to be quiet, and private; and that he had no reason to prefer another Man's Welfare before his own. Caesar himself, he said, knew very well that he was not a Man of Compliment, having received more Proofs of his Freedom, than of his Flattery. This Answer of Seneca's was delivered to Caesar in the Presence of Poppaea and Tigellinus, the Intimate Confidents of this Barbarous Prince: and Nero asked him, Whether he could gather any thing from Seneca, as if he intended to make himself away? The Tribunes Answer was, That he did not find him one jot moved with the Message; but that he went on roundly with his Tale, and never so much as changed Countenance for the matter. Go back to him then, says Nero, and tell him, That he is Condemned to Die. Fabius Rusticus delivers it, that the Tribune did not return the same way he came, but went aside to Fenius (a Captain of that Name) and told him Caesar's Orders; ask his Advice, whether he should obey them, or not; who bade him by all means to do as he was Ordered. Which want of Resolution was fatal to them all; for Silvanus also, that was one of the Conspirators, assisted now to serve, and to increase those Crimes, which he had before complotted to revenge. And yet he did not think fit to appear himself in the business, but sent a Centurion to Seneca, to tell him his Doom. Seneca, without any surprise, or disorder, calls for his Will; which being refused him by the Officer, he turned to his Friends, and told them, That since he was not permitted to requite them as they deserved, he was yet at liberty to bequeath them the thing of all others that he esteemed the most, that is the Image of his Life: which should give them the Reputation both of Constancy, and Friendship, if they would but imitate it: exhorting them to a firmness of Mind; sometimes by Good Counsel; otherwhile by Reprehension, as the occasion required. Where, says he, is all your Philosophy now? all your Premeditated Resolutions against the violences of Fortune? Is there any Man so Ignorant of Nero's Cruelty, as to expect, after the Murder of his Mother, and his Brother, that he should ever spare the Life of his Governor, and Tutor? After some General Expressions to this Purpose; he took his Wife in his Arms, and having somewhat fortified her against the Present Calamity, he besought, and conjured her to moderate her Sorrows, and betake herself to the Contemplations, and Comforts of a Virtuous Life; which would be a fair, and an ample Consolation to her for the loss of her Husband. Paulina on the either side, tells him her determination to bear him Company, and Wills for the Executioner to do his Office. Well, says Seneca, if after the sweetness of Life, as I have represented it to thee, thou hadst rather entertain an honourable Death, I shall not envy thy Example; consulting, at the same time, the Fame of the Person he loved, and his own tenderness, for fear of the Injuries that might attend her when he was gone. Our Resolution says he, in this Generous Act▪ may be equal, but thine will be the greater Reputation. After this, the Veins of both their Arms were opened, at one and the same stroke. Seneca did not bleed so freely, his spirits being wasted with Age, and a thin Diet, so that he was forced to cut the Veins of his Thighs, and elsewhere, to hasten his dispatch. When he was far spent, and almost sinking under his Torments, he desired his Wife to remove into another Chamber, lest the Agonyes of the one might work upon the Courage of the other. His Eloquence continued to the last, as appears by the Excellent Things he delivered at his Death; which being taken in Writing from his own Mouth, and published in his own words, I shall not presume to deliver them in any other. Nero, in the mean time, who had no particular Spite to Paulina, gave Orders to prevent her Death, for fear His Cruelty should grow more, and more Insupportable, and Odious. Whereupon the Soldiers gave all freedom, and encouragement to her Servants, to Bind up her Wounds, and stop the Blood, which they did accordingly, but whether she was sensible of it or not, is a Question: For, among the Common People, who are apt to judge the worst, there were some of Opinion, that as long as she despaired of Nero's Mercy, she seemed to Court the Glory of dying with her Husband for Company, but that upon the likelihood of better Quarter, she was prevailed upon to outlive him; And so, for some years, she did survive him, with all Piety and Respect to his Memory: but so miserably pale and wan, that every body might Read the Loss of her Blood, and Spirits, in her very Countenance.  
Seneca finding his Death slow, and linger, desires Statius Annaeus (his old Friend, and Physician) to give him a Dose of Poison, which he had provided beforehand, being the same Preparation which was appointed for Capital Offenders in Athens. This was brought him, and he drank it up, but to little purpose, for his Body was already chilled, and bound up against the force of it. He went at last into a hot Bath, and sprinkling some of his servants that were next him; This, says he, is an Oblation to Jupiter the Deliverer. The fume of the Bath soon dispatched him, and his Body was Burnt, without any Funeral solemnity, as he had directed in his Testament: though this Will of his was made in the height of his Prosperity, and Power, There was a Rumour that Subrius Flavius, in a Private consultation with the Centurions, had taken up this following Resolution, (and that Seneca himself was no stranger to it) that is to say, that after Nero should have been slain by the help of Piso, Piso himself should have been killed too: and the Empire delivered up to Seneca; as one that well deserved it, for his Integrity and Virtue.   

BOOKS Printed for, and sold by H. Brome, since the dreadful Fire of LONDON 1666, to 1677.  

Divinity.  
BIshop Wilkins of Natural Religion.  
M Cumber's Companion to the Temple, being a Paraphrase on the Common Prayer. 3 Vol.  
Bishop Cosen's Devotions.  
Bishop Tailor Holy Living and Dying.  
Mr. Fowler's Design of Christianity.  
Mr. Patrick's Witnesses to Christianity in 2 Vol.  
— His Advice to a Friend.  
Dr. Spark's Devotions on the Feasts and Fasts of the Church.  
Dr. Du Moulin's Prayers.  
Holy Anthems of the Church.  
The Saints Legacies.  
The Reformed Monastery, or the Love of jesus.  
Mr. Farindon's Sermons.  
Bona's Guide to Eternity,  
And his Precepts and Practical Rules for a Christian Life.  
Several Sermons at Court, etc.  
Dr. Duport's Three Sermons on May 29. Nou. 5. jan. 30.   

Histories.  
The Life of the great Duke of Espernon, being the History of the Civil Wars of France, beginning 1598. Where D'Avila leaves off, and ending in 1642. by Charles Cotton Esq  
The Commentary of Mr. Blaiz de Montluc the great Favourite of France, in which are contained all the Sieges, battles, Skirmishes, in three Kings Reigns, by Charles Cotton Esq  
Mr. Rycaut's History of Turkey.  
The History of the Three last Grand Signors.  
The History of Don Quixot, Fol.  
Bishop Wilkins' Real Character, Fol.  
Bishop Cousins against Transubstantiation.  
Dr. Guidots Hist. of bath, and of the hot Waters there.  
The Fair one of Tunis, a Romance.  
Domus Carthusiana, or the History of the most Noble Foundation of the Charter-House in London, with the Life and Death of Tho. Sutton Esq  
The History of the Sevarites, a Nation inhabiting part of the third Continent.   

Physic.  
Dr. Glisson de Ventriculo & Intestinis.  
De Vita Naturae.  
Dr. Barbet's Practice, with Dr. Deoker's Notes.  
Sir Ken. Digbies Excellent Receipts in Physic, Chirurgery, and Cookery.  
The Anatomy of the Elder-tree, with its approved Virtue.   

Miscellanies.  
Vossius of the Wind and Seas.  
Dr. Skinner's Lexicon.  
The Planters Manuel.  
Treatise of Humane Reason.  
The Complete Gamester.  
Toleration discussed, by R. L'Estrange Esq  
England's Improvement, by R. Coke Esq  
Leyburn's Arith. Recreations.  
Geographical Cards describing all parts of the World, and a Geographical Dictionary.   

School-Books.  
Screvelius Lexicon, in Quarto.  
Centum Fabulae, in Octavo.  
Nolens Volens, or you shall make Latin.  
Radyns Rudimenta Artis Oratoriae.  
Pools Parnassus.  
The Scholars Guide from the Accidence to the University.  
Erasmus Coll. English.  
Lipsius' of Constancy, English.   

Controversies.  
Considerations touching the true way to suppress Popery; to which is added an Historical account of the Reformation here in England.  
Lex Talionis, being an Answer to Naked Truth.  
The Papists Apology answered.  
And several Tracts in Defence of the Church of England.    
SENECA OF Benefits.  

CHAP. I. Of Benefits in General.  
IT is perhaps, one of the most pernicious Errors of a Rash, and Inconsiderate Life; the Common Ignorance of the World in the Matter of exchanging Benefits. And this arises from a Mistake; partly, in the Person that we would Oblige; and partly, in the thing itself. To begin with the Latter; A Benefit is a good Office, done with Intention, and judgement: that is to say, with a due regard to all the Circumstances, of What; How; Why; When; Where; to whom; how much; and the like. Or otherwise; It is a Voluntary, and Benevolent Action, that delights the Giver, in the Comfort it brings to the Receiver. It will be hard to draw this Subject, either into Method, or Compass; the one, because of the infinite variety, and Complication of Cases; the other, by reason of the large Extent of it: For the whole Business (almost) of Mankind in Society, falls under this Head: The Duties of Kings and Subjects; Husbands, and Wives; Parents, and Children; Masters, and Servants; Natives, and Strangers; High, and Low; Rich, and Poor; Strong, and Weak; Friends, and Enemies. The very Meditation of it breeds good Blood, and generous Thoughts; and instructs us in all the Parts of Honour, Humanity, Friendship, Piety, Gratitude, Prudence, and Justice. In short; the Art, and Skill of conferring Benefits, is, of all Humane Duties, the most absolutely necessary to the wellbeing, both of Reasonable Nature, and of every Individual; as the very Cement of all Communities, and the Blessing of Particulars. He that does good to another Man, does good also to himself; not only in the Consequence, but even in the very Act of doing it; for the Conscience of well-doing is an ample Reward.  
OF Benefits in General, there are several sorts; As 
a Benefits Necessary, Profitable, and Delightful.  Necessary, Profitable, and Delightful. Some things there are, without which we Cannot Live; Others, without which we Ought not to live; and some again, without which we Will not live. In the first Rank are those, which deliver us from capital Dangers, or Apprehensions of Death: And the favour is rated according to the hazard; for the greater the Extremity, the greater seems the Obligation. The next is a Case wherein we may indeed Live, but we had better Die: As in the Question of Liberty, Modesty, and a good Conscience. In the third place, follow those things which Custom, Use, Affinity, and Acquaintance have made dear to us; As Husbands, Wives, Children, Friends, etc. Which an honest Man will Preserve at his utmost Peril: Of things Profitable there's a large Field; as Money, Honour, etc. to which might be added Matters of Superfluity, and Pleasure: But, we shall open a way to the Circumstances of a Benefit, by some previous, and more General deliberations upon the thing itself.   

CHAP. II. Several Sorts of Benefits.  
WE shall divide Benefits into Absolute, and 
b Benefits Absolute and Vulgar.  Vulgar; the One, appertaining to Good Life; the Other, is only Matter of Commerce. The former are the more Excellent, because they can never be made void: whereas all Material Benefits are tossed back, and forward, and change their Master. There are some Offices that look like Benefits, but are only desirable Conveniencies; as Wealth, Title, etc. and These a Wicked Man may receive from a Good, or a Good Man, from an Evil. Others again, that bear the face of Injuries, which are only Benefits ill-taken; as Cutting, Lancing, Burning, under the hand of a Surgeon. The greatest Benefits of all, are those of good Education, which we receive from our Parents, either in the State of Ignorance, or Perverseness; as their Care and Tenderness in our Infancy; Their Discipline in our Childhood, to keep us to our duties by fear; and, if fair means will not do, their Proceeding afterward to severity, and Punishment, without which we should never have come to good. There are Matters of great value many times, that are but of small price; as Instructions from a Tutor; Medicines from a Physician, etc. And there are small matters again which are of great consideration to us: the Gift may be small, and the consequence great, as a Cup of cold Water in a time of need, may save a Man's Life; some things are of great Moment to the Giver; others to the Receiver; One Man gives me a House; another snatches me out, when 'tis falling upon my head; One gives me an Estate; Another takes me out of the Fire; or casts me out a Rope when I am sinking: Some good Offices we do to Friends; Others, to Strangers; but, those are the noblest that we do without Predesert. There is an Obligation of Bounty; and an Obligation of Charity: This, in case of Necessity; and That, in point of Convenience. Some Benefits are Common; Others are Personal: as if a Prince (out of pure Grace) grant a Privilege to a City; the Obligation lies upon the Community, and only upon every Individual as a Part of the whole; but if it be done particularly for my sake, then am I singly the Debtor for't. The cherishing of Strangers is one of the duties of Hospitality; and exercises itself in the Relief, and Protection of the Distressed. There are Benefits of good Counsel, Reputation, Life, Fortune, Liberty, Health; nay, and of Superfluity, and Pleasure. One Man obliges me out of his Pocket: Another gives me Matter of Ornament, or Curiosity: a Third, Consolation. To say nothing of Negative Benefits; for there are, that reckon it an Obligation if they do a Body no hurt; and place it to Account, as if they saved a Man, when they do not undo him. To shut up all in one word; as Benevolence is the most sociable of all Virtues, so is it of the largest Extent; for, there is not any Man either so great, or so little, but he is yet capable of giving, and of receiving Benefits.   

CHAP. III. A Son may Oblige his Father; and, a Servant his Master.  
THE Question is (in the first Place) Whether it may not be possible for a Father to owe more to a Son, in other respects, than the Son 
a How far a Son may Oblige a Father.  owes to his Father for his Being? That many Sons are both Greater, and Better than their Fathers, there is no Question: as there are many other things that derive their Being's from others, which yet are far greater than their Original. Is not the Tree larger than the Seed? The River, than the Fountain? The Foundation of all things lies hid, and the Superstructure obscures it. If I owe all to my Father, because he gave me Life, I may owe as much to a Physician that saved his Life; for, if my Father had not been Cured, I had never been Begotten: Or, if I stand indebted for all that I am to my Beginning; my Acknowledgement must run back to the very Original of all Humane Being's. My Father gave me the Benefit of Life, which he had never done, if his Father had not first given it to him. He gave me Life, not knowing to whom, and when I was in a Condition neither to feel Death, nor to fear it. That's the great Benefit, to give Life to one that knows how to use it; and that is capable of the Apprehension of Death. 'Tis true, that without a Father, I could never have had a Being; and so without a Nurse that Being had never been emprov'd; but I do not therefore owe my Virtue either to my Nativity, or to her that gave me Suck. The generation of me was the least part of the Benefit: For to Live, is common with Brutes; but, to Live well is the main business; and that Virtue is all my own, saving what I drew from my Education. It does not follow that the first Benefit must be the greatest, because without the first, the greatest could never have been. The Father gives Life to the Son, but once; but if the Son saves the Father's Life often, though he do but his duty, it is yet a greater Benefit. And again, the Benefit that a Man receives is the greater, the more he needs it; but, the Living has more need of Life, than he that is not yet born: So that the Father receives a greater Benefit in the Continuance of his Life, than the Son in the Beginning of it. What if a Son deliver his Father from the Rack; or, which is more, lay himself down in his place? The giving of him a Being, was but the Office of a Father; a simple Act; a Benefit given at a venture; beside that he had a Participant in it, and a regard to his Family. He gave only a single Life, and he received a happy one. My Mother brought me into the World Naked, exposed, and void of Reason; but, my Reputation, and my Fortune, are advanced by my Virtue. Scipio (as yet in his Minority) rescued his Father in a Battle with Hannibal; and afterward from the Practices, and Prosecution of a Powerful Faction; covering him with Consulary Honours, and the Spoils of Public Enemies. He made himself as Eminent for his Moderation, as for his Piety, and Military Knowledge: He was the Defender, and the Establisher of his Country; He left the Empire without a Competitor; and made himself as well the Ornament of Rome, as the Security of it: and, Did not Scipio, in all this, more than requite his Father barely for Begetting of him? Whether did Anchises more for Aeneas, in dandling the Child in his Arms, or Aeneas for his Father, when he carried him upon his Back through the Flames of Troy, and made his Name famous to future Ages, among the Founders of the Roman Empire? T. Manlius was the Son of a Sour, and Imperious Father, who banished him his House as a Blockhead, and a scandal to the Family: This Manlius, hearing that his Father's Life was in Question, and a day set for his Trial, went to the Tribune that was concerned in the Cause, and discoursed him about it: the Tribune told him the appointed time, and withal (as an Obligation upon the young Man) that his Cruelty to his Son would be part of his Accusation: Manlius, upon this, takes the Tribune aside, and presenting a Poniard to his breast, Swear, says he, that you will let this Cause fall, or you shall have this Dagger in the heart of you; and now 'tis at your choice, which way you will deliver my Father. The Tribune Swore, and kept his Word; and made a fair Report of the whole matter to the Council. He that makes himself Famous by his Eloquence, Justice, or Arms, illustrates his Extraction, let it be never so mean; and gives inestimable Reputation to his Parents. We should never have heard of Sophroniscus, but for his Son Socrates; nor of Aristo, and Gryllus, if it had not been for Xenophon, and Plato.  
THIS is not to discountenance the Veneration we owe to Parents; nor to make Children the worse, but the better; and to stir up generous Emulations: for, in Contests of good Offices, both Parts are happy; as well the vanquished, as those that overcome. It is the only honourable dispute that can arrive betwixt a Father and a Son, which of the two shall have the better of the other in the Point of Benefits.  
IN the Question betwixt a Master, and a Servant; we must distinguish betwixt 
b A Servant may oblige his Master.  Benefits, Duties, and Actions Ministerial; By Benefits we understand those good Offices that we receive from Strangers, which are voluntary, and may be forborn without blame. Duties are the Parts of a Son, and Wife; and incumbent upon Kindred, and Relations. Offices Ministerial belong to the Part of a Servant. Now, since it is the Mind, and not the Condition of the Person, that Prints the Value upon the Benefit, a Servant may oblige his Master, and so may a Subject his Sovereign, or a Common Soldier his General, by doing more than he is expressly bound to do. Some things there are, which the Law neither commands, nor forbids; and here the Servant is free. It would be very hard for a Servant to be chastised for doing less than his duty, and not thanked for't when he does more. His Body, 'tis true, is his Masters, but his Mind is his own: and there are many Commands which a Servant ought no more to obey, than a Master to impose. There is no Man so great, but he may both need the help, and service, and stand in fear of the Power and Unkindness, even of the meanest of Mortals. One Servant Kills his Master, another Saves him; nay preserves his Master's Life, perhaps with the loss of his own. He exposes himself to Torment and Death; he stands firm against all threats and flatteries: which is not only a Benefit in a Servant, but much the greater for his so being.  
WHEN Domitius was besieged in Corfinium, and the Place brought to great extremity; he pressed his servant so earnestly to Poison him, that at last he was prevailed upon to give him a Potion: which, it seems, was an innocent Opiate, and Domitius outlived it: Caesar took the Town, and gave Domitius his Life; but it was his Servant that gave it him first.  
THERE was another Town besieged, and, when it was upon the last pinch, two Servants made their escape, and went over to the Enemy: Upon the Romans entering the Town, and in the heat of the Soldiers fury, these two Fellows ran directly home, took their Mistress out of her house, and drove her before them, telling every body how barbarously she had used them formerly, and that they would now have their Revenge: when they had her without the Gates, they kept her close till the danger was over; by which means, they gave their Mistress her Life, and she gave them their Freedom. This was not the Action of a Servile Mind, to do so Glorious a thing, under an appearance of so great a Villainy; for, if they had not passed for Deserters, and Parricides, they could not have gained their End.  
WITH one Instance more (and that a very brave one) I shall conclude this Chapter.  
IN the Civil Wars of Rome, a Party coming to search for a Person of Quality that was proscribed, a Servant put on his Master's clothes, and delivered himself up to the Soldiers, as the Master of the House; he was taken into Custody, and put to death, without discovering the Mistake. What could be more glorious, than for a Servant to die for his Master? in that Age, when there were not many Servants that would not betray their Masters? So generous a tenderness in a Public Cruelty; So invincible a Faith in a General Corruption; What could be more glorious, I say, than so exalted a Virtue, as rather to choose death for the Reward of his Fidelity, than the greatest advantages he might otherwise have had for the violation of it?   

CHAP. IU. It is the Intention, not the Matter, that makes the Benefit.  
THE Good will of the Benefactor is the Fountain of all Benefits: nay, it is the Benefit itself; or, at least the Stamp that makes it valuable, and current. Some there are, I know, that take the Matter for the Benefit; and tax the Obligation by weight and measure. When any thing is given them, they presently cast it up; What may such a House be worth? Such an Office? Such an Estate? As if that were the Benefit, which is only the Sign, and Mark of it: For, the Obligation rests in the Mind, not in the Matter; And, all those Advantages which we see, handle, or hold in actual possession by the Courtesy of another, are but several Modes, or Ways of Explaining, and putting the Good Will in Execution. There needs no great subtlety, to prove, that both Benefits and Injuries receive their value from the Intention, when even Brutes themselves are able to decide this Question. Tread upon a Dog by chance, or put him to pain upon the dressing of a Wound; the one, he passes by as an Accident; and the other, in his fashion, he acknowledges as a Kindness; but, offer to strike at him, though you do him no hurt at all, he flies yet in the face of you, even for the Mischief that you barely meant him.  
IT is further to be observed, that all 
a All Benefits are good.  Benefits are good; and (like the distributions of Providence) made up of Wisdom and Bounty: whereas the Gift itself is neither good, nor bad, but may indifferently be applied, either to the one, or to the other. The Benefit is Immortal, the Gift Perishable: For, the Benefit itself continues, when we have no longer, either the Use, or the Matter of it. He that is dead, was alive; He that has lost his Eyes, did see; and, whatsoever is done, cannot be rendered undone. My Friend (for Instance) is taken by Pirates; I redeem him; and, after that, he falls into other Pirates hands: his Obligation to me is the same still, as if he had preserved his Freedom. And so, if I save a Man from any one Misfortune, and he falls into another; if I give him a Sum of Money, which is afterward taken away by Thiefs; it comes to the same Case. Fortune may deprive us of the Matter of a Benefit, but the Benefit itself remains inviolable. If the Benefit resided in the Matter, that which is good for one Man, would be so for another; whereas many times the very same thing given to several Persons, works contrary effects; even to the difference of Life, or Death; and, that which is one bodies Cure, proves another body's Poison. Beside that the Timeing of it altars the value; and, a Crust of Bread upon a pinch, is a greater Present than an Imperial Crown. What is more Familiar, than, in a Battle, to shoot at an Enemy, and kill a Friend? Or, in stead of a Friend, to save an Enemy? But yet this disappointment in the Event, does not at all operate upon the Intention. What if a Man cures me of a Wen, with a stroke that was designed to cut off my head? Or, with a Malicious blow upon my Stomach, breaks an Imposthume? or, What if he save my Life, with a Draught that was prepared to Poison me? The Providence of the Issue does not at all discharge the Obliquity of the Intent▪ And, the same Reason holds good even in Religion itself: It is not the Incense, or the Offering that is acceptable to God, but the Purity, and Devotion of the Worshipper. Neither is the bare Will, without Action, sufficient; that is, where we have the Means of Acting; for, in that Case, it signifies as little to wish well, without well- doing, as to do good without willing it. There must be Effect, as well as Intention, to make me owe a Benefit; but, to will against it, does wholly discharge it. In fine, the Conscience alone is the Judge, both of Benefits and Injuries.  
IT does not follow now, because the Benefit rests in the 
b The Good Will must be accompanied with judgement.  Good Will, that therefore the Good Will should be always a Benefit; for, if it be not accompanied with Government, and Discretion, those Offices which we call Benefits, are but the Works of Passion, or of Chance; and, many times, the greatest of all Injuries. One Man does me good by Mistake; another, Ignorantly; a third upon force; but, none of these Cases do I take to be an Obligation, for they were neither directed to me, nor was there any kindness of Intention: We do not thank the Seas for the Advantages we receive by Navigation; or the Rivers, for supplying us with Fish, and flowing of our Grounds; we do not thank the Trees either for their Fruits, or Shades; or the Winds for a fair Gale: And, What's the difference betwixt a reasonable Creature, that does not know, and an Inanimate, that cannot? A good Horse saves one Man's Life; a good Suit of Arms Another's; and, a Man perhaps, that never intended it, saves a Third. Where's the difference now betwixt the Obligation of the one, and of the other? A Man falls into a River, and the fright cures him of an Ague; we may call this a kind of lucky Mischance, but not a Remedy. And so it is with the Good we receive, either without or beside, or contrary to Intention. It is the Mind, and not the Event, that distinguishes a Benefit from an Injury.   

CHAP. V. There must be judgement in a Benefit, as well as Matter, and Intention; and especially in the Choice of the Person.  
AS it is the Will, that Designs the Benefit; and the Matter, that Conveys it; So it is the judgement that perfects it: which depends upon so many Critical Niceties, that the least Error, either in the Person, the Matter, the Manner, the Quality, the Quantity, the Time, or the Place, spoils all.  
THE Consideration of the Person is a 
a The Choice of the Person is a Main Point.  Main Point; for, we are to give by choice, and not by hazard. My Inclination bids me oblige one Man; I am bound in Duty, and Justice, to serve another; here 'tis Charity, there 'tis Pity; and, elsewhere perhaps Encouragement. There are some that want, to whom I would not give; because, if I did, they would want still. To one Man I would barely offer a Benefit; but, I would press it upon another. To say the truth, we do not employ any Money to more profit, than that which we bestow: and 'tis not to our Friends, our Acquaintances, or Countrymen; nor to this, or that Condition of Men, that we are to restrain our Bounties; but, wheresoever there is a Man, there is a Place, and Occasion for a Benefit. We give to some that are good already; too others, in hope to make them so; but, we must do all with discretion: for, we are as answerable for what we give; as for what we receive: Nay, the Misplacing of a Benefit is worse, than the not Receiving of it: For, the one is another Man's fault; but, the other is mine. The Error of the Giver does ofttimes excuse the Ingratitude of the Receiver; for, a Favour ill-placed is rather a Profusion, than a Benefit. It is the most shameful of Losses, an Inconsiderate bounty. I will choose a Man of Integrity, Sincere, Considerate, Graceful, Temperate, Well-natured; neither Covetous, nor Sordid. And, when I have obliged such a Man, though not worth a Groat in the World, I have gained my end. If we give, only to receive, we lose the fairest objects for our Charity; the Absent, the Sick, the Captive, and the Needy. When we oblige those that can never pay us again in kind; as a Stranger upon his last Farewell; or a Necessitous Person upon his Deathbed, we make Providence our Debtor; and rejoice in the Conscience even of a Fruitless Benefit. So long as we are affected with Passions, and distracted with hopes, and fears; and (the most unmanly of Vices) with our Pleasures, we are incompetent Judges where to place our Bounties. But, when Death presents itself, and that we come to our Last Will and Testament, we leave our Fortunes to the most worthy. He that gives nothing but in hopes of receiving, must die Intestate. It is the Honesty of another Man's Mind that moves the Kindness of Mine; and I would sooner oblige a Grateful Man, than an Ungrateful: but, this shall not hinder me from doing good also to a Person that is known to be Ungrateful: Only with this difference, that I will serve the one in all Extremities with my life, and fortune; and the other, no further than stands with my Convenience. But, What shall I do, you'll say, to know whether a Man will be grateful, or no? I will follow Probability, and hope the best. He that Sows, is not sure to Reap; nor the Seaman to reach his Port; nor the Soldier to win the Field. He that Weds is not sure his Wife shall be honest; or, his Children dutiful: but, Shall we therefore neither Sow, Sail, bear Arms, nor Mary? Nay, if I knew a Man to be incurably thankless, I would yet be so kind as to put him into his Way, or let him Light a Candle, or Draw Water at my Well, which may stand him perhaps in great stead, and yet not be reckoned as a Benefit from me; for I do it carelessly, and not for his sake, but my own; as an Office of Humanity, without any Choice, or Kindness.   

CHAP. VI The Matter of Obligations, with its Circumstances.  
NEXT to the Choice of the Person, follows that of the Matter; wherein a regard must be had to Time, Place, Proportion, Quality; and, to the very Nicks of Opportunity, and Humour. One Man values his Peace above his Honour; Another, his Honour above his Safety; and, not a few there are, that (provided they may save their Bodies) never care what becomes of their Souls. So that Good Offices depend much upon Construction. Some take themselves to be obliged, when they are not, Others will not believe it, when they are; and some again take Obligations, and Injuries, the one, for the other.  
FOR our better direction, let it be noted, That 
a A Benefit is a Common Tie betwixt Giver and Receiver.  a Benefit is a Common Tie, betwixt the Giver, and the Receiver, with a respect to both. Wherefore, it must be accommodate to the Rules of Discretion; for all things have their Bounds, and Measures, and so must Liberality among the rest; that it be neither too much for the One, nor too little for the Other; the Excess being every jot as bad as the Defect. Alexander bestowed a City upon one of his Favourites; who modestly excusing himself, That it was too much for him to receive: Well; But, says Alexander, it is not too much for me to give: a haughty, certainly, and an imprudent Speech; for, that which was not fit for the one to Take, could not be fit for the other to Give. It passes in the World for Greatness of Mind, to be perpetually giving, and loading of People with Bounties: but, 'tis one thing to know how to give, and another thing not to know how to keep. Give me a heart that's easy and open, but I'll have no holes in't; let it be bountiful with Judgement, but I'll have nothing run out of it I know not how. How much greater was he that refused the City, than the other that offered it? Some men throw away their Money as if they were Angry with it, which is the Error commonly of weak Minds, and large Fortunes. No Man esteems of any thing that comes to him by Chance; but, when 'tis Governed by Reason, it brings Credit both to the Giver, and Receiver; whereas those favours are, in some sort, scandalous, that make a Man ashamed of his Patron.  
IT is a Matter of great Prudence, for the Benefactor to Suit the Benefit to the Condition of the 
b A Benefit must be suited to the Condition of the Receiver.  Receiver; who must be, either his Superior, his Inferior, or his Equal, and that which would be the highest Obligation imaginable to the one, would, perhaps, be as great a Mockery, and Affront to the other: As a Plate of broken Meat (for the Purpose) to a Rich Man, were an Indignity, which to a Poor Man is a Charity. The Benefits of Princes, and of Great Men, are Honours, Offices, Moneys, Profitable Commissions, Countenance, and Protection; The Poor Man has nothing to Present, but goodwill, Good Advice, Faith, Industry, the Service, and Hazard of his Person, an early Apple peradventure, or some other cheap Curiosity: Equals indeed may correspond in Kind; but, whatsoever the Present be, or to whomsoever we offer it, this General Rule must be observed, That we always design the good, and satisfaction of the Receiver; and, never grant any thing to his detriment. 'Tis not for a man to say, I was overcome by Importunity, for when the Fever is off, we detest the man that was prevailed upon to our destruction. I will no more undo a man with his Will, then forbear saving him against it. It is a Benefit in some Cases to Grant, and in others to deny; So that we are rather to consider the Advantage, than the Desire of the Petitioner. For, we may, in a Passion, earnestly beg for (and take it ill to be denied too) that very thing, which, upon second thoughts, we may come to curse, as the occasion of a most Pernicious Bounty. Never give any thing that shall turn to Mischief, Infamy, or Shame. I will consider another Man's want, or safety; but so, as not to forget my own; Unless in the case of a very excellent Person, and then I shall not much heed what becomes of myself. There's no giving of Water to a Man in a Fever; or putting of a Sword into a Madman's hand; He that lends a Man Money to carry him to a Bawdy-house, or a Weapon for his Revenge, makes himself a Partaker of his Crime.  
HE that would make an 
c An Acceptable Present.  acceptable Present, will pitch upon something that is desired, sought for, and hard to be found; that which he sees no where else, and which few have; or at least not in that place, or season; something that may be always in his Eye, and mind him of the Benefactor. If it be lasting and durable, so much the better; as Plate, rather than Money; Statues, than Apparel; for it will serve as a Monitor, to mind the Receiver of the Obligation, which the Presenter cannot so handsomely do. However, let it not be improper, as Arms to a Woman; Books to a Clown; Toys to a Philosopher: I will not Give to any Man that which he cannot receive; as if I threw a Ball to a man without hands; but I will make a Return, though he cannot receive it; for, my business is not to oblige him, but to free myself: Nor any thing that may reproach a man of his Vice, or Infirmity: as false Dice to a Cheat; Spectacles to a man that's blind. Let it not be unseasonable, neither: as a furred Gown in Summer; an Umbrella in Winter. It enhances the value of the Present, if it was never given to him by any body else, nor by me to any other; for, that which we give to every body, is welcome to no body. The Particularity does much, but yet the same thing may receive a different Estimate from several Persons; for, there are ways of marking, and recommending it in such a manner, that if the same good Office be done to twenty people, every one of them shall reckon himself peculiarly obliged: as a cunning Whore, if she has a thousand Sweethearts, will persuade every one of them, that she loves him best. But, this is rather the Artifice of Conversation, than the virtue of it.  
THE Citizens of Megara sent Ambassadors to 
d Let the Present be singular.  Alexander in the Height of his Glory, to offer him, as a Compliment, the Freedom of their City. Upon Alexander's smiling at the Proposal, they told him, That it was a Present which they had never made, but to Hercules, and Himself: Whereupon, Alexander treated them kindly, and accepted of it; not for the Presenters sakes, but because they had joined him with Hercules; how unreasonably soever: For, Hercules Conquered nothing for himself, but made it his business to vindicate, and to protect the miserable, without any private Interest, or Design: But this intemperate young man (whose Virtue was nothing else but a successful Temerity) was trained up from his youth in the Trade of violence: The Common Enemy of mankind; as well of his Friends, as of his Foes; and one that valued himself upon being terrible to all Mortals: never considering, that the dullest of Creatures are as dangerous, and as dreadful, as the fiercest; for, the poison of a Toad, or the Tooth of a Snake, will do a Man's business as soon as the paw of a Tiger.   

CHAP. VII. The Manner of Obliging.  
THERE is not any Benefit so glorious in itself, but it may yet be exceedingly sweetened, and emprov'd by the Manner of conferring it. The Virtue, I know, rests in the Intent; the Profit, in the Judicious application of the Matter; but, the Beauty, and Ornament of an Obligation lies in the Manner of it; and it is then Perfect, when the dignity of the Office is accompanied with all the Charms, and Delicacies, of Humanity, good Nature, and Address: and with Dispatch too; for, he that puts a Man off from time to time, was never right at heart.  
IN the first place, whatsoever we give, let us do it 
a Give Frankly.  frankly; A kind Benefactor makes a Man happy as soon as he can, and as much as he can. There should be no delay in a Benefit, but the Modesty of the Receiver. If we cannot foresee the Request, let us however immediately grant it, and by no means suffer the Repeating of it. It is so grievous a thing, to say, I BEG; the very word puts a Man out of Countenance: and 'tis a double Kindness to do the thing, and save an honest man the Confusion of a Blush. It comes too late, that comes for the Ask; for, nothing costs us so dear, as that which we purchase with our Prayers: It is all we give, even for Heaven itself; and even there too, where our Petitions are at the fairest, we choose rather to present them in Secret Ejaculations, than by word of Mouth. That is the lasting, and the acceptable Benefit, that meets the Receiver half way. The Rule is, we are to Give, as we would Receive; cheerfully, quickly, and without hesitation; for there's no Grace in a Benefit that sticks to the Fingers. Nay, if there should be occasion for delay, let us, however, not seem to deliberate: for demurring is next door to denying; and, so long as we suspend, so long are we unwilling. It is a Court-humour, to keep People upon the Tenters; their Injuries are quick, and sudden, but their Benefits are slow. Great Ministers love to wrack men with Attendance; and account it an Ostentation of their Power to hold their Suitors in hand, and to have many Witnesses of their Interest. A Benefit should be made acceptable by all possible means, even to the end that the Receiver, who is never to forget it, may bear it in his Mind with satisfaction. There must be no mixture of Sourness, Severity, Contumely, or Reproof, with our Obligations; nay, in case there should be any occasion for so much as an Admonition, let it be referred to another time. We are a great deal apt to remember Injuries, than Benefits; and, 'tis enough to forgive an Obligation, that has the Nature of an Offence.  
THERE are some that spoil a good Office 
b Give Cheerfully.  after it is done; and others, in the very instant of doing it. There must be so much Entreaty and Importunity: nay, if we do but suspect a Petitioner, we put on a sour face; look another way; pretend Haste, Company, Business; talk of other Matters, and keep him off with Artificial Delays, let his Necessities be never so pressing; and when we are put to't at last, it comes so hard from us, that 'tis rather Extorted, than Obtained; and not so properly the giving of a Bounty, as the quitting of a Man's hold upon the Tug, when another is too strong for him: so that this is but doing one kindness for me, and another for himself; He gives for his own Quiet, after he has tormented me with difficulties, and delays. The Manner of Saying, or of Doing any thing, goes a great way in the value of the thing itself. It was well said of him, that called a good Office that was done harshly, and with an ill-will, A Stony Piece of Bread; 'tis necessary for him that is hungry, to receive it; but, it almost chokes a Man in the going down. There must be no Pride, Arrogance of looks, or tumour of Words in the bestowing of Benefits; no Insolence of Behaviour, but a Modesty of Mind, and a diligent care to catch at occasions, and prevent Necessities. A Pause, an Unkind Tone, Word, Look, or Action, destroys the Grace of a Courtesy. It corrupts a Bounty when it is accompanied with State, Haughtiness, and Elation of Mind in the giving of it. Some have the Trick of shifting off a Suitor with a point of Wit, or a Cavil. As in the Case of the Cynic that begged a Talon of Antigonus; That's too much, says he, for a Cynic to ask; and when he fell to a Penny, That's too little, says he, for a Prince to give. He might have found a way to have compounded this Controversy, by giving him a Penny, as to a Cynique; and a Talon, as from a Prince. Whatsoever we bestow, let it be done with a Frank and Cheerful Countenance; a Man must not give with his Hand, and deny with his Looks; he that gives quickly, gives willingly.  
WE are likewise to 
c Accompany Good Deeds with good Words.  accompany Good Deeds with Good Words; and say (for the Purpose) Why should you make such a Matter of this? Why did not you come to me sooner? Why would you make use of any body else? I take it ill that you should bring me a Recommendation; Pray let there be no more of this; but when you have occasion hereafter, come to me upon your own account. That's the glorious Bounty, when the Receiver can say to himself, What a blessed day has this been to me! never was any thing done so generously, so tenderly, with so good a Grace. What is it I would not do to serve this Man? a thousand times as much another way could not have given me this satisfaction. In such a Case, let the Benefit be never so considerable, the manner of conferring it is yet the noblest part. Where there is harshness of Language, Countenance, or Behaviour, a Man had better be without it. A flat denial is infinitely before a vexatious delay; as a quick Death is a Mercy, compared with a linger Torment. But, to be put to Wayting, and Intercessions, after a Promise is past, is a Cruelty Intolerable. 'Tis troublesome to stay long for a Benefit, let it be never so great; and he that holds me needlessly in pain, loses two precious things, Time, and the Proof of Friendship. Nay, the very hint of a Man's wants comes many times too late. If I had Money, said Socrates, I would buy me a Cloak. They that knew he wanted one, should have prevented the very Intimation of that want. It is not the Value of the Present, but the Benevolence of the Mind, that we are to consider. He gave me but a little; but, it was generously, and frankly done; it was a little, out of a little: he gave me it without ask; he pressed it upon me; he watched the opportunity of doing it; and took it as an Obligation upon himself. On the other side, many Benefits are great in show, but little, or nothing perhaps in effect; when they come hard, slow, or at unawares. That which is given with Pride and Ostentation, is rather an Ambition, than a Bounty.  
SOME Favours are to be conferred in 
d Some Favours in Public, others in Private.  Public; others in Private. In Public, the rewards of great Actions; as Honours, Charges, or whatsoever else gives a Man Reputation in the World; but, the good Offices we do for a Man in Want, Distress, or under Reproach; these should be known only to those that have the Benefit of them. Nay, not to them neither, if we can handsomely conceal it from whence the favour came: For the Secrecy in many Cases, is a main part of the Benefit. There was a good Man that had a Friend, who was both Poor, and Sick, and ashamed to own his Condition: He privately conveyed a Bag of Money under his Pillow, that he might seem rather to find, than receive it. Provided I know that I give it, no matter for his knowing from whence it comes that receives it. Many a man stands in need of help, that has not the face to confess it: if the discovery may give offence, let it lie concealed; He that gives to be seen, would never relieve a man in the dark. It would be tedious to run through all the Niceties that may occur upon this Subject. But, in two words; he must be a Wise, a Friendly, and a Well-bred man, that perfectly acquits himself in the Art, and Duty of Obliging, for, all his Actions must be squared according to the Measures of Civility, Good Nature, and Discretion.   

CHAP. VIII. The Difference and Value of Benefits.  
WE have already spoken of Benefits in General; the Matter, and the Intention; together with the Manner of conferring them. It follows now, in Course, to say something of the Value of them; which is rated, either by the Good they do us, or by the Inconvenience they save us, and has no other Standard than that of a judicious Regard, to Circumstance, and Occasion. Suppose I save a Man from Drowning, the Advantage of Life is all one to him, from what hand soever it comes, or by what means: but, yet there may be a vast difference in the Obligation. I may do it with Hazard, or with Security; with Trouble or with Ease; Willingly, or by Compulsion; upon Intercession, or without it: I may have a Prospect of vain Glory, or Profit; I may do it in Kindness to Another; Or, a hundred By-Ends to myself; and every point does exceedingly vary the Case. Two Persons may part with the same Sum of Money, and yet not the same Benefit; the One had it of his own; and it was but a little out of a great deal; the Other borrowed it; and bestowed upon me that which he wanted for himself. Two Boys were sent out to fetch a certain Person to their Master: The one of them hunts up and down, and comes home again weary, without finding him; the other falls to play with his Companions at the Wheel of Fortune, sees him by chance passing by, delivers him his Errand, and brings him. He that found him by chance deserves to be punished; and he that sought for him, and missed him, to be rewarded for his good Will.  
IN some Cases we value 
a We value the Thing, the Labour, or Attendance.  the Thing; in others, the Labour, and Attendance. What can be more precious than Good Manners, good Letters, Life, and Health? and yet we pay our Physicians, and Tutors, only for their Service in their Professions. If we buy things cheap, it matters not, so long as 'tis a Bargain: 'tis no Obligation from the Seller, if no body else will give him more for't. What would not a Man give to be set a shore in a Tempest? For a House in a Wilderness? A Shelter, in a Storm? A Fire, or a bit of Meat, when a Man's pinched with Hunger, or Cold? A Defence against Thiefs, and a Thousand other Matters of great Moment, that cost but little? And yet we know, that the Skipper has but his freight for our Passage; and the Carpenters and Bricklayers do their Work by the day. Those are many times the greatest Obligations, in truth, which, in vulgar Opinion are the smallest: as Comfort to the Sick, Poor, Captives; good Counsel; keeping of People from Wickedness, etc. Wherefore we should reckon ourselves to owe most for the Noblest Benefits. If the Physician adds Care, and Friendship, to the duty of his Calling, and the Tutor; to the common method of his business; I am to esteem of them as the nearest of my Relations: for, to watch with me; to be troubled for me; and, to put off all other Patients for my sake, is a particular kindness: and so is it in my Tutor, if he takes more pains with me, than with the rest of my fellows. It is not enough, in this Case, to pay the One his Fees, and the other his Salary; but I am indebted to them over and above for their Friendship. The meanest of Mechaniques, if he does his work with Industry, and Care, 'tis an usual thing to cast in something by way of reward, more than the bare Agreement: And, Shall we deal worse with the Preservers of our Lives, and the Reformers of our Manners? He that gives me Himself (if he be worth taking) gives the greatest Benefit: And, this is the Present which Aeschines, a poor Disciple of Socrates, made to his Master, and, as a Matter of great Consideration; Others may have given you much, says he, but I am the only Man that has left nothing to himself: This Gift, says Socrates, you shall never repent of, for I will take care to return it better than I found it: So that a brave Mind can never want Matter for Liberality in the meanest Condition; for, Nature has been so kind to us, that where we have nothing of Fortunes, we may bestow something of our own.  
IT falls out often, that a Benefit is followed with an 
b A ●…eresit foll●…w'd with an Injury.  Injury; let which will be foremost, it is with the latter, as with one Writing upon another; it does in a great measure hide the former, and keep it from appearing, but it does not quite take it away. We may, in some Cases, divide them, and both Requite the One, and Revenge the Other: Or otherwise compare them, to know whether I am Creditor, or Debtor. You have obliged me in my Servant, but wounded me in my Brother; you have saved my Son, but you have destroyed my Father: In this Instance, I will allow as much as Piety, and Justice, and Good Nature will bear; but I am not willing to set an Injury against a Benefit. I would have some respect to the Time; the Obligation came first; and then perhaps, the one was designed, the other against his will; under these Considerations, I would amplify the Benefit, and lessen the Injury; and extinguish the One with the Other; nay, I would pardon the Injury even without the Benefit, but much more after it. Not that a Man can be bound by one Benefit to suffer all sorts of Injuries, for, there are some Cases wherein we lie under no Obligation for a Benefit; because a greater Injury absolves it. As for Example: A Man helps me out of a Lawsuit, and afterward commits a Rape upon my Daughter; where the following Impiety cancels the antecedent Obligation. A Man lends me a little Money, and then sets my House on fire: the Debtor is here turned Creditor, when the Injury outweighs the Benefit. Nay, if a Man does but so much as repent of a good Office done, and grow Sour and Insolent upon it, and upbraid me with it: if he cid it only for his own Sake, or for any other Reason, than for mine; I am in some degree, more, or less, acquitted of the Obligation. I am not at all beholden to him that makes me the Instrument of his own Advantage. He that does me good for his own sake, I'll do him good for mine.  
SUPPOSE a Man makes Suit for a 
c The Case of a Conditional Redemption.  Place, and cannot obtain it, but upon the ransom of ten Slaves out of the Galleys. If there be Ten, and no more, they owe him nothing for their Redemption, they are yet indebted to him for the Choice, for he might have taken Ten others as well as these. Put the Case again, that by an Act of Grace so many Prisoners are to be released; their Names to be drawn by Lot, and mine happens to come out among the rest: One part of my Obligation is to him that put me in a Capacity of Freedom; and, the other is to Providence, for my being one of that Number. The greatest Benefits of all, have no Witnesses, but lie concealed in the Conscience.  
there'S a great difference betwixt a Common Obligation, and a Particular; 
d Obligations Common and Personal.  he that lends my Country Money, obliges me, only as a Part of the Whole. Plato crossed the River, and the Ferryman would take no Money of him: he reflected upon it as an honour done to himself; and told him, That Plato was in his debt. But Plato, when he found it to be no more than he did for others, recalled his Word, For, says he, Plato will owe nothing in particular, for a Benefit in Common; what I owe with others, I will pay with others.  
SOME will have it, that the Necessity 
e Obl●…gations upon Necessity.  of wishing a Man well, is some abatement to the Obligation in the doing of him a good Office. But, I say, on the Contrary, that it is the greater, because the good will cannot be changed. 'Tis one thing to say, That a Man could not but do me this or that Civility, because he was forced to't; and another thing, That he could not quit the good Will of doing it. In the former Case, I am a Debtor to him that imposed the force; in the other, to himself. An Unchangeable good Will is an indispensable Obligation: and, to say, that Nature cannot go out of her Course, does not discharge us, of what we owe to Providence. Shall he be said to Will, that may change his Mind the next moment? And, Shall we question the Will of the Almighty, whose Nature admits no change? Must the Stars quit their Stations, and fall foul one upon another? Must the Sun stand still in the middle of his Course, and Heaven and Earth drop into a Confusion? Must a devouring Fire seize upon the Universe; the Harmony of the Creation be dissolved; and the whole Frame of Nature swallowed up in a dark Abyss? and, Will nothing less than this serve to convince the World of their audacious and impertinent Follies? It is not to say, that, These Heavenly Bodies are not made for us; for, in part they are so; and we are the better for their Virtues and Motions, whether we will or no: though undoubtedly the Principal Cause, is the unalterable Law of God. Providence is not moved by any thing from without; but, the Divine Will is an Everlasting Law; an Immutable Decree; and the Impossibility of Variation proceeds from God's purpose of persevering; for he never reputes of his first Counsels. It is not with our Heavenly, as with our Earthly Father. God thought of us, and provided for us, before he made us: (for, unto him all future events are present:) Man was not the Work of Chance; his Mind carries him above the flight of Fortune, and naturally aspires to the Contemplation of Heaven, and Divine Mysteries. How desperate a Frenzy is it now, to undervalue; nay, to contemn, and to disclaim these Divine Blessings, without which we were utterly incapable of enjoying any other?   

CHAP. IX. An Honest Man cannot be Outdone in Courtesy.  
IT passes in the World for a Generous, and a Magnificent saying, that, ' 'tis a shame for a Man to be outdone in Courtesy: And, it's worth the while to examine both the Truth of it, and the Mistake. First, there can be no shame in a Virtuous Emulation; and, Secondly, there can be no Victory, without crossing the Cudgels, and yielding the Cause. One Man may have the Advantages of Strength, of Means, of Fortune; and this will undoubtedly operate upon the Events of good Purposes, but yet without any diminution to the Virtue. The good Will may be the same in Both, and yet One may have the Heels of the Other; For, it is not in a good Office, as in a Course, where he wins the Plate that comes first to the Post: And even there also, Chance has many times a great hand in the Success. Where the Contest is about Benefits; and that the One has not only a Good Will, but Matter to work upon, and a Power to put that Good Intent in Execution: And the Other has barely a Good Will, without either the Means, or the Occasion of a Requital, if he does but affectionately wish it, and endeavour it; the latter is no more Overcome, in Courtesy, than he is in Courage, that dies with his Sword in his Hand, and his Face to the Enemy, and, without Shrinking, maintains his Station: For, where Fortune is Partial, 'Tis enough that the Good Will is Equal. There are two Errors in this Proposition: First, to imply, that a good Man may be Overcome; and then, to imagine, that any thing Shameful can befall him. The Spartans' prohibited all those Exercises where the Victory was declared by the Confession of the Contendent. The 300 Fabii were never said to be Conquered, but Slain; nor Regulus to be Overcome, though he was taken Prisoner by the Carthaginians. The Mind may stand firm under the greatest Malice, and Iniquity of Fortune; and yet the Giver, and the Receiver, continue upon equal Terms: As we reckon it a drawn Battle, when two Combatants are parted, though the One has lost more Blood than the Other. He that knows how to Owe a Courtesy, and heartily wishes that he could Requite it, is Invincible; So that every Man may be as Grateful as he pleases. 'Tis Your Happiness to Give, 'tis My Fortune, that I can only Receive. What advantage now has your Chance over my Virtue? But, there are some Men that have Philosophised themselves almost out of the sense of Humane Affections; as Diogenes, that walked Naked, and Unconcerned, through the middle of Alexander's Treasures; and was, as well in other men's Opinions, as in his Own, even above Alexander himself, who, at that time, had the whole World at his Feet: for, there was more that the One scorned to Take, than that the Other had in his Power to Give; And, it is a greater Generosity for a Beggar to Refuse Money, than for a Prince to Bestow it. This is a remarkable Instance of an immovable Mind; and there's hardly any contending with it; but a Man is never the less valiant for being worsted by an Invulnerable Enemy; nor the Fire one jote the weaker, for not consuming an Incombustible Body; nor a Sword ever a whit the worse for not cleaving a Rock that is impenetrable; neither is a Grateful Mind overcome for want of an Answerable Fortune. No matter for the Inequality of the things Given, and Received, so long as, in point of good Affection, the two Parties stand upon the same Level. 'Tis no Shame not to overtake a man, if we follow him as fast as we can. That Tumour of a Man, the Vainglorious Alexander, was used to make his Boast, that never any man went beyond him in Benefits; and yet he lived to see a poor fellow in a Tub, to whom there was nothing that he could Give, and from whom there was nothing that he could take away.  
NOR is it always necessary for a poor 
a A Wise Friend is the Noblest of Presents.  Man to fly to the Sanctuary of an Invincible Mind, to quit scores with the Bounties of a Plentiful Fortune; but, it does often fall out, that the Returns which he cannot make in kind, are more than supplied in dignity, and value. Archelaus, a King of Macedon, invited Socrates to his Palace; but he excused himself as unwilling to Receive greater Benefits than he was able to Requite. This perhaps was not Pride in Socrates, but Craft; for he was afraid of being forced to accept of something which possibly might have been unworthy of him: beside that he was a Man of Liberty, and loath to make himself a voluntary Slave. The truth of it is, that Archelaus had more need of Socrates, than Socrates of Archelaus; for, he wanted a Man to teach him the Art of Life, and Death, and the Skill of Government; to Read the Book of Nature to him, and show him the Light at Noon day: He wanted a Man, that, when the Sun was in an Eclipse, and he had locked himself up in all the horror, and despair imaginable; he wanted a Man, I say, to deliver him from his apprehensions, and to expound the Prodigy to him, by telling him, That there was no more in't, than only that the Moon was got betwixt the Sun, and the Earth, and all would be well again presently. Let the World Judge now, whether Archelaus his Bounty, or Socrates his Philosophy, would have been the greater Present: He does not understand the Value of Wisdom, and Friendship, that does not know a wise Friend to be the Noblest of Presents. A Rarity scarce to be found, not only in a Family, but in an Age; and no where more wanted than where there seems to be the greatest store. The greater a Man is, the more need he has of him; and the more difficulty there is both of finding, and of knowing him. Nor is it to be said, that, I cannot requite such a Benefactor, because I am poor, and have it not; I can give good Counsel; a Conversation, wherein he may take both Delight, and Profit; Freedom of Discourse without Flattery; kind attention, where he deliberates; and Faith inviolable where he trusts; I may bring him to a love, and knowledge of Truth; deliver him from the Errors of his Credulity, and teach him to distinguish betwixt Friends, and Parasites.   

CHAP. X. The Question discussed, Whether or no a Man may Give, or Return a Benefit to himself.  
THERE are many Cases wherein a Man speaks of himself as of another. As for Example. I may thank myself for this. I am angry at myself; I hate myself for That. And this way of Speaking has raised a Dispute among the Stoics, Whether or no a Man may Give, or Return a Benefit to himself. For, say they, if I may hurt myself, I may oblige myself; and, that which were a Benefit to another Body, Why is it not so to myself? And, Why am not I as Criminal in being Ungrateful to myself, as if I were so to another body? And, the Case is the same in Flattery, and several other Vices; as on the other side, it is a point of great Reputation, for a Man to Command himself. Plato thanked Socrates for what he had Learned of him; and, Why might not Socrates as well thank Plato for that which he had Taught him? That which you want, says Plato, borrow it of yourself. And, Why may not I as well Give to myself, as Lend? If I may be Angry with myself, I may Thank myself; and, if I Chide myself, I may as well Commend myself, and do myself Good, as well as Hurt: There's the same reason of Contraries. 'Tis a Common thing to say, Such a Man has done himself an Injury. If an Injury, Why not a Benefit? But, I say, that no Man can be a Debtor to himself; for, the Benefit must naturally precede the Acknowledgement; and, a Debtor can no more be without a Creditor, than a Husband, without a Wife. Some body must Give, that some Body may Receive: and, 'tis neither Giving, nor Receiving, the passing of a thing from one hand to the other. What if a Man should be Ungrateful in the Case? there's Nothing lost; for, he that gives it, has it: and he that Gives, and he that Receives, are one and the same Person. Now, properly Speaking, no Man can be said to bestow any thing upon himself, for he obeys his Nature, that prompts every Man to do himself all the good he can. Shall I call him Liberal, that gives to himself; or Good Natured that pardons himself; or Pitiful, that is affected with his own Misfortunes? That which were Bounty, Clemency, Compassion, to another, to myself, is Nature. A Benefit is a voluntary thing; but, to do good to myself, is a thing Necessary. Was ever any Man commended for getting out of a Ditch, or for helping himself against Thiefs? Or, What if I should allow, that a Man may confer a Benefit upon himself? yet he cannot owe it, for he returns it in the same ins●…ant that he receives it. No Man Gives, Owes, or Makes a Return, but to Another. How can one Man do that, to which two Parties are requisite in so many respects? Giving, and Receiving must go backward, and forward, betwixt two Persons. If a Man Give to himself, he may Sell to himself: But, to sell, is to alienate a thing, and to translate the right of it to Another; now, to make Man both the Giver, and the Receiver, is to Unite Two contraries. That's a Benefit, which, when it is Given, may possibly not be Requited; but he that Gives to himself, must necessarily Receive what he Gives; beside that all Benefits are Given for the Receivers sake; but, that which a Man does for himself, is for the sake of the Giver.  
THIS is one of those Subtleties, which, though hardly worth a Man's while, yet it is not labour absolutely lost neither. There is more of Trick, and Artifice in it, than Solidity; and yet there's matter of diversion too; enough perhaps to pass away a Winter's Evening, and keep a Man Waking that's heavyheaded.   

CHAP. XI. How far one Man may be obliged for a Benefit done to Another.  
THE Question now before us, requires Distinction, and Caution. For, though it be both Natural, and Generous, to wish well to my Friend's Friend; yet, a Second-hand Benefit does not bind me any further, than to a Second-hand Gratitude: So that I may Receive great Satisfaction, and Advantage, from a Good Office done to my Friend, and yet lie under no Obligation myself. Or, if any Man thinks otherwise; I must ask him in the first place, Where it begins; and, How far it extends? that it may not be boundless. Suppose a Man Obliges the Son; Does that Obligation work upon the Father? and, Why not upon the Uncle too? The Brother? The Wife? The Sister? The Mother? Nay, upon all that have any Kindness for him? and, upon all the Lovers of his Friends? and upon all that love them too? and so in Infinitum. In this Case we must have Recourse, as is said heretofore, to the Intention of the Benefactor; and fix the Obligation upon him, unto whom the Kindness was directed. If a Man Manures my Ground; keeps my House from burning, or falling, 'tis a Benefit to me, for I am the better for it, and my House and Land are Insensible. But, if he save the Life of my Son, the Benefit is to my Son. It is a Joy, and a Comfort to me, but no Obligation. I am as much concerned as I ought to be in the Health, the Felicity, and the Welfare of my Son; as happy in the Enjoyment of him; And, I should be as unhappy as is possible in his Loss; but, it does not follow, that I must of necessity lie under an Obligation, for being either happier, or less miserable, by another body's means. There are some Benefits, which, although conferred upon one Man, may yet work upon others; as a Sum of Money may be given to a poor Man for his own sake, which, in the Consequence, proves the Relief of his whole Family, but still the immediate Receiver is the Debtor for it; for, the Question is not, To whom it comes afterward to be transferred; but, Who is the Principal? and, upon whom it was first bestowed? My Son's Life is as dear to me as my own; and, in saving him, you preserve me too: In this Case I will acknowledge myself Obliged to you; that is to say, in my Son's Name: for in my own, and in strictness, I am not: but, I am content to make myself a Voluntary Debtor. What if he had borrowed Money? My paying of it, does not at all make it my Debt. It would put me to the blush perhaps, to have him taken in Bed with another Man's Wife; but, that does not make me an Adulterer. 'Tis a wonderful Delight, and Satisfaction that I receive in his Safety: but, still this Good is not a Benefit. A Man may be the better for an Animal, a Plant, a Stone; but, there must be a Will, and Intention, to make it an Obligation. You save the Son, without so much as knowing the Father; Nay, without so much as thinking of him; and, perhaps, you would have done the same thing even if you had hated him. But, without any farther Altercation of Dialogue; the Conclusion is this, if you meant him the Kindness, he is answerable for it; and I may enjoy the fruit of it, without being Obliged by't. But if it was done for My Sake, then am I accountable. Or, howsoever, upon any Occasion, I am ready to do you all the Kind Offices imaginable; not as the Return of a Benefit, but as the Earnest of a Friendship: which you are not to challenge neither, but to entertain as an Act of Honour, and of Justice, rather than of Gratitude. If a Man find the Body of my dead Father in a Desert, and give it Burial; if he did it as to my Father, I am beholden to him; but, if the Body was Unknown to him, and that he would have done the same thing for any other Body, I am no further concerned in it, than as a Piece of Public Humanity.  
THERE are moreover, some Cases, wherein an Unworthy Person may be 
a An unworthy Person may be obliged, for the sake of those that are more worthy.  obliged, for the sake of others; and the sottish Extract of an ancient Nobility may be preferred before a better Man, that is but of yesterday standing. And, it is but reasonable, to pay a Reverence, even to the Memory of eminent Virtues. He that is not Illustrious in Himself, may yet be reputed so in the Right of his Ancestors. And there is a gratitude to be Entailed upon the Offspring of famous Progenitors. Was it not for the Father's sake, that Ci●…ero the Son was made Consul? And, was it not the Eminence of one Pompey, that raised and dignifyed the rest of his Family? How came Caligula to be the Emperor of the World? a Man so Cruel, that he spilt Blood as greedily as if he were to drink it; the Empire was not given to Himself, but to his Father Germanicus; A braver Man deserved that for him, which he could never have challenged upon his own Merit. What was it that preferred Fabius Persicus? (whose very Mouth was the Uncleanest part about him;) What was it, but the 300 of that Family that so generously opposed the Enemy, for the safety of the Commonwealth?  
NAY, 
b Providence itself is gracious to the Wicked Posterity of an Honourable Race.  Providence itself is gracious to the Wicked Posterity of an Honourable Race. The Counsels of Heaven are guided by Wisdom, Mercy, and Justice. Some Men are made Kings for their proper Virtues, without any respect to their Predecessors. Others, for their Ancestors sakes, whose Virtues, though neglected in their Lives, come to be afterward rewarded in their Issue. And, it is but Equity, that our Gratitude should extend as far as the Influence of their Heroical Actions, and Examples.   

CHAP. XII. The Benefactor must have no By-Ends.  
WE come now to the main point of the Matter in Question; that is to say, Whether or no it be a thing desirable in itself, the Giving, and Receiving of Benefits? There is a Sect of Philosophers, that accounts nothing Valuable, but what is Profitable; and so makes all Virtue Mercenary: An Unmanly Mistake, to imagine, that the Hope of Gain, or Fear of Loss, should make a Man either the more, or the less Honest. As who should say, What shall I Get by't, and I'll be an honest Man? Whereas, on the Contrary, Honesty is a thing in itself to be purchased at any rate. It is not for a Body to say, It will be a Charge; a Hazzard; I shall give Offence, etc. My Business is to do what I ought to do: All other Considerations are foreign to the Office. Whensoever my duty calls me, 'tis my part to attend, without Scrupulizing upon Forms, or Difficulties. Shall I see an honest Man oppressed at the Bar, and not assist him, for fear of a Court-Faction? Or not second him upon the Highway against Thiefs, for fear of a Broken-head? And choose rather to sit still, the quiet Spectator of Fraud, and Violence? Why will Men be Just, Temperate, Generous, Brave, but because it carries along with it Fame, and a good Conscience? And for the same Reason, and no other (to apply it to the Subject in hand) let a Man also be Bountiful. The School of Epicurus, I'm sure, will never swallow this Doctrine: (That Effeminate Tribe of Lazy, and Voluptuous Philosophers) They'll tell you, that Virtue is but the Servant and Vassal of Pleasure. No, says Epicurus, I am not for Pleasure neither, without Virtue. But, Why then for Pleasure, say I, before Virtue? Not that the Stress of the Controversy lies upon the Order only; for, the Power of it, as well as the Dignity, is now under debate. It is the Office of Virtue to Superintend, to Led, and to Govern; But, the parts you have assigned it, are, to Submit, to Follow, and to be under Command. But this, you'll say, is nothing to the purpose, so long as both sides are agreed, that there can be no Happiness without Virtue: Take away That, says Epicurus, and I'm as little a Friend to Pleasure as you. The Pinch, in short, is this: Whether Virtue itself be the Supreme Good, or only the Cause of it? It is not the inverting of the Order that will clear this Point; (though 'tis a very preposterous Error, to set that first which should be last.) It does not half so much offend me, the Ranging of Pleasure before Virtue, as the very Comparing of them; and the bringing of two Opposites, and professed Enemies, into any sort of Competition.  
The Drift of this Discourse is, to support the Cause of Benefits; and, to prove, that it is a Mean, and Dishonourable thing, to Give, for any other End, than for 
a Give only for Giving sake.  Giving-sake He that Gives for Gain, Profit, or any By-End, destroys the very Intent of Bounty; For, it falls only upon those that do not want; and perverts the Charitable Inclinations of Princes, and of Great Men, who cannot reasonably propound to themselves any such End. What does the Sun get by travelling about the Universe; by visiting, and comforting all the quarters of the Earth? Is the whole Creation made, and ordered for the good of Mankind, and every particular Man only for the good of himself? There passes not an hour of our Lives, wherein we do not enjoy the Blessings of Providence without Measure, and without Intermission. And, What Design can the Almighty have upon us, who is in himself full, safe, and inviolable? If he should Give only for his own Sake, What would become of Poor Mortals, that have nothing to return him at best, but Dutiful Acknowledgements? 'Tis putting out of a Benefit to Interest, only to Bestow where we may place it to Advantage.  
Let us be Liberal then, after the Example of our Great Creator; and Give to others, with the same Consideration that he gives to us. 
b The Epicureans deny a Providence, the Stoics assert it.  Epicurus his Answer will be to this, That God gives no Benefits at all, but turns his back upon the World; and, without any Concern for us, leaves Nature to take her Course: And, whether he does any thing himself, or nothing, he takes no notice however, either of the Good, or of the Ill that is done here below. If there were not an Ordering, and an overruling Providence; How comes it (say I, on the other side) that the Universality of Mankind should ever have so Unanimously agreed in the Madness of Worshipping a Power that can neither Hear, nor Help us? Some Blessings are freely given us; Others, upon our Prayers, are granted us; and every day brings forth Instances of great, and of Seasonable Mercies, There never was yet any Man so Insensible, as not to Feel, See, and Understand a Deity in the ordinary Methods of Nature; though many have been so obstinately Ungrateful, as not to confess it: Nor is any Man so wretched, as not to be a Partaker in that Divine Bounty. Some Benefits, 'tis true, may appear to be unequally divided. But, 'tis no small matter yet that we Possess in Common; and, which Nature has bestowed upon us in her very self. If God be not Bountiful, whence is it that we have all that we pretend to? that which we Give, and that which we Deny; that which we Lay up, and that which we Squander away? Those innumerable delights, for the Entertainment of our Eyes, our Ears, and our Understandings? Nay, that Copious Matter even for Luxury itself? For, care is taken, not only for our Necessities, but also for our Pleasures, and for the Gratifying of all our Senses, and Appetites. So many pleasant Groves, Fruitful, and Salutary Plants; so many fair Rivers, that serve us both for Recreation, Plenty, and Commerce; Vicissitudes of Seasons; Varieties of Food, by Nature made ready to our hands; all sorts of Curiosities and of Creatures; and the whole Creation itself Subjected to Mankind for Health, Medicine, and Dominion. We can be thankful to a Friend for a few Acres, or a little Money, and yet for the Freedom, and Command of the whole Earth, and for the great Benefits of our Being, as Life, Health, and Reason, we look upon ourselves as under no Obligation. If a Man bestows upon us a House, that is delicately beautified with Paintings, Statues, Gildings, and Marble, we make a mighty business of it, and yet it lies at the Mercy of a Puff of Wind, the Snuff of a Candle, and a hundred other Accidents to lay it in the dust. And, Is it nothing now to sleep under the Canopy of Heaven, where we have the Globe of the Earth for our place of Repose, and the Glories of the Heavens for our Spectacle? How comes it that we should so much value what we have, and yet at the same time be so unthankful for it? Whence is it that we have our breath, the comforts of light, and of heat, the very blood that runs in our veins? The cattle that feed us, and the Fruits of the Earth that feed them? Whence have we the Growth of our Bodies, the Succession of our Ages, and the Faculties of our Minds? So many Veins of Mettles, Quarries of Marble, etc. The Seed of every thing is in itself, and it is the blessing of God that raises it out of the dark into Act, and Motion. To say nothing of the charming Varieties of Music; beautiful Objects, Delicious Provisions for the Palate; Exquisite Perfumes which are Cast in over and above to the common Necessities of our Being.  
ALL this, says Epicurus, we are to ascribe to 
c God and Nature are one and the same Power.  Nature. And, Why not to God, I beseech ye? As if they were not both of them one and the same Power working in the whole, and in every part of it. Or, if you call him the Almighty jupiter; the Thunderer, the Creator, and Preserver of us all; it comes to the same Issue: Some will express him under the Notion of Fate; which is only a Connexion of Causes, and himself the Uppermost, and Original, upon which all the rest depend. The Stoics represent the several Functions of the Almighty Power under several Appellations. When they speak of him as the Father, and the Fountain of all Being's, they call him Bacchus: and, under the Name of Hercules, they denote him to be Indefatigable, and Invincible: And, in the Contemplation of him in the Reason, Order, Proportion, and Wisdom of his Proceedings, they call him Mercury: So that which way soever they look, and under what Name soever they Couch their Meaning, they never fail of finding him: for he is every where, and fills his own Work. If a Man should borrow Money of Seneca, and say that he owes it to Anneus, or Lucius, he may change the Name, but not his Creditor; for, let him take which of the three Name●… he pleases, he is still a Debtor to the same Person. As Justice, Integrity, Prudence, Frugality, Fortitude, are all of them the Goods of one and the same Mind, so that whichsoever of them pleases us, we cannot distinctly say, That it is This, or That, but the Mind.  
BUT, not to carry this Digression too far, that which God himself does, we are sure is well done; and, we are no less sure, that 
d The Divine Bounty expects no Return.  for whatsoever he gives, he neither Wants, Expects, nor Receives any thing in Return: So that the only end of a Benefit ought to be the Advantage of the Receiver; And that must be our scope without any By-regard to ourselves. It is objected to us, the singular caution we prescribe in the Choice of the Person, for, it were a Madness, we say, for a Husbandman to Sow the Sand: Which, if true, say they, you have an eye upon Profit, as well in Giving, as in Ploughing, and Sowing. And then they say again, That, if the conferring of a Benefit were desirable in itself, it would have no dependence upon the choice of the Man, for, let us give it When, How, or Wheresoever we please, it would be still a Benefit. This does not at all affect our Assertion: for the Person, the Matter, the Manner, and the Time, are Circumstances absolutely necessary to the Reason of the Action; there must be a right Judgement in all respects to make it a Benefit. It is my duty, to be true to a Trust, and yet there may be a time, or a place, wherein I would make little difference betwixt the Renouncing of it, and the Delivering of it up, and, the same Rule holds in Benefits; I will neither render the One, nor bestow the Other to the Damage of the Receiver. A wicked Man will run all risks to do an Injury; and to compass his Revenge; and, Shall not an Honest Man venture as far to do a Good Office? All Benefits must be Gratuitous; A Merchant sells me the Corn, that keeps me and my Family from starving; but, he sold it for his Interest, as well as I bought it for mine, and so I owe him nothing for't. He that Gives for Profit, Gives to Himself, as a Physician, or a Lawyer gives Counsel for a Fee, and only makes use of me for his own Ends; as a Grazier fat's his cattle, to bring them to a better Market. This is more properly the driving of a Trade, than the Cultivating of a generous Commerce. This for That, is rather a Truck than a Benefit; and he deserves to be Cozened, that Gives any thing in hope of a Return. And, in truth, What End should a Man honourably propound? Not Profit sure; That's Vulgar, and Mechanic, and he that does not Contemn it, can never be Grateful. And then for Glory, 'tis a mighty matter indeed for a Man to boast of doing his Duty. We are to Give, if it were only to avoid not Giving; If any thing comes on't, 'tis Clear Gain; and, at worst, there's nothing left; beside, that one Benefit well placed, makes amends for a Thousand Miscarriages. It is not that I would exclude the Benefactor neither, for being himself the better for a good Office he does for another. Some there are that do us good only for their own sakes; Others, for Ours; and some again for both. He that does it for me in Common with himself, if he had a prospect upon Both in the doing of it, I am obliged to him for it; and glad with all my heart that he had a share in't. Nay, I were ungrateful, and unjust, if I should not rejoice, that what was Beneficial to me, might be so likewise to himself.  
TO pass now to the Matter of Gratitude, and 
e All Men detest Ingratitude, and love the contrary.  Ingratitude; there never was any Man yet so wicked, as not to approve of the One, and detest the Other; as the two things in the whole World, the one to be the most Abominated, the other the most Esteemed. The very Story of an Ungrateful Action puts us out of all Patience, and gives us a loathing for the Author of it. That Inhuman Villain, we cry, to do so horrid a thing: Not that Inconsiderate Fool, for omitting so profitable a Virtue, which plainly shows the sense we naturally have, both of the One, and of the Other, and that we are led to't by a Common Impulse of Reason, and of Conscience. Epicurus Fancies God to be without Power, and without Arms; above fear himself, and as little to be feared. He places him betwixt the Orbs Solitary, and Idle, out of the Reach of Mortals, and neither hearing our Prayers, nor minding our Concerns; and allows him only such a veneration, and respect, as we pay to our Parents. If a Man should ask him now, Why any Reverence at all, if we have no Obligation to him? Or rather, Why that greater Reverence to his fortuitous Atoms? His Answer would be, that it is for their Majesty, and their Admirable Nature, and not out of any hope, or Expectation from them. So that by his proper Confession, a thing may be desirable for its own worth. But, says he, Gratitude is a Virtue that has commonly profit annexed to it. And, Where's the Virtue, say I, that has not? but still the virtue is to be valued for itself, and not for the Profit that attends it; There is no Question, but Gratitude for Benefits received, is the ready way to procure more; and, in requiting one Friend, we encourage many; but, these Accessions fall in by the By, and, if I were sure that the doing of good Offices would be my Ruin, I would yet pursue them. He that Visits the Sick, in hope of a Legacy, let him be never so Friendly in all other Cases, I look upon him in this to be no better than a Raven, that watches a weak Sheep, only to peck the Eyes Out. We never Give with so much Judgement, or Care, as when we consider the Honesty of the Action, without any regard to the Profit of it; for, our Understandings are Corrupted by Fear, Hope, and Pleasure.   

CHAP. XIII. There are many Cases wherein a Man may be Minded of a Benefit, but it is very rarely to be Challenged, and never to be Upbraided.  
IF the World were as Wise, and as Honest as it should be, there would be no need of Caution or Precept, how to behave ourselves in our several Stations, and Duties; For, both the Giver and the Receiver would do what they ought to do of their own accord: The one would be Bountiful, and the other Grateful; and, the only way of minding a Man of one good turn, would be the following of it with another. But, as the Case stands, we must take other Measures, and consult the best we can, the Common Ease, and Relief of Mankind.  
As there are several sorts of 
a Divers sorts of Ingratitude.  Ungrateful Men, so there must be several ways of dealing with them: either by Artifice, Counsel, Admonition, or Reproof, according to the humour of the Person, and the degree of the Offence; Provided always, that as well in the Re-minding a Man of a Benefit, as in the Bestowing of it, the Good of the Receiver be the principal thing intended. There is a Curable Ingratitude, and an Incurable: there is a Slothful, a Neglectful, a Proud, a Dissembling, a Disclaiming, a Heedless, a Forgetful, and a Malicious Ingratitude; and, the Application must be suited to the Matter we have to Work upon. A gentle Nature may be reclaimed by Authority, Advice, or Reprehension; A Father, a Husband, a Friend, may do good in the Case. There are a sort of Lazy, and Sluggish People, that live as if they were asleep, and must be Lugged and Pinched to awaken them. These Men are betwixt Grateful, and Ungrateful; they will neither deny an Obligation, nor return it, and only want quickening. I will do all I can to hinder any Man from ill doing; but especially a Friend, and yet more especially from doing ill to me. I will rub up his Memory with new Benefits: if that will not serve, I'll proceed to good Counsel, and from thence to Rebuke: If all fails, I'll look upon him as a desperate Debtor, and even let him alone in his Ingratitude, without making him my Enemy: for, no Necessity shall ever make me spend time, in wrangling with any Man upon that point.  

b Perseverance in Obliging.  ASSIDUITY of Obliging Strikes upon the Conscience, as well as the Memory, and pursues an Ungrateful Man, till he becomes Grateful. If one good Office will not do't, try a Second, and then a Third. No Man can be so thankless, but either Shame, Occasion, or Example, will, at some time or other, prevail upon him. The very Beasts themselves, even Lions, and Tigers, are gained by good usage: beside, that one Obligation does naturally draw on another; and a Man would not willingly leave his own Work imperfect. I have helped him thus far, and I'll even go through with it now. So that over and above the delight, and the virtue of Obliging, one good turn is a Shooing-horn to another. This, of all Hints, is perhaps the most effectual, as well as the most Generous.  
IN some 
c In some cases a Man may be minded of a Benefit.  Cases it must be carried more home; as in that of julius Caesar, who, as he was hearing of a Cause, the Defendant finding himself pinched. Sir, says he, Do not you remember a Strain you got in your Ankle, when you Commanded in Spain; and that a Soldier lent you his Cloak for a Cushion, upon the top of a Craggy Rock, under the shade of a little Tree, in the heat of the day? I remember it perfectly well, says Caesar, and that when I was ready to choke with Thirst, an honest Fellow fetched me a draught of Water in his Helmet. But, that Man, and that Helmet (says the Soldier) Does Caesar think that he could now know them again if he saw them? The Man perchance I might (says Caesar, somewhat offended) but not the Helmet; but, What's this Story to my Business? You are none of the Man: Pardon me, Sir, says the Soldier, I am that very Man; but Caesar may well forget me, for I have been Trepanned since, and lost an Eye at the Battle of Munda, where that Helmet too had the honour to be cleft with a Spanish Blade. Caesar took it as it was intended; and, it was an Honourable, and a Prudent way of refreshing his Memory. But, this would not have gone down so well with Tiberius; for, when an Old Acquaintance of his began his Address to him, with You Remember Caesar. No, says Caesar, (cutting him short) I do not Remember what I WAS. Now, with him, it was better to be Forgotten, then Remembered: for, an Old Friend was as bad as an Informer. It is a Common thing for Men to hate the Authors of their Preferment, as the Witnesses of their Mean Original.  
THERE are some People well enough disposed to be 
d Some People would be Grateful if they had a Prompter.  Grateful, but they cannot hit upon't without a Prompter: they are a little like Schoolboys, that have Treacherous Memories; 'tis but helping them here and there with a word, when they stick, and they'll go through with their Lesson; they must be taught to be Thankful, and, 'tis a fair step, if we can but bring them to be willing, and only offer at it. Some Benefits we have neglected; some we are not willing to remember. He is is Ungrateful that Disownes an Obligation; and so is he that Dissembles it, or, to his Power, does not Requite it; but, the worst of all is, he that forgets it. Conscience, or Occasion may revive the rest, but here, the very Memory of it is lost. Those Eyes that cannot endure the light are weak, but those are stark blind that cannot see it. I do not love to hear People say, Alas! poor Man, he has forgotten it: As if that were the Excuse of Ingratitude, which is the very cause of it: For, if he were not Ungrateful, he would not be Forgetful, and lay that out of the way which should be always uppermost, and in sight. He that thinks, as he ought to do, of requiting a Benefit, is in no danger of forgetting it. There are indeed some Benefits so great, that they can never slip the Memory; but, those which are less in value, and more in number, do commonly scape us. We are apt enough to acknowledge, That, such a Man has been the Making of us; so long as we are in possession of the advantage he has brought us; but, new Appetites deface old Kindnesses, and we carry our Prospect forward to something more, without considering what we have obtained already. All that is past we give for lost; so that we are only intent upon the future. When a Benefit is once out of Sight, or out of Use, 'tis buried.  
IT is the Freak of many people, they cannot do a good Office, but they are presently 
e There must be no upbraiding of Benefits.  boasting of it, Drunk or Sober; and about it goes into all Companies, what wonderful things they have done for this Man, and what for tother. A foolish, and a dangerous vanity, of a doubtful Friend, to make a certain Enemy. For, these Reproaches, and Contempts, will set every Body's Tongue a Walking; and People will conclude, that these things would never be, if there were not something very extraordinary in the Bottom on't. When it comes to that once, there is not any Calumny but fastens more, or less; nor any falsehood so incredible, but in some part or other of it, shall pass for a Truth. Our great Mistake is this, we are still inclined to make the most of what we Give, and the least of what we Receive; whereas we should do the clean contrary. It might have been more, but he had a great many to oblige. It was as much as he could well spare; he'll make it up some other time, etc. Nay, we should be so far from making publication of our Bounties, as not to hear them so much as mentioned, without sweetening the matter; As, Alas! I owe him a great deal more than that comes to. If it were in my Power to serve him, I should be very glad on't. And, this too, not with the Figure of a Compliment, but with all Humanity, and Truth. There was a Man of Quality, that, in the Triumviral Proscription was saved by one of Caesar's Friends, who would be still twitting him with it, who it was that preserved him, and telling him over and over, You had gone to Pot, Friend, but for me. pray, says the Proscribed, let me hear no more of this, or even leave me as you found me: I am thankful enough of myself to acknowledge, That I owe you my life; but, 'tis Death to have it rung in my Ears perpetually as a Reproach: It looks as if you had only saved me, to carry me about for a spectacle. I would fain forget the Misfortune that I was once a Prisoner, without being led in Triumph every day of my Life.  
OH! 
f Some Bounties are bestowed with Insolence.  the Pride, and Folly of a great Fortune, that turns Benefits into Injuries! That delights in Excesses, and disgraces every thing it does. Who would receive any thing from it upon these terms? The higher it raises us, the more sordid it makes us. Whatsoever it Gives, it Corrupts. What is there in it that should thus puff us up? By what Magic is it that we are so transformed, that we do no longer know ourselves? Is it Impossible for greatness to be liberal without Insolence? The Benefits that we receive from our Superiors are then welcome, when they come with an Open Hand, and a clear Brow: Without either contumely, or State: and so as to prevent our Necessities. The Benefit is never the greater for the making of a bustle, and a noise about it; but, the Benefactor is much the less for the Ostentation of his good deeds; which makes that Odious to us, which would be otherwise Delightful. Tiberius had gotten a Trick, when any Man had begged Money of him, to refer him to the Senate, where all the Petitioners were to deliver up the Names of their Creditors. His End perhaps was, to deter Men from Ask, by exposing the Condition of their Fortunes to an Examination. But, it was however a Benefit, turned into a Reprehension; and, he made a Reproach of a Bounty.  
BUT, 
g In what Case a Man may be reminded of a Benefit.  'tis not enough yet to forbear the Casting of a Benefit in a Man's Teeth; for, there are some, that will not allow it to be so much as challenged. For, an Ill Man, say they, will not make a Return, though it be demanded, and a Good Man will do it of himself. And then the Ask of it seems to turn it into a Debt: It is a kind of Injury to be too quick with the former; for, to call upon him too soon, reproaches him, as if he would not have done it otherwise. Nor would I Recall a Benefit from any Man, so as to force it; but, only to receive it. If I let him quite alone, I make myself guilty of his Ingratitude; and undo him for want of Plaindealing. A Father Reclaims a Disobedient Son. A Wife Reclaims a Dissolute Husband; and one Friend excites the languishing Kindness of another: How many Men are lost for want of being touched to the quick? So long as I am not pressed, I will rather desire a Favour, than so much as mention a Requital; but, if my Country, my Family, or my Liberty be at Stake, my Zeal and Indignation shall overrule my Modesty, and the World shall then understand, that I have done all I could not to stand in need of an Ungrateful Man. And, in conclusion, the Necessity of receiving a Benefit shall overcome the shame of Recalling it. Nor is it only allowable upon some Exigents, to put the Receiver in Mind of a Good Turn, but it is many times for the Common Advantage of both Parties.   

CHAP. XIV. How far to Oblige, or Requite a Wicked Man.  
THERE are some Benefits, whereof a Wicked Man is wholly Incapable: of which, hereafter. There are others, which are Bestowed upon him, not for his own sake, but for Secondary Reasons; and, of these, we have spoken, in part, already. There are moreover certain Common Offices of Humanity, which are only allowed him as he is a Man, and without any regard, either to Vice, or Virtue. To pass over the First Point: the Second must be handled with Care, and Distinction, and not without some seeming Exceptions to the General Rule: As first, Here's no Choice, or Intention in the Case, but, 'tis a good Office done him for some By-Interest, or by Chance. Secondly, There's no judgement in it neither, for 'tis to a Wicked Man. But, to shorten the Matter; without these Circumstances it is not properly a Benefit; or, at least, not to him: for, it looks another way. I rescue a Friend from Thiefs, and the other 'scapes for Company. I Discharge a Debt for a Friend, and the other comes off too, for they were both in a Bond. The Third is of a great Latitude, and varies, according to the degree of Generosity on the one side, and of Wickedness on the other. Some Benefactors will Supererogate, and do more than they are bound to do: And, some Men are so lewd, that 'tis dangerous to do them any sort of Good; no not so much as by way of Return, or Requital.  

a How to oblige an Ungrateful Man.  IF the Benefactors Bounty must extend to the Bad, as well as to the Good; Put the Case that I promise a good Office to an Ungrateful Man; We are first to distinguish (as is said before) betwixt a Common Benefit, and a Personal; betwixt what is given for Merit, and what for Company. Secondly, Whether or no we know the Person to be Ungrateful, and can reasonably conclude, that his Vice is Incurable. Thirdly, A Consideration must be had of the Promise, how far that may oblige us. The two first Points are cleared both in one: We cannot justify any particular Kindness for one that we conclude to be a hopelessly wicked Man: So that the force of the Promise is the single Point in Question. In the Promise of a good Office to a Wicked or Ungrateful Man, I am to blame if I did it knowingly; and, I am to blame nevertheless, if I did it otherwise: but, I must yet make it good (under due Qualifications) because I promised it: that is to say, Matters continuing in the same State, for no Man is answerable for Accidents. I'll Sup at such a Place, though it be cold; I'll rise at such an hour, though I be sleepy; but, if it prove tempestuous, or that I fall sick of a Fever, I'll neither do the one, nor the other. I promise to second a Friend in a Quarrel, or to plead his Cause; and, when I come into the Field, or into the Court, it proves to be against my Father, or my Brother: I promise to go a Journey with him; but, there's no Travelling upon the Road for Robbing; my Child is fallen sick; or my Wife in Labour: These Circumstances are sufficient to discharge me; for, a Promise against Law, or Duty, is void in its own Nature. The Counsels of a Wise Man are Certain; but Events are uncertain. And yet if I have passed a rash Promise, I will in some degree punish the Temerity of making it, with the damage of keeping it. Unless it turn very much to my shame, or detriment; and then I'll be my own Confessor in the Point, and rather be once guilty of Denying, than always of Giving. It is not with a Benefit as with a Debt; It is one thing to trust an ill Paymaster, and another thing to oblige an unworthy Person: The one is an ill Man, and the other only an ill Husband.  
THERE was a Valiant Fellow in the Army, that Philip of Macedon took particular Notice of; and he gave him several considerable Marks of the Kindness he had for him. This Soldier puts to Sea, and was cast away upon a Coast, where a Charitable Neighbour took him up half dead; carried him to his House, and there at his own Charge maintained, and provided for him Thirty days, till he was perfectly recovered: and, after all, furnished him over and above with a Viaticum at parting. The Soldier told him the mighty matters that he would do for him in Return, so soon as he should have the honour once again to see his Master. To Court he goes, tells Philip of the Wreck, but not a Syllable of his Preserver, and begs the Estate of this very Man that kept him alive. It was with Philip, as with many other Princes, that give they know not what, especially in a time of War. He granted the Soldier his Request, contemplating at the same time the Impossibility of satisfying so many revenous Appetites as he had to please. When the good Man came to be turned out of all, he was not so Mealy-mouthed as to thank his Majesty for not giving away his Person too, as well as his Fortune; but, in a Bold, Frank Letter to Philip, made a just report of the whole Story. The King was so Incensed at the Abuse, that he immediately commanded the Right Owner to be restored to his Estate, and the Unthankful Guest and Soldier to be Stigmatised for an Example to others. Should Philip now have kept this Promise? First, he owed the Soldier nothing. Secondly; It would have been Injurious, and Impious, and lastly, a Precedent of dangerous Consequence to Humane Society. For, it would have been little less than an Interdiction of Fire and Water to the miserable, to have inflicted such a Penalty upon Relieving them. So that there must be always some tacit Exception, or Reserve: If I can, If I may; or, if matters continue as they were.  

b The Case of an Obligation from one that afterwards betrays his Country.  IF it should be my Fortune to receive a Benefit from one, that afterwards Betrays his Country, I should still reckon myself obliged to him for such a Requital as might stand with my public duty. I would not furnish him with Arms, nor with Money, or Credit, to Levy or Pay Soldiers; but, I should not stick to Gratify him at my own expense, with such Curiosities as might please him one way, without doing mischief another; I would not do any thing that might contribute to the Support, or Advantage of his Party. But, What should I do now in the Case of a Benefactor, that should afterwards become, not only mine, and my Country's Enemy, but the Common Enemy of Mankind? I would here distinguish betwixt the Wickedness of a Man, and the Cruelty of a Beast: betwixt a limited, or a particular Passion, and a Sanguinary Rage, that extends to the hazard, and destruction of Humane Society. In the former Case I would quit Scores, that I might have no more to do with him; but, if he comes once to a delight in Blood, and to act Outrages with greediness: to study, and invent Torments, and to take pleasure in them, the Law of Reasonable Nature has discharged me of such a Debt. But, this is an Impiety so rare, that it might pass for a Portent, and be reckoned among Comets, and Monsters. Let us therefore restrain our Discourse to such Men as we detest without horror; such Men as we see every day in Courts, Camps, and upon the Seats of Justice: to such Wicked Men I will Return what I have Received, without making any Advantage of their Unrighteousness.  

c Providence is gracious even to the Wicked.  IT does not divert the Almighty from being still Gracious, though we proceed daily in the abuse of his Bounties. How many are there that enjoy the Comfort of the Light, that do not deserve it, that wish they had never been born; and yet Nature goes quietly on with her Work; and allows them a Being, even in despite of their unthankfulness. Such a Knave, we cry, was better used than I. And, the same Complaint we extend to Providence itself. How many Wicked Men have good Crops, when better than themselves have their Fruits blasted? Such a Man, we say, has treated me very ill. Why what should we do, but that very thing which is done by God himself? That is to say; Give to the Ignorant, and Persevere to the Wicked. All our Ingratitude, we see, does not turn Providence from Pouring down of Benefits, even upon those that question whence they come. The Wisdom of Heaven does all things with a regard to the Good of the Universe, and the Blessings of Nature are granted in Common, to the Worst, as well as to the Best of Men; for, they live promiscuously together; and, it is God's Will, that the Wicked shall rather far the better for the Good, than that the Good shall far the worse for the Wicked: 'Tis true, that a Wise Prince will confer peculiar Honours only upon the Worthy; but, in the dealing of a public Dole, there's no Respect had to the Manners of the Man, but a Thief, or a Traitor, shall put in for a share as well as an Honest Man. If a Good Man, and a Wicked, sail both in the same bottom, it is impossible that the same Wind, which favours the one, should cross the other. The Common Benefits of Laws, Privileges, Communities, Letters, and Medicines, are permitted to the Bad, as well as to the Good, and no Man ever yet Suppressed a Sovereign Remedy, for fear a Wicked Man might be cured with it. Cities are built for both sorts, and the same Remedy works upon both alike. In these Cases we are to set an Estimate upon the Persons, there's a great difference betwixt the Choosing of a Man, and the not Excluding him; The Law is open to the Rebellious, as well as to the Obedient: There are some Benefits, which, if they were not allowed to all, could not be enjoyed by any. The Sun was never made for me, but for the Comfort of the World, and for the Providential Order of the Seasons; and yet I am not without my Private Obligation also. To conclude, he that will not Oblige the Wicked, and the Ungrateful, must resolve to Oblige no body; for, in some sort or other, we are all of us Wicked, we are all of us Ungrateful, every Man of us.  
WE have been Discoursing all this while, how far a Wicked 
d A Wicked Man is Incapable of a Benefit.  Man may be Obliged, and the Stoics tell us, at last, that he cannot be Obliged at all: For, they make him Incapable of any Good, and consequently of any Benefit. But, he has this Advantage, that if he cannot be Obliged, he cannot be Ungrateful: for, if he cannot receive, he is not bound to a Return. On the other side, a Good Man, and an Ungrateful are a Contradiction: So that at this rate there's no such thing as Ingratitude in Nature. They compare a Wicked Man's Mind to a Vitiated Stomach; he Corrupts whatever he Receives, and the best Nourishment turns to the Disease. But, taking this for granted, a Wicked Man may yet be so far Obliged as to pass for Ungrateful, if he does not Requite what he Receives. For, though it be not a perfect Benefit, yet he Receives something like it. There are goods of the Mind, the Body, and of Fortune. Of the first sort Fools, and Wicked Men, are wholly Incapable; to the rest they may be admitted. But, Why should I call any Man Ungrateful, you'll say, for not Restoring That which I deny to be a Benefit? I answer, That if the Receiver take it for a Benefit, and fails of a Return, 'tis an Ingratitude in him; for, that which goes for an Obligation among wicked Men, is an Obligation upon them: and, they may pay one another in their own Quoin; the Money is Current, whether it be Gold, or Leather, when it comes once to be Authorised. Nay, Cleanthes carries it farther; He that is wanting, says he, to a kind Office, though it be no Benefit, would have done the same thing if it had been one; and, is as guilty, as a Thief is, that has set his Booty; and, if already Armed, and Mounted, with a purpose to seize it, though he has not yet drawn Blood. Wickedness is formed in the heart; and, the Matter of Fact is only the Discovery, and the Execution of it. Now, though a wicked Man cannot either Receive, or Bestow a Benefit, because he wants the Will of doing good, and for that he is no longer wicked, when Virtue has taken possession of him; yet we commonly call it one, as we call a Man Illiterate that is not Learned, and Naked, that is not well clad; not but that the one can Read, and the other is Covered.   

CHAP. XV. A General View of the Parts, and Duties of the Benefactor.  
THE three main Points in the Question of Benefits, are, First, A judicious Choice in the Object; Secondly, in the Matter of our Benevolence; And, Thirdly, a Gracious Felicity in the Manner of expressing it. But, there are also incumbent upon the Benefactor other Considerations, which will deserve a Place in this Discourse.  
IT is not enough to do one Good Turn, and to do it with a Good Grace too, unless we follow it with more; and without either 
a Obligations must be followed, without Upbraiding, or Repining.  Upbraiding, or Repining. It is a Common shift, to charge that upon the Ingratitude of the Receiver, which, in truth, is most commonly the Levity, and Indiscretion of the Giver; for, all Circumstances must be duly weighed, to Consummate the Action. Some there are that we find Ungrateful; but, what with our Frowardness, Change of Humour, and Reproaches, there are more that we make so. And, this is the Business: We Give with Design, and, Most to those that are able to give Most again. We Give to the Covetous, and to the Ambitious; to those that can never be thankful; (for their desires are Insatiable) and to those that will not. He that is a Tribune, would be a Praetor; the Praetor a Consul; never reflecting upon what he was, but only looking forward to what he would be. People are still Computing, Must I lose this, or that Benefit? if it be lost, the fault lies in the ill bestowing of it; for, rightly placed, it is as good as Consecrated; if we be deceived in another, let us not be deceived in ourselves too. A Charitable Man will mend the Matter; and say to himself, perhaps he has forgot it; perchance he could not; perhaps he will yet Requite it. A Patient Creditor will, of an ill Paymaster, in time, make a good Creditor; an Obstinate Goodness overcomes an ill disposition; as a Barren Soil is made Fruitful by Care and Tillage. But, let a Man be never so Ungrateful, or Inhuman; he shall never destroy the Satisfaction of my having done a good Office.  

b We must persevere in doing good.  BUT, What if others will be wicked? Does it follow that we must be so too? If others will be Ungrateful, Must we therefore be Inhuman? To Give, and to Lose, is Nothing; but; to Lose, and to Give still, is the Part of a great Mind. And the others, in effect, is the greater Loss; for, the one does but lose his Benefit, and the other loses himself. The Light shines upon the Profane, and Sacrilegious, as well as upon the Righteous. How many disappointments do we meet with in our Wives, and Children, and yet we couple still? He that has lost one Battle, hazards another. The Mariner puts to Sea again after a Wreck. An Illustrious Mind does not propose the Profit of a good Office, but the Duty. If the World be Wicked, we should yet persevere in Welldoing, even amongst Evil Men. I had rather never receive a Kindness, than never bestow one: not to Return a Benefit is the Greater Sin, but not to Confer it, is the Earlier. We cannot propose to ourselves a more glorious Example, than that of the Almighty; who neither needs, nor expects any thing from us; and yet he is continually showering down, and distributing his Mercies and his Graces among us; not only for our Necessities, but also for our Delights: as Fruits, and Seasons; Rain, and Sunshine; Veins of Water, and of Metal; and all this to the Wicked, as well as to the Good; and without any other End than the common Benefit of the Receivers. With what Face then can we be Mercenary one to another, that have received all things from Divine Providence gratis? 'Tis a common saying, I gave such, or such a Man so much Money, I would I had thrown it into the Sea. And yet the Merchant Trades again after a Piracy; and the Banker ventures afresh after a bad Security. He that will do no good Offices after a disappointment, must stand still, and do just nothing at all. The Blow goes on after a Barren Year; and, while the Ashes are yet warm, we raise a new house upon the Ruins of a former. What Obligations can be greater than those, which Children receive from their Parents? And yet, should we give them over in their Infancy, it were all to no purpose: Benefits, like Grain, must be followed from the Seed to the Harvest. I will not so much as leave any place for Ingratitude. I will pursue, and I will encompass the Receiver with Benefits; so that let him look which way he will, his Benefactor shall be still in his Eye, even when he would avoid his own Memory. And then I will remit to one Man, because he calls for't; to another, because he does not; to a third, because he is Wicked; and, to a fourth, because he is the Contrary. I'll cast away a Good Turn upon a Bad Man, and I'll requite a Good one. The one, because it is my Duty; and the other, that I may not be in his Debt. I do not love to hear any Man complain, That he has met with a Thankless Man. If he has met but with one, he has either been very Fortunate, or very Careful. And yet Care is not sufficient. For, there is no way to scape the hazard of losing a Benefit, but the not bestowing of it; and, to neglect a Duty to myself, for fear another should abuse it. It is an others fault, if he be Ungrateful, but it is Mine if I do not Give. To find one Thankful Man, I will oblige a great many that are not so. The Business of Mankind would be at a stand, if we should do nothing for fear of Miscarriages in matters of Uncertain Event. I will try, and believe all things, before I give any Man over, and do all that is possible that I may not lose a Good Office, and a Friend together. What do I know, but he may misunderstand the Obligation? Business may have put it out of his head, or taken him off from't: He may have slipped his Opportunity: I will say, in Excuse of Humane Weakness, That one Man's Memory is not sufficient for all things; It is but of a limited Capacity, so as to hold only so much, and no more; and when it is once full, it must let out part of what it had, to take in any thing beside; and, the last Benefit ever sits closest to us. In our Youth, we forget the Obligations of our Infancy, and when we are Men, we forget those of our Youth. If nothing will prevail, let him keep what he has and welcome; but, let him have a care of Returning evil for good, and making it dangerous for a Man to do his duty. I would no more Give a Benefit to such a Man, than I would lend Money to a Beggarly Spendthrift; or deposit any in the hands of a known Knight of the Post. However the Case stands, an Ungrateful Person is never the better for a Reproach; if he be already hardened in his Wickedness, he gives no heed to't; and, if he be not, it turns a doubtful Modesty, into an incorrigible Impudence: Beside that, he watches for ill Words, to pick a quarrel with them.  

c There should be no delay in the doing of a Benefit.  As the Benefactor is not to upbraid a Benefit, so neither to delay it: The one is tiresome, and the other odious. We must not hold Men in hand, as Physicians, and Surgeons do their Patients, and keep them longer in fear, and pain, than needs, only to magnify the Cure. A Generous Man gives easily; and Receives as he Gives, but never Exacts. He rejoices in the Return, and Judges favourably of it whatever it be, and Contents himself with a bare thank for a Requital. 'Tis a harder Matter with some to get the Benefit, after 'tis promised, than the first promise of it; there must be so many Friends made in the Case. One must be desired to solicit another; and he must be entreated to move a Third, and a Fourth must be at last besought to receive it; so that the Author, upon the upshot, has the least share in the Obligation. It is then welcome when it comes free, and without deduction; and no Man either to Intercept, to Hinder, or to Detain it. And, let it be of such a Quality too, that it be not only delightful in the Receiving, but, after it is Received: which it will certainly be, if we do but observe this Rule, never to do any thing for another, which we could not honestly desire for ourselves.   

CHAP. XVI. How the Receiver ought to behave himself.  
THERE are certain Rules, in Common, betwixt the Giver, and the Receiver: We must do both cheerfully, that the Giver may Receive the Fruit of his Benefit in the very act of bestowing it. It is a just ground of Satisfaction, to see a Friend pleased; but, it is much more, to make him so. The Intention of the One is to be suited to the Intention of the other; and, there must be an Emulation betwixt them, whether shall Oblige most. Let the one say, That he has Received a Benefit, and let the other persuade himself, That he has not Returned it. Let the One say, I am paid; and the other, I am yet in your Debt; let the Benefactor acquit the Receiver, and the Receiver bind himself: The frankness of the discharge heightens the Obligation. It is in Conversation, as in a Tennis-Court: Benefits are to be tossed like Balls; the longer the Rest, the better are the Gamesters. The Giver, in some respect, has the Odds, because (as in a Race) he starts first, and the other must use great diligence to overtake him. The Return must be Larger than the first Obligation, to come up to't; and, it is a Kind of Ingratitude, not to render it with Interest. In a Matter of Money, 'Tis a common thing to pay a Debt out of Course, and before it be due; but we account ourselves to owe nothing for a Good Office; whereas the Benefit increases by delay. So Insensible are we of the most Important affair of Humane Life. That Man were doubtless in a Miserable Condition, that could neither see, nor hear, nor taste, nor feel, nor smell: but, How much more unhappy is he then, that wanting a Sense of Benefits, loses the greatest Comfort in Nature, in the Bliss of Giving, and Receiving them? He that takes a Benefit as it is meant, is in the right; for, the Benefactor has then his end, and his only end, when the Receiver is Grateful.  
THE more glorious part, in appearance, is that of the Giver; but, 
a The Receiver has the harder Game to Play.  the Receiver has undoubtedly the harder Game to play, in many regards. There are some from whom I would not accept of a Benefit; that is to say, from those upon whom I would not bestow one. For, Why should not I scorn to receive a Benefit, where I am ashamed to owe it? And, I would yet be more tender too, where I Receive, than where I Give; for, 'tis a torment to be in Debt, where a Man has no mind to pay; as it is the greatest delight imaginable to be engaged by a Friend, whom I should yet have a Kindness for, if I were never so much disobliged. It is a pain to an honest, and a generous Mind, to lie under a duty of affection against Inclination. I do not speak here of Wise Men, that love to do what they ought to do; that have their Passions at Command; that prescribe Laws to themselves, and keep them when they have done; but, of Men, in a State of Imperfection, that may have a good will perhaps to be honest, and yet be overborn by the Contumacy of their Affections. We must therefore have a Care to whom we become Obliged: and, I would be much stricter yet in the Choice of a Creditor for Benefits, than for Mony. In the one Case, 'tis but paying what I had, and the Debt is discharged: In the other, I do not only owe more, but when I have paid that, I am still in Arriere: And, this Law is the very foundation of Friendship. I will suppose myself a Prisoner; and a notorious Villain offers to lay down a Sum of Money for my Redemption. First, Shall I make use of this Money, or no? Secondly, If I do, What Return shall I make him for't? To the First Point, I will take it; but, only as a Debt, not as a Benefit, that shall ever tie me to a Friendship with him: And Secondly, my Acknowledgement shall be only correspondent to such an Obligation. It is a School-Question, Whether or no Brutus, that thought Caesar not fit to live (and put himself in the head of a Conspiracy against him) could honestly have Received his Life from Caesar, if he had fallen into Caesar's power, without examining what reason moved him to that Action? How great a Man soever he was in other Cases, without dispute he was extremely out in this, and below the dignity of his Profession. For a Stoic to fear the Name of a King, when yet Monarchy is the best State of Government; or there to hope for Liberty, where so great rewards were propounded, both for Tyrants, and their Slaves; For him to imagine, ever to bring the Laws to their former State, where so many thousand lives had been lost in the Contest, not so much whether they should serve or no, but who should be their Master: He was strangely mistaken sure in the Nature and Reason of things, to Fancy, that when julius was gone, some body else would not start up in his place, when there was yet a Tarquin found, after so many Kings that were destroyed, either by Sword or Thunder: And yet the Resolution is, That he might have Received it, but not as a Benefit; for, at that rate I owe my Life to every Man that does not take it away.  

b A Benefit refused for the Person.  GRAECINUS JULIUS, (whom Caligula put to death, out of a pure Malice to his Virtue) had a considerable sum of Money sent him from Fabius Persicus (a Man of Great and Infamous Example) as a Contribution toward the Expense of Plays, and other Public Entertainments; but julius would not receive it; and some of his Friends, that had an Eye more upon the Present, than the Presenter, asked him, with some freedom, What he meant by refusing it? Why (says he) Do you think that I'll take Money, where I would not take so much as a Glass of Wine? After this, Rebilus (a Man of the same stamp) sent him a greater Sum upon the same score. You must excuse me (says he to the Messenger) for I would not take any thing of Persicus neither.  
TO match this Scruple of Receiving Money, with another of Keeping it; and the Sum not above Three pence, or a Groat at most: 
c A Pythagorean Scruple.  There was a certain Pythagorean that Contracted with a Cobbler for a pair of Shoes, and some three or four days after, going to pay him his Money, the shop was shut up; and when he had knocked a great while at the door, Friend, (says a Fellow) you may hammer your heart out there, for the Man that you look for is dead. And when our Friends are dead, we hear no more News of them; but yours that are to live again, will shift well enough (alluding to Pythagoras his Transmigration.) Upon this the Philosopher went away, with his Money chinking in his hand, and well enough content to save it: at last his Conscience took check at it, and, upon Reflection, Though the Man be dead (says he) to Others, he is alive to Thee; pay him what thou owest him: and so he went back presently, and thrust it into his Shop through the Chink of the door. Whatever we owe, 'tis our part to find where to pay it; and to do it without ask too; for whether the Creditor be good, or bad, the Debt is still the same.  
IF a Benefit be forced upon me, as from a Tyrant, or a 
d A forced Benefit.  Superior, where it may be dangerous to refuse; this is rather Obeying than Receiving, where the necessity destroys the choice; the way to know what I have a Mind to do, is to leave me at liberty, whether I will do it or no; but, it is yet a Benefit, if a Man does me good in spite of my Teeth; as it is none, if I do any Man good against my Will. A Man may both hate, and yet Receive a Benefit at the same time; the Money is never the worse, because a Fool, that is not read in Quoines, refuses to take it. If the thing be good for the Receiver, and so intended, no matter how ill 'tis taken. Nay, the Receiver may be obliged, and not know it: But, there can be no Benefit, which is unknown to the Giver. Neither will I, upon any Terms, receive a Benefit from a Worthy Person that may do him a Mischief: It is the part of an Enemy, to save himself, by doing another Man harm.  

e Keep a Grateful Mind.  BUT, Whatever we do, let us be sure always to keep a Grateful Mind. It is not enough to say, What Requital shall a Poor Man offer to a Prince; or, a Slave to his Patron? When it is the glory of Gratitude, that it depends only upon the good will. Suppose a Man defends my Fame; delivers me from Beggary; saves my Life; or gives me Liberty, that is more than Life. How shnll I be grateful to that Man? I will receive, cherish, and rejoice in the Benefit. Take it kindly, and it is requited: not that the Debt itself is discaharged, but it is nevertheless a discharge of the Conscience. I will yet distinguish betwixt a Debtor, that becomes Insolvent by Expenses upon Whores, and Diee; and another that is undone by Fire, or Thiefs; Nor do I take this Gratitude for a payment; but, there is no danger, I presume, of being Arrested for such a Debt.  
IN the Return of Benefits, let us be ready, and cheerful, 
f We should be cheerful, but not Importune in the Returning of Benefits.  but not pressing. There is as much greatness of Mind in the Owing of a good Turn, as in the doing of it; and, we must no more force a requital out of season, than be wanting in it. He that precipitates a Return, does as good as say, I am weary of being in this Man's Debt; not but that the hastening of a Requital, as a good Office, is a Commendable Disposition; but, 'tis another thing, to do it as a discharge, for, it looks like casting off a heavy, and a troublesome burden. 'Tis for the Benefactor to say, when he will receive it; no matter for the Opinion of the World, so long as I gratify my own Conscience; for I cannot be mistaken in myself, but another may. He that is over-solicitous to return a Benefit, thinks the other so likewise to receive it. If he had rather we should keep it, Why should we refuse, and presume to dispose of his Treasure, who may call it in, or let it lie out, at his choice? 'Tis as much a fault, to receive what I ought not, as not to give what I ought: for, the Giver has the Privilege of Choosing his own time for receiving.  

g There must be no Pride, either in the conferring, or in the Receiving of Benefits.  SOME are too proud in the conferring of Benefits; others, in the Receiving of them, which is, to say the Truth, intolerable. The same Rule serves both sides, as in the Case of a Father, and a Son; a Husband, and a Wife; one Friend, or Acquaintance, and another, where the Duties are known and common. There are some that will not receive a Benefit, but in Private; nor thank you for't but in your Ear, or in a Corner; there must be nothing under Hand, and Seal, no Brokers, Notaries, or Witnesses in the Case: This is not so much a scruple of modesty, as a kind of denying the Obligation, and only a less hardened Ingratitude. Some receive Benefits so coldly, and indifferently, that a Man would think the Obligation lay on the other side, as who should say, Well, since you will needs have it so, I am content to take it. Some again, so carelessly, as if they hardly knew of any such thing; whereas we should rather aggravate the matter, You cannot Imagine, how many you have obliged in this Act: there never was so great, so kind, so seasonable a Courtesy. Furnius never gained so much upon Augustus, as by a Speech, upon the getting of his Father's Pardon for siding with Anthony. This Grace, says he, is the only Injury that ever Caesar did me; for it has put me upon a necessity of Living, and Dying Ungrateful. 'Tis safer to affront some people, than to oblige them; for, the better a Man deserves, the worse they'll speak of him: as if the professing of open hatred to their Benefactors, were an Argument, that they lie under no Obligation. Some people are so sour, and ill-natured, that they take it for an Affront to have an Obligation, or a Return offered them, to the discouragement both of Bounty, and of Gratitude together. The not doing, and the not receiving of Benefits, are equally a Mistake. He that refuses a new one, seems to be offended at an old one: and yet sometimes I would neither return a Benefit, no nor so much as receive it, if I might.   

CHAP. XVII. Of Gratitude.  
HE that Preaches Gratitude, pleads the Cause both of God and Man; for, without it, we can neither be Sociable, nor Religious. There is a strange delight in the very purpose, and Contemplation of it, as well as in the Action; when I can say to myself, I love my Benefactor; What is there in this World that I would not do, to oblige, and serve him? Where I have not the Means of a Requital, the very Meditation of it is sufficient. A Man is nevertheless an Artist, for not having his Tools about him; or a Musician, because he wants his Fiddle; Nor is he the less brave, because his hands are bound; or, the worse Pilot, for being upon dry Ground. If I have only a Will to be Grateful, I am so. Let me be upon the Wheel; or, under the hand of the Executioner; Let me be burnt Limb, by Limb, and my whole Body dropping in the Flames, a Good Conscience supports me in all Extremes: Nay, it is comfortable even in Death itself: For, when we come to approach that point, What care do we take to summon, and call to mind all our Benefactors, and the Good Offices they have done us, that we may leave the World fair, and set our Minds in Order. Without Gratitude, we can neither have Security, Peace, nor Reputation: And, it is not therefore the less desirable, because it draws many Adventitious Benefits along with it. Suppose the Sun, the Moon, and the Stars had no other Business, then only to pass over our heads, without any effect upon our Minds, or Bodies; without any regard to our Health, Fruits, or Seasons: a Man could hardly lift up his Eyes toward the Heavens without wonder, and veneration, to see so many Millions of Radiant Lights, and to observe their Courses, and Revolutions, even without any respect to the Common good of the Universe. But when we come to consider, that Providence, and Nature, are still at Work when we Sleep; with the admirable Force, and Operation of their Influences, and Motions, we cannot then but acknowledge their Ornament to be the least part of their value; and that they are more to be esteemed for their Virtue, than for their Splendour. Their main End, and Use, is matter of Life, and Necessity, though they may seem to us more considerable for their Majesty, and Beauty. And so it is with Gratitude; we love it rather for Secondary Ends, then for itself.  
NO Man can be Grateful without Contemning those 
a We must be grateful in despite of all Oppositions.  things that put the Common People out of their Wits. We must go into Banishment; Lay down our Lives; Beggar, and expose ourselves to Reproaches: Nay, it is often seen, that Loyalty suffers the Punishment due to Rebellion; and, that Treason receives the Rewards of Fidelity. As the Benefits of it are many, and great, so are the hazards, which is the Case, more or less, of all other Virtues: and it were hard, if this, above the rest, should be both painful, and fruitless: So that though we may go currently on with it in smooth way, we must yet prepare, and resolve, (if need be) to force our passage to't, even if the way were covered with Thorns, and Serpents; and, fall back, fall edge, we must be Grateful still. Grateful, for the Virtue sake, and Grateful over and above upon the point of Interest; for, it preserves old Friends, and gains new ones. It is not our business to fish for one Benefit with another; and by bestowing a little, to get more: or to oblige for any sort of Expedience, but because I ought to do it, and because I love it; and that to such a degree, that if I could not be Grateful, without appearing the contrary; if I could not return a Benefit without being suspected of doing an Injury; in despite of Infamy itself, I would yet be Grateful. No Man is greater in my esteem, than he that ventures the Fame, to preserve the Conscience of an honest Man; the one is but Imaginary, the other Solid, and Inestimable. I cannot call him Grateful, who, in the instant of returning one Benefit, has his Eye upon another. He that is Grateful for Profit, or Fear, is like a Woman that is honest, only upon the Score of Reputation.  

b Gratitude is an Obvious, a Cheap, and an easy Virtue.  AS Gratitude is a Necessary, and a Glorious, so is it also an Obvious, a Cheap, and an Easy Virtue: So Obvious, that wheresoever there is a Life, there is a place for it: So Cheap, that the Covetous Man may be Grateful without Expense; and so Easy, that the Sluggard may be so likewise, without Labour. And yet it is not without its Niceties too; for, there may be a Time, a Place, or Occasion, wherein I ought not to return a Benefit; Nay, wherein I may better disown it, than deliver it.  
LET it be understood, by 
c 'Tis one thing to be Grateful for a Benefit, and another thing to return it.  the way, that 'tis one thing to be Grateful for a good Office, and another thing to Return it: the Good Will is enough in one Case, being as much as the one side demands, and the other promises; but the Effect is requisite in the other. The Physician that has done his best, is acquitted, though the Patient dies; and so is the Advocate, though the Client may lose his Cause. The General of an Army, though the Battle be lost, is yet worthy of Commendation, if he has discharged all the parts of a prudent Commander; In this Case, the one acquits himself, though the other be never the better for't. He is a Grateful Man, that is always willing and ready; and he that seeks for all means, and occasions of requiting a Benefit, though without attaining his end, does a great deal more, than the Man, that without any trouble makes an immediate Return. Suppose my Friend a Prisoner, and that I have sold my Estate for his Ransom: I put to Sea in foul weather, and upon a Coast that's pestered with Pirates: my Friend happens to be Redeemed before I come to the place; my Gratitude is as much to be esteemed, as if he had been yet a Prisoner; and, if I had been taken, and robbed, myself, it would still have been the same Case. Nay, there is a Gratitude in the very Countenance; for an honest Man bears his Conscience in his Face, and propounds the requital of a Good turn in the very moment of receiving it: he is Cheerful, and Confident; and, in the possession of a true Friendship, delivered from all Anxiety. There is this difference betwixt a Thankful Man, and an Unthankful; the one is always pleased in the good he has done, and the other only once, in what he has received. There must be a Benignity in the Estimation even of the smallest Offices; and such a Modesty as appears to be obliged in whatsoever it gives: As it is indeed a very great Benefit, the opportunity of doing a good Office to a worthy Man; He that attends to the present, and remembers what's past, shall never be Ungrateful. But, Who shall judge in the Case? For a Man may be Grateful without making a Return, and Ungrateful with it. Our best way is to help every thing by a fair Interpretation; and wheresoever there is a doubt, to allow it the most favourable construction: for he that is exceptious at words, or looks, has a Mind to pick a Quarrel. For my own part, when I come to cast up my account, and know what I owe, and to whom, though I make my return sooner to some, and later to others, as occasion, or fortune will give me leave, yet I'll be just to all. I will be Grateful to God; to Man; to those that have Obliged me; nay, even to those that have obliged my Friends, I am bound in honour, and in Conscience, to be thankful for what I have received; and if I be not yet full, it is some pleasure still that I may hope for more. For the Requital of a Favour, there must be Virtue, Occasion, Means, and Fortune.  
IT is a Common thing to Screw up Justice to the pitch 
f A Man may be over-Grateful, as well as over-righteous.  of an Injury. A Man may be Over-Righteous; and, Why not Over-Grateful too? There is a Mischievous excess, that borders so close upon Ingratitude, that it is no easy matter to distinguish the one from the other: but, in regard that there is good Will in the bottom of it (however distempered; for it is Effectually but Kindness out of the Wits) we shall discourse it under the Title of Gratitude Mistaken.   

CHAP. XVIII. Gratitude Mistaken.  
TO refuse a Good Office, not so much because we do not need it, as because we would not be indebted for it, is a kind of Fantastical Ingratitude; and somewhat akin to that Nicety of humour, on the other side, of being Over-Grateful; only it lies another way, and seems to be the more pardonable Ingratitude of the two. Some People take it for a great Instance of their Good Will, to be still wishing their Benefactors, such or such a Mischief, only, forsooth, that they themselves might be the happy Instruments of their Release. These Men do like Extravagant Lovers, that take it for a great proof of their Affection, to wish one another Banished, Beggared, or diseased, that they might have the opportunity of interposing to their relief. What difference is there betwixt such Wishing, and Cursing? Such an Affection, and a Mortal hatred? The Intent is good, you'll say, but this is a Misapplication of it. Let such a one fall into my Power; or into the hands of his Enemies, his Creditors, or the Common People, and no Mortal be able to rescue him but myself. Let his Life, his Liberty, and his Reputation lie all at Stake, and no Creature, but myself, in Condition to succour him. And why all this, but because he has obliged me, and I would requite him? If this be Gratitude, to propound Jails, Shackles, Slavery, War, Beggary to the Man, that you would requite, What would you do where you are Ungrateful? This way of Proceeding, over and above that it is impious in itself, is likewise overhasty, and Unseasonable: for, he that goes too fast, is as much too blame, as he that does not move at all (to say nothing of the Injustice) for if I had never been obliged, I should never have wished it. There are Seasons wherein a Benefit is neither to be Received, nor Requited. To press a Return upon me, when I do not desire it, is Unmannerly; but it is worse, to force me to desire it. How rigorous would he be to exact a Requital, who is thus eager to return it? To wish a Man in distress, that I may relieve him; is, first to wish him Miserable; to wish that he may stand in need of any body, is against Him; and to wish that he may stand in need of Me, is for myself: So that my business is not so much a Charity to my Friend, as the Cancelling of a Bond: Nay, it is half way, the wish of an Enemy. It is Barbarous to wish a Man in Chains, Slavery, or Want, only to bring him out again: Let me rather wish him powerful, and happy, and myself indebted to him. By Nature, we are prone to Mercy, Humanity, Compassion; may we be excited to be more so, by the Number of the Grateful; may their Number increase, and may we have no need of trying them.  
IT is not for an honest Man to make way to a Good Office by a Crime; 
a We must not do an ill thing, that good may come of it.  as if a Pilot should pray for a Tempest, that he might prove his skill; or a General wish his Army routed, that he might show himself a great Commander in recovering of the day. 'Tis throwing of a Man into a River, to take him out again. 'Tis an Obligation, I confess, to cure a Wound, or a Disease; but, to make that Wound, or Disease, on purpose to Cure it, is a most perverse Ingratitude. It is barbarous even to an Enemy; much more to a Friend; For, it is not so much to do him a Kindness, as to put him in need of it. Of the two, let it be rather a Scar, than a Wound; and yet it would be better to have it neither. Rome had been little beholden to Scipio, if he had prolonged the Punic War, that he might have the finishing of it at last: or to the Decii, for dying for their Country, if they had first brought it to the last Extremity of needing their Devotion. It may be a good Contemplation, but it is a lewd Wish. Aeneas had never been surnamed the Pious, if he had wished the ruin of his Country, only that he might have the honour of taking his Father out of the Fire. 'Tis the Scandal of a Physician to make work, and irritate a Disease, and to torment his Patient for the Reputation of his Cure. If a Man should openly imprecate Poverty, Captivity, Fear, or Danger, upon a Person that he has been Obliged to, Would not the whole World condemn him for't? And, What's the difference; but that the One is only a private Wish, and the Other, a public Declaratio? Rutilius was told in his Exile, that for his Comfort, there would be ere long a Civil War, that would bring all the Banished Men home again. God forbid, says he, for I had rather my Country should blush for my Banishment, than Mourn for my Return. How much more honourable is it to Owe cheerfully, than to Pay dishonestly? It is the wish of an Enemy to take a Town, that he may preserve it, and to be Victorious, that he may forgive; but, the Mercy comes after the Cruelty; beside, that it is an Injury both to God and Man, for, the Man must be first afflicted by Heaven, to be relieved by me. So that we impose the Cruelty upon God, and take the Compassion to ourselves, and, at the best, it is but a Curse that makes way for a Blessing; the bare wish is an Injury; and, if it does not take effect, 'tis because Heaven has not heard our Prayers. Or, if they should succeed, the fear itself is a Torment: And, it is much more desirable, to have a firm, and unshaken Security. 'Tis Friendly to wish it in your Power to oblige me, if ever I chance to need it; but, it is unkind to wish me miserable, that I may need it. How much more Pious is it, and Humane, to wish that I may never want the Occasion of Obliging, nor the Means of doing it; nor ever have reason to repent of what I have done?   

CHAP. XIX. Of Ingratitude.  
INGRATITUDE is, of all Crimes, that which we are to account the most Venial in others, and the most Unpardonable in ourselves. It is Impious to the highest degree; for, it makes us fight against our Children, and our Altars. There are, there ever were, and there ever will be Criminals of all sorts; as Murderers, Tyrants, Thiefs, Adulterers, Traitors, Robbers, and Sacrilegious Persons; but, there is hardly any Notorious Crime without a Mixture of Ingratitude. It disunites Mankind, and breaks the very Pillars of Society. And yet so far is this Prodigious Wickedness from being any wonder to us, that even thankfulness itself were much the greater of the two. For Men are deterred from it by Labour, Expense, Lazyness, Business; or else diverted from it by Lust, Envy, Ambition, Pride, Levity, Rashness, Fear: Nay, by the very Shame of Confessing what they have received. And the Unthankful Man has nothing to say for himself all this while; For, there needs neither Pains, nor Fortune, for the discharge of his Duty; Beside, the inward Anxiety, and Torment, when a Man's Conscience makes him afraid of his own Thoughts.  
TO speak against the Ungrateful, is to rail against Mankind; 
a We are all Ungrateful.  for, even those that complain are guilty; nor do I speak only of those that do not live up to the strict Rule of Virtue; but Mankind itself is degenerated, and lost. We live unthankfully in this World, and we go struggling and murmuring out of it; dissatisfied with our Lot; whereas we should be Grateful for the Blessings we have enjoyed, and account that sufficient which Providence has appointed for us: A little more time may make our Lives longer, but not happier; and whensoever it is the pleasure of God to call us, we must obey; and yet all this while we go on quarrelling at the World for what we find in ourselves, and we are yet more Unthankful to Heaven, than we are to one another. What Benefit can be great now to that Man that despises the Bounties of his Maker? We would be as strong as Elephants, as swift as Bucks, as light as Birds, and we complain, that we have not the sagacity of Dogs; the sight of Eagles, the long Life of Ravens; nay, that we are not Immortal, and endued with the Knowledge of things to come. Nay, we take it ill, that we are not Gods upon Earth: never considering the Advantages of our Condition, or the Benignity of Providence in the Comforts that we enjoy. We subdue the strongest of Creatures, and overtake the fleetest: We reclaim the fiercest, and outwit the Craftiest. We are within one degree of Heaven itself, and yet we are not satisfied. Since there is not any one Creature which we had rather be, we take it ill that we cannot draw the United Excellences of all other Creatures into ourselves. Why are we not rather thankful to that Goodness, which has subjected the whole Creation to our Use, and Service?  

b Causes of Ingratitude.  THE Principal Causes of Ingratitude, are Pride, and Self-Conceipt, Avarice, Envy, etc. 'Tis a familiar Exclamation, ' 'tis true, he did this or that for me, but it came so late, and it was so little, I had even as good have been without it: If he had not given it to me, he must have given it to some body else; it was nothing out of his own Pocket: Nay, we are so Ungrateful, that he that gives us all we have, if he leaves any thing to himself, we reckon that he does us an Injury. It cost julius Caesar his Life, the disappointment of his Unsatiable Companions; and yet he reserved nothing of all that he got, to himself, but the liberty of disposing it. There is no Benefit so large, but Malignity will still lessen it: none so narrow, which a good Interpretation will not enlarge. No Man shall ever be Grateful, that views a Benefit on the wrong side; or takes a good Office by the wrong handle. The Avaricious Man is Naturally Ungrateful, for he never thinks he has enough, but, without considering what he has, only Minds what he covets. Some pretend want of power to make a Competent Return, and you shall find in others a kind of Graceless Modesty, that makes a Man ashamed of requiting an Obligation, because 'tis a Confession that he has received one.  

c Not to return Good for Good is Inhuman, but Evil for Good, is Diabolical.  NOT to return one good Office for another, is Inhuman, but to return evil for good is Diabolical. There are too many even of this sort, who, the more they owe, the more they hate. There's nothing more dangerous than to oblige those People, for when they are Conscious of not paying the Debt, they wish the Creditor out of the way. It is a Mortal hatred, that which arises from the Shame of an abused Benefit. When we are on the Ask side, What a deal of cringing there is, and profession? Well, I shall never forget this Favour. It will be an eternal Obligation to me. But, within a while, the Note is changed, and we hear no more words on't; till, by little and little, it is all quite forgotten. So long as we stand in need of a Benefit, there is nothing dearer to us; nor any thing cheaper, when we have received it. And yet a Man may as well refuse to deliver up a Sum of Money that's left him in Trust, without a a Suit, as not to return a good Office without ask; and when we have no value any further for the Benefit, we do commonly care as little for the Author. People follow their Interest; one Man is Grateful for his Convenience, and another Man is Ungrateful for the same Reason.  

d There are Ungrateful Governments, as well as Ungrateful Men.  SOME are Ungrateful to their Country; and their own Country no less Ungrateful to others; so that the Complaint of Ingratitude reaches all Men. Does not the Son wish for the death of his Father? the Husband for that of his Wife, etc. But, Who can look for Gratitude in an Age of so many Gaping, and Craving Appetites, where all People take, and none give? In an Age of Licence to all sorts of Vanity, and Wickedness; as Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Envy, Ambition, Sloth, Insolence, Levity, Contumacy, Fear, Rashness, Private Discords, and Public Evils, Extravagant and Groundless wishes, Vain Confidences, Sickly Affections, Shameless Impieties, Rapine Authorised, and the Violation of all things Sacred, and Profane. Obligations are pursued with Sword and Poison: Benefits are turned into Crimes; and that Blood most Seditiously Spilt, for which every honest Man should expose his own. Those that should be the Preservers of their Country, are the Destroyer's of it; and, 'tis matter of dignity to trample upon the Government; The Sword gives the Law, and Mercenaries take up Arms against their Masters. Among these turbulent, and unruly Motions, What hope is there of finding honesty, or good Faith, which is the quietest of all Virtues? There is no more lively Image of humane life, than that of a conquered City: there's neither Mercy, Modesty, nor Religion, and if we forget our Lives, we may well forget our Benefits. The World abounds with Examples of Ungrateful Persons, and no less with those of Ungrateful Governments. Was not Catiline Ungrateful? Whose Malice aimed, not only at the Mastering of his Country, but at the total destruction of it, by calling in an Inveterate, and Vindictive Enemy from beyond the Alps, to wreak their long thirsted-for Revenge; and to Sacrifice the Lives of as many noble Romans, as might serve to answer, and appease the Ghosts of the Slaughtered Gauls? Was not Marius Ungrateful? that from a Common Soldier, being raised up to a Consul, not only gave the Word for Civil Bloodshed, and Massacres, but was himself the Sign for the Execution; and every Man he met in the Streets, to whom he did not stretch out his Right-hand, was Murdered? And, Was not Sylla Ungrateful too? that when he had waded up to the Gates in Humane Blood, carried the Outrage into the City, and there most barbarously cut two entire Legions to pieces in a Corner; not only after the Victory, but most perfidiously after quarter given them. Good God that ever any Man should not only scape with Impunity, but receive a Reward for so horrid a Villainy? Was not Pompey Ungrateful too? who, after three Consulships, three Triumphs, and so many honours Usurped before his time, split the Commonwealth into three Parts; and brought it to such a pass, that there was no hope of Safety, but by Slavery; Only, forsooth, to abate the Envy of his Power, he took other Partners with him into the Government, as if that which was not lawful for any one, might have been allowable for more; dividing, and distributing the Provinces, and breaking all into a Triumvirate, reserving still two parts of the three in his own Family. And, Was not Caesar Ungrateful also? though, to give him his due, he was a Man of his Word; Merciful in his Victories, and never killed any Man, but with his Sword in his hand. Let us therefore forgive one another. Only one Word more now for the shame of Ungrateful Governments. Was not Camillus banished? Scipio dismissed? and Cicero exiled, and plundered? But, What is all this to those that are so mad, as to dispute even the goodness of Heaven, which gives us all, and expects nothing again, but continues giving to the most Unthankful, and Complaining.   

CHAP. XX. There can be no Law against Ingratitude,  
INGRATITUDE is so dangerous to itself, and so detestable to other people, that Nature, one would think, had sufficiently provided against it, without need of any other Law. For every Ungrateful Man is his own Enemy, and it seems superfluous to compel a Man to be kind to himself, and to follow his own Inclinations. This, of all wickedness imaginable, is certainly the Vice which does the most divide, and distract Humane Nature. Without the Exercise, and the Commerce of Mutual Offices, we can be neither happy, nor safe; for it is only Society that secures us; Take us one by one, and we are a Prey even to Brutes, as well as to one another; Nature has brought us into the World naked, and unarmed; we have not the Teeth, or the Paws, of Lions or Bears,, to make ourselves terrible: but, by the two Blessings of Reason, and Union, we secure and defend ourselves against Violence and Fortune. This it is that makes Man the Master of all other Creatures, who otherwise were scarce a Match for the weakest of them. This is it that comforts us in Sickness, in Age, in Misery, in Pains, and in the wo●…st of Calamities. Take away this Combination, and Mankind is dissociated, and falls to pieces. 'Tis true, that there is no Law established against this abominable Vice: but, we cannot say yet, that it escapes unpunished, for, a public hatred is certainly the greatest of all Penalties, over and above that, we lose the most valuable Blessing of Life, in the not bestowing, and Receiving of Benefits. If Ingratitude were to be punished by a Law, it would discredit the Obligation; for a Benefit is to be Given, not Lent: And if we have no Return at all, there's no just Cause of Complaint: for Gratitude were no Virtue, if there were any danger in being Ungrateful. There are Halters, I know, Hooks, and Gibbets, provided for Homicide, Poison, Sacrilege, and Rebellion; but Ingratitude (here upon Earth) is only punished in the Schools; all further pains, and Inflictions, being wholly remitted to Divine Justice. And, if a Man may Judge of the Conscience by the Countenance, the Ungrateful Man is never without a Canker at his heart; his Min●… and Aspect, is sad and solicitous; whereas the other is always Cheerful, and Serene.  
AS there 
a There neither is, nor can be, any Law against Ingratitude.  are no Laws Extant against Ingratitude; So is it utterly Impossible to contrive any, that in all Circumstances shall reach it. If it were Actionable, there would not be Courts enough in the whole World, to try the Causes in. There can be no setting of a day for the requiting of Benefits, as for the payment of Money, nor any Estimate upon the Benefits themselves, but the whole matter rests in the Conscience of both parties; And then there are so many degrees of it, that the same Rule will never serve all: Beside that, to proportion it, as the Benefit is greater or less, will be both impracticable, and without Reason. One good Turn saves my Life; another, my Freedom, or peradventure my very Soul. How shall any Law now suit a Punishment to an Ingratitude, under these differing degrees? It must not be said in Benefits, as in Bonds, Pay what you owe. How shall a Man pay Life, Health, Credit, Security, in kind? There can be no set Rule to bond that infinite variety of Cases, which are more properly the Subject of Humanity, and Religion, than of Law, and Public Justice. There would be Disputes also about the Benefit itself; which must totally depend upon the Courtesy of the Judge, for no Law Imaginable can set it forth. One Man Gives me an Estate; another only Lends me a Sword, and that Sword preserves my Life. Nay, the very same thing several ways done, changes the Quality of the Obligation. A Word, a Tone, a Look, makes a great Alteration in the Case. How shall we judge then, and determine a Matter, which does not depend upon the fact itself, but upon the Force, and Intention of it. Some things are reputed Benefits, not for their value, but because we desire them. And there are Offices of a much greater Value, that we do not reckon upon at all. If Ingratitude were Liable to a Law, we must never give, but before Witnesses, which would overthrow the dignity of the Benefit. And then the Punishment must either be equal, where the Crimes are unequal, or else it must be unrighteous: So that Blood must answer for Blood. He that is Ungrateful for my saving his Life, must forfeit his own. And, What can be more Inhuman, than that Benefits should conclude in Sanguinary Events? A Man saves my Life, and I am Ungrateful for it: Shall I be punished in my purse? That's too little: if it be less than the Benefit, it is unjust, and it must be Capital to be made equal to it. There are moreover certain Privileges granted to Parents, that can never be reduced to a Common Rule: Their Injuries may be Cognizable, but not their Benefits. The diversity of Cases is too Large, and Intricate, to be brought within the Prospect of a Law: So that it is much more Equitable to punish none, than to punish all alike. What if a Man follows a good Office with an Injury; Whether or no shall this quit scores? or, Who shall compare them, and weigh though one against the other? There is another thing yet, which perhaps we do not dream of: Not one Man upon the face of the Earth would scape, and yet every Man would expect to be his own Judge. Once again; We are all of us ungrateful; and the Number does not only take away the Shame, but gives Authority, and Protection to the Wickedness.  
IT is thought Reasonable by some, that there should be a Law against Ingratitude, for, say they, 'Tis common for one City to upbraid another, and, to claim that of Posterity, which was bestowed upon their Ancestors: But, this is only clamour without Reason. It is objected by others, as a discouragement to good Offices; if Men shall not be made answerable for them; but, I say, on the other side, that no Man would accept of a Benefit upon those terms. He that Gives, is prompted to't by a goodness of Mind; and, the generosity of the Action is lessened by the Caution; for, it is his desire, that the Receiver should please himself, and owe no more than he thinks fit. But, What if this might occasion fewer Benefits, so long as they would be franker? nor is there any hurt in putting a Check upon Rashness, and Profusion: In Answer to this; Men will be careful enough whom they oblige, without a Law; Nor is it possible for a Judge ever to set us right in't; or indeed any thing else, but the Faith of the Receiver. The honour of a Benefit is this way preserved, which is otherwise profaned, when it comes to be Mercenary, and made matter of Contention. We are even forward enough of ourselves, to wrangle without unnecessary Provocations. It would be well, I think, if Moneys might pass upon the same Conditions with other Benefits: and the payment remitted to the Conscience, without formalizing upon Bills and Securities: but Humane Wisdom has rather advised with Convenience, than Virtue, and chosen rather to force honesty, than to expect it. For every paltry Sum of Money, there must be Bonds, Witnesses, Counterparts, Pawns, etc. which is no other than a shameful Confession of Fraud, and Wickedness; when more Credit is given to our Seals, than to our Minds; and Caution taken, lest he that has received the Money, should deny it. Were it not better now to be deceived by some, than to suspect all? What's the difference at this rate, betwixt the Benefactor, and an Usurer, save only that in the Benefactors Case, there is no body stands Bound?   
The End.  

SENECA'S MORALS OF A Happy Life; OF ANGER and CLEMENCY: ABSTRACTED By Ro. L'ESTRANGE. PART II.  
LONDON, Printed by Tho. Newcomb, for Henry Brome, at the Gun in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1678.   

THE Contents OF A HAPPY LIFE.  
Chap. I. 
OF a Happy Life, and wherein it Consists. Pag. 1.  Chap. II. 
Humane Happiness is Founded upon Wisdom, and Virtue, and first of Wisdom. p. 9  Chap. III. 
There can be no Happiness without Virtue. p. 20.  Chap. XVI. 
Constancy of Mind gives a Man Reputation, and makes him Happy in despite of all Misfortunes. p. 200.  Chap. XVII. 
Our Happiness depends in a great Measure upon the Choice of our Company. p. 220.  Chap. XVIII. 
The Blessings of Friendship. p. 230.  Chap. XIX. 
He that would be Happy, must take an Account of his Time. p. 240.  Chap. XX. 
Happy is the Man that may Choose his own Business. p. 256.  Chap. XXI. 
The Contempt of Death makes all the Miseries of Life easy to us. p. 269  Chap. XXII. 
Consolations against Death from the Providence, and the Necessity of it. p. 288  Chap. XXIII. 
Against Immoderate Sorrow for the Death of Friends: p. 299  Chap: XXIV. 
Consolations against Banishment, and Bodily pains. p. 312  Chap. XXV. 
Poverty to a Wise Man is rather a Blessing than a Misfortune. p. 321    
SENECA OF A Happy Life  

CHAP. I. Of a Happy Life, and wherein it consists.  
THere is not any thing in this World perhaps, that is more Talked of, and less Understood, than the Business of a Happy Life. It is every Man's Wish, and Design; and yet not one of a thousand that knows wherein that Happiness consists. We live however in a Blind, and Eager pursuit of it; and the more haste we make in a wrong way, the farther we are from our Journeys ●…nd. Let us therefore First, consider, What it is we would be at; and Secondly, Which is the readiest way to compass it. If we be Right, we shall find every day how much we improve; but, if we either follow the Cry, or the Track of People that are out of the way, we must expect to be misled, and to consume our days in Wand'ring, and Error. Wherefore it highly concerns us to take along with us a skilful Guide; For it is not in this, as in other Voyages, where the Highway brings us to our Place of Repose; Or, if a Man should happen to be out, where the Inhabitants might set him Right again: But, on the Contrary, the beaten Road is here the most dangerous, and the People, in stead of helping us, misguide us. Let us not therefore follow, like Beasts, but rather govern ourselves by Reason, then by Example. It fares with us in Humane Life, as in a Routed Army; one stumbles first, and then another falls upon him, and so they follow, one upon the Neck of another, till the whole Field comes to be but one heap of Miscarriages. And the mischief is, That the Number of the Multitude carries it against Truth, and justice; so that we must leave the Crowd, if we would be Happy: For, the Question of a Happy Life is not to be decided by Vote: Nay, so far from it, that Plurality of Voices is still an Argument of the Wrong; the Common People find it easier to Believe, then to Judge; and content themselves with what is Usual; never examining whether it be Good or no. By the Common People is intended the Man of Title, as well as the Clouted Shoe: for I do not distinguish them by the Eye, but by the Mind, which is the proper Judge of the Mind. Worldly Felicity I know makes the head giddy; but, if ever a Man comes to himself again, he will confess, that whatsoever he has done he wishes undone; and, that the things he feared, were better than those he prayed for.  
THE true Felicity of Life, is to be 
a True Happiness.  free from Perturbations; to understand our Duties toward God, and Man; to enjoy the Present, without any anxious dependence upon the Future. Not to amuse ourselves with either Hopes, or Fears, but to rest satisfied with what we have, which is abundantly sufficient; for he that is so, wants nothing. The great Blessings of Mankind are within us, and within our Reach, but we shut our Eyes, and, like People in the dark, we fall foul upon the very thing we search for, without finding it. Tranquillity is a certain equality of Mind, which no condition of Fortune can either exalt, or depress. Nothing can make it less; for, it is the State of Humane Perfection: It raises us as high as we can go; and makes every Man his own Supporter; whereas he that is born up by any thing else, may fall. He that Judges aright, and perseveres in it, enjoys a perpetual Calm: he takes a true prospect of things; he observes an Order, a Measure, a Decorum in all his Actions: He has a Benevolence in his Nature; he squares his Life according to Reason; and draws to himself Love, and Admiration. Without a Certain, and an Unchangeable Judgement, all the rest is but Fluctuation: But, he that always Wills, and Nills the same thing, is undoubtedly in the Right. Liberty, and Serenity of Mind, must necessarily ensue upon the mastering of those things, which either allure, or affright us; when, in stead of those flashy Pleasures, (which even at the best are both vain, and hurtful together) we shall find ourselves possessed of Joys transporting, and everlasting. It must be a Sound Mind that makes a Happy Man; there must be a Constancy in all Conditions, a Care for the things of this World, but without trouble, and such an Indifferency for the Bounties of Fortune; that either with them, or without them, we may live contentedly. There must be neither Lamentation, nor Quarrelling, nor Sloth, nor Fear, for it makes a Discord in a Man's Life. He that fears, Serves. The Joy of a Wise Man stands firm without Interruption: In all Places, at all Times, and in all Conditions, his thoughts are cheerful and quiet. As it never came in to him from without, so it will never leave him; but, it is born within him, and inseparable from him. It is a solicitous Life that is egged on with the hope of any thing, though never so open and easy. Nay, though a Man should never suffer any sort of disappointment. I do not speak this, either as a Bar to the fair enjoyment of Lawful Pleasures; or to the gentle Flatteries of Reasonable Expectations: but, on the contrary, I would have Men to be always in good Humour; provided that it arises from their own Souls, and be cherished in their own Breasts. Other delights are trivial; they may smooth the Brow, but they do not fill, and affect the heart. True joy is a severe, and sober Motion; and they are miserably out, that take Laughing for Rejoicing: The seat of it is within, and there is no Cheerfulness like the Resolution of a Brave Mind, that has Fortune under its Feet. He that can look Death in the Face, and bid it welcome; open his door to Poverty, and Bridle his Appetites; this is the Man whom Providence has established in the Possession of Inviolable Delights. The Pleasures of the vulgar are ungrounded, thin, and superficial; but the other are Solid, and Eternal. As the Body itself is rather a Necessary thing, than a Great▪ so the Comforts of it are but Temporary, and Vain; Beside that without extraordinary Moderation, their End is only Pain, and Repentance. Whereas a Peaceful Conscience, Honest Thoughts, Virtuous Actions; and, an Indifference for Casual Events, are Blessings without End, Satiety, or Measure. This Consummated State of Felicity is only a Submission to the Dictate of Right Nature: The Foundation of it is Wisdom, and Virtue; the Knowledge of what we ought to do, and the Conformity of the Will to that Knowledge.   

CHAP. II. Humane Happiness is founded upon Wisdom, and Virtue; and first of Wisdom.  
TAKING for granted, That Humane Happiness is founded upon Wisdom, and Virtue, we shall Treat of these two Points in order as they lie: And First, of Wisdom; not in the Latitude of its various Operations, but only as it has a regard to Good Life, and the Happiness of Mankind.  
WISDOM is a Right Understanding; a 
a Wisdom, What it is.  Faculty of discerning Good from Evil; What is to to be chosen, and what rejected: A Judgement grounded upon the value of things, and not the Common Opinion of them; An Equality of Force, and a Strength of Resolution: It sets a Watch over our Words and Deeds; It takes us up with the Contemplation of the Works of Nature; and makes us Invincible, by either Good, or Evil Fortune. It is Large, and Spacious; and requires a great deal of Room to Work in; It ransacks Heaven, and Earth; It has for its Object, things past, and to come; Transitory and Eternal: It examines all the Circumstances of Time; what it is; when it began; and how long it will continue: And so for the Mind; whence it came; what it is; when it begins; how long it lasts; whether or no it passes from one Form to another; or serves only one; and wanders when it leaves us; where it abides in the State of Separation, and what the Action of it; what use it makes of its Liberty; whether or no it retains the Memory of things past, and comes to the Knowledge of itself. It is the Habit of a Perfect Mind; and the Perfection of Humanity, raised as high as Nature can carry it. It differs from Philosophy, as Avarice, and Money; the One desires, and the Other is desired; the one is the Effect, and the Reward of the other. To be Wise, is the Use of Wisdom, as Seeing is the Use of Eyes, and Well-speaking the Use of Eloquence. He that is perfectly Wise, is perfectly Happy; Nay, the very beginning of Wisdom makes Life easy to us. Neither is it enough to know this, unless we print it in our Minds by daily Meditation, and so bring a good Will to a good Habit. And we must Practise what we Preach: For, Philosophy is not a Subject for popular Ostentation; nor does it rest in Words, but in Things; It is not an Entertainment taken up for delight; or to give a Taste to our Leisures, but it fashions the Mind; governs our Actions, tells us what we are to do, and what not: It sits at the Helm, and guides us through all Hazards. Nay, we cannot be safe without it, for every hour gives us occasion to make use of it: It Informs us in all the Duties of Life; Piety to our Parents; Faith to our Friends; Charity to the Miserable; Judgement in Counsel: It gives us Peace, by Fearing nothing▪ and Riches, by Coveting nothing.  
there'S no Condition of Life that excludes a Wise Man from discharging his Duty. If his Fortune 
b A Wise Man does his duty in all Conditions.  be good, he tempers it; if bad, he masters it; if he has an Estate, he will exercise his Virtue in Plenty; if none, in Poverty; if he cannot do it in his Country, he will do it in Banishment; if he has no command, he will do the office of a common Soldier. Some People have the skill of reclaiming the fiercest of Beasts: they will make a Lion Embrace his Keeper; a Tiger Kiss him; and an Elephant Kneel to him. This is the Case of a Wise Man in the extremest Difficulties; Let them be never so terrible in themselves; when they come to him once, they are perfectly tame. They that ascribe the Invention of Tillage, Architecture, Navigation, etc. to Wise Men, may perchance be in the right, that they were invented by Wise Men; but they were not invented by Wise Men, as Wise Men: For Wisdom does not teach our Fingers, but our Minds: Fiddling, and Dancing; Arms, and Fortifications, were the Works of Luxury, and Discord; but Wisdom instructs us in the ways of Nature, and in the Arts of Unity, and Concord; Not in the Instruments, but in the Government of Life; nor to make us live only, but to live happily. She teaches us what things are Good, what Evil, and what only appear so; and, to distinguish betwixt true Greatness, and Tumour. She Clears our Minds, of Dross, and Vanity; she raises up our Thoughts to Heaven, and carries them down to Hell: She discourses the Nature of the Soul; the Powers, and Faculties of it; the first Principles of things; the Order of Providence; she exalts us from things Corporal, to Incorporeal; and retrives the Truth of all: She searches Nature, gives Laws to Life, and tells us, That it is not enough to know God, unless we Obey him: She looks upon all Accidents, as Acts of Providence; sets a true Value upon things; delivers us from false Opinions, and Condemns All Pleasures that are attended with Repentance. She allows nothing to be Good, that will not be so for ever; No Man to be Happy, but he that needs no other Happiness then what he has within himself; no Man to be Great, or Powerful, that is not Master of himself. This is the Felicity of Humane Life; a Felicity that can neither be corrupted, no●… extinguished: It inquires into the Nature of the Heavens, the Influences of the Stars; ●…ow far they operate upon our Minds, and Bodies; which thoughts, though they do not form our Manners, they do yet raise, and dispose us for Glorious things.  
IT is agreed upon at all Hands, that 
c Right Reason is the Perfection of Humane Nature.  Right Reason is the Perfection of Humane Nature, and Wisdom only the Dictate of it. The Greatness that arises from it, is solid, and unmoveable; the Resolutions of Wisdom being Free, Absolute, and Constant; whereas Folly is never long pleased with the same thing, but still shifting of Counsels, and Sick of itself. There can be no Happiness without Constancy, and Prudence; for, a Wise Man is to write without a Blot; and, what he likes once, he approves for ever: He admits of nothing that is either Evil, or Slippery, but Marches without Staggering, or Stumbling, and is never surprised: He lives always True, and Steady to himself; and whatsoever befalls him, this great Artificer of both Fortune's turns to Advantage. He that demurs, and hesitates, is not yet composed; but, wheresoever Virtue interposes upon the Main, there must be Concord, and Consent in the Parts; For all Virtues are in Agreement, as well as all Vices are at Variance. A Wise Man, in what condition soever he is, will be still Happy, for he subjects all things to himself, because he submits himself to Reason, and governs his Actions by Counsel, not by Passion. He is not moved with the Utmost Violences of Fortune, nor with the Extremities of Fire, and Sword; whereas a Fool is afraid of his own shadow, and surprised at ill Accidents, as if they were all levelled at him. He does nothing unwillingly, for whatever he finds necessary, he makes it his Choice. He propounds to himself the Certain Scope, and end of Humane Life: He follows that which conduces to't, and avoids that which hinders it. He is content with his Lot, whatever it be, without wishing what he has not; though, of the two, he had rather abound, than want. The great Business of his Life, like that of Nature, is performed without Tumult, or Noise: He neither fears danger, nor provokes it. But, it is his Caution, not any want of Courage: for Captivity, Wounds, and Chains he only looks upon as false, and Lymphatical Terrors. He does not pretend to go through with whatever he Undertakes; but to do that well which he does: Arts are but the Servants, Wisdom Commands, and where the matter fails, 'tis none of the Workman's fault. He is Cautelous in doubtful Cases; in Prosperity temperate, and resolute in Adversity: Still making the best of every Condition, and improving all Occasions to make them serviceable to his Fate. Some Accidents there are, which I confess may Affect him, but not Overthrow him: as Bodily Pains, Loss of Children, and Friends; the Ruin and Desolation of a Man's Country: One must be made of Stone, or Iron, not to be sensible of these Calamities; and beside, it were no Virtue to bear them, if a Body did not feel them.  
THERE are 
d Three degrees of Proficients in Wisdom.  Three degrees of Proficients in the School of Wisdom. The first, are those that come within sight of it, but not up to't: They have learned what they ought to do, but they have not put their Knowledge in practice: they are passed the hazard of a Relapse, but they have still the grudge of a Disease, though they are out of the danger of it. By a Disease, I do understand an Obstinacy in Evil, or an ill habit, that makes us over-eager upon things, which are either not much to be desired, or not at all. A Second sort are those, that have subjected their Appetites for a season, but are yet in fear of falling back. A Third sort are those that are clear of many Vices, but not of all. They are not Covetous, but perhaps they are Choleric; not Lustful, but perchance Ambitious; they are firm enough in some Cases, but weak in others; there are many that despise Death, and yet shrink at Pain. There are diversities in Wise Men, but no Inequalities; one is more Affable; Another more Ready; a Third, a better Speaker; but, the Felicity of them all is equal. It is in this, as in Heavenly Bodies, there is a certain State in Greatness.  
IN Civil, and Domestic Affairs, a 
e A Wise Man in some Cases may need Counsel.  Wise Man may stand in need of Counsel, as of a Physician, an Advocate, a Solicitor; but, in greater matters, the Blessing of Wise Men rests in the Joy they take in the Communication of their Virtues: If there were nothing else in it, a Man would apply himself to Wisdom, because it states him in a perpetual Tranquillity of Mind.   

CHAP. III. There can be no Happiness without Virtue.  
VIRTUE is that Perfect Good, which is the compliment of a Happy Life; the only Immortal thing that belongs to Mortality: It is the Knowledge both of others, and itself: It is an Invincible Greatness of Mind, not to be elevated, or dejected, with good, or ill fortune; It is Sociable, and Gentle, Free, Steady, and Fearless; Content within itself, full of inexhaustible delights, and it is valued for itself. One may be a good Physician, a good Governor, a good Grammarian; without being a Good Man; So that all things from without, are only Accessoryes, for the seat of it is a pure, and holy Mind. It consists in a Congruity of Actions; which we can never expect, so long as we are distracted by our Passions. Not but that a Man may be allowed to Change Colour, and Countenance, and suffer such Impressions as are properly a kind of Natural Force upon the Body, and not under the dominion of the Mind: But, all this while, I will have his Judgement firm, and he shall act steadily, and boldly, without wavering betwixt the Motions of his Body, and those of his Mind. It is not a thing Indifferent, I know, whether a Man lies at Ease upon a Bed, or in Torment upon a Wheel: and yet the former may be the worse of the two, if we suffer the latter with Honour, and enjoy the other with Infamy; It is not the Matter, but the Virtue, that makes the Action Good, or Ill; and, He that is led in Triumph, may be yet greater than his Conqueror. When we come once to value our Flesh above our Honesty, we are lost: and yet I would not press upon dangers; no not so much as upon Inconveniencies; unless where the Man and the Brute come in competition: And, in such a Case, rather than make a forfeiture of my Credit, my Reason, or my Faith, I would run all Extremities. They are great Blessings, to have tender Parents, Dutiful Children, and to live under a Just, and well-ordered Government. Now, Would it not trouble even a Virtuous Man, to see his Children Butchered before his Eyes; his Father made a Slave, and his Country overrun by a Barbarous Enemy? There is a great difference betwixt the simple Loss of a Blessing, and the succeeding of a great Mischief into the place of it over and above. The loss of Health is followed with Sickness; and the loss of Sight, with Blindness; but, this does not hold in the Loss of Friends, and Children; where there is rather something on the Contrary to supply that Loss, that is to say, Virtue; which fills the Mind, and takes away the desire of what we have not. What Matters it whether the Water be stopped, or no, so long as the Fountain is safe? Is a Man ever the wiser for a Multitude of Friends, or the more foolish for the Loss of them? So neither is he the Happier, Nor the more Miserable: Short Life, Grief, and Pain, are Accessions that have no Effect at all upon Virtue. It consists in the Action, and not in the things we do: In the Choice itself, and not in the Subject matter of it. It is not a despicable Body, or Condition; not Poverty, Infamy, or Scandal, that can obscure the Glories of Virtue: but, a Man may see her through all oppositions, and he that looks diligently into the State of a Wicked Man, will see the Canker at his Heart, through all the false, and dazzling splendours of Greatness, and Fortune. We shall then discover our Childishness, in setting our hearts upon things trivial and contemptible; and, in the selling of our very Country, and Parents for a Rattle. And, What's the difference (in effect) betwixt Old Men, and Children; but that the One deals in Paintings, and Statues, and the Other in Babies? so that we ourselves are only the more Expensive Fools.  
IF one could but see the Mind of a Good Man, as it is Illustrated with Virtue; the Beauty, and the 
a The dignity of Virtue.  Majesty of it, which is a Dignity not so much as to be thought of without Love, and Veneration; Would not a Man bless himself at the sight of such an Object, as at the Encounter of some Supernatural Power? A Power so Miraculous, that it is a kind of Charm upon the Souls of those that are truly affected with it. There is so wonderful a Grace, and Authority in it, that even the worst of Men approve it, and set up for the Reputation of being accounted Virtuous themselves. They covet the Fruit indeed, and the Profit of Wickedness, but they hate, and are ashamed of the Imputation of it. It is by an Impression of Nature, that all Men have a Reverence for Virtue: they Know it, and they have a Respect for it, though they do not Practise it: Nay, for the Countenance of their very Wickedness they miscall it Virtue. Their Injuries they call Benefits, and expect a Man should thank them for doing him a Mischief; they cover their most Notorious Iniquities with a Pretext of Justice. He that Robs upon the Highway had rather find his Booty, than force it. Ask any of them that live upon Rapine, Fraud, Oppression, if they had not rather enjoy a Fortune Honestly gotten, and their Consciences will not suffer them to deny it. Men are Vicious only for the Profit of Villainy; for, at the same time that they commit it, they condemn it. Nay, so powerful is Virtue, and so Gracious is Providence, that every Man has a Light set up within him for a Guide; which we do all of us both See, and Acknowledge, though we do not pursue it. This is it that makes the Prisoner upon the Torture happier than the Executioner, and Sickness better than Health, if we bear it without yielding, or repining: This is it that overcomes Ill Fortune, and Moderates Good; for it marches betwixt the One, and the Other, with an Equal contempt of Both. It turns, (like Fire) all things into itself; our Actions, and our Friendships, are tinctured with it; and, whatever it touches becomes Amiable. That which is frail and Mortal, rises, and falls, grows, wastes, and varies from itself; but the State of things Divine is always the same: And so is Virtue, let the Matter be what it will. It is never the worse for the difficulty of the Action, nor the Better for the Easiness of it. 'Tis the same in a Rich Man, as in a Poor, in a Sickly Man, as in a Sound, in a Strong as in a Weak▪ The Virtue of the Besieged is as great as that of the Besiegers. There are some Virtues, I confess, which a good Man cannot be without, and yet he had rather have no Occasion to employ them. If there were any difference, I should prefer the Virtues of Patience before those of Pleasure; for, it is braver to break through Difficulties, than to temper our delights. But, though the Subject of Virtue may possibly be against Nature, as to be burnt, or wounded, yet the virtue itself of an Invincible Patience is according to Nature. We may seem perhaps to promise more than Humane Nature is able to perform; but, we speak with a respect to the Mind, and not to the Body.  
IF a Man does not Live up to his own Rules, it is something 
b The Good Will is accepted for the Deed.  yet to have Virtuous Meditations, and Good Purposes, even without Acting: It is Generous, the very Adventure of being Good, and the bare proposal of an Eminent Course of Life, though beyond the force of Humane Frailty to accomplish. There is something of Honour yet in the Miscarriage; Nay, in the Naked Contemplation of it. I would receive my own Death with as little trouble, as I would hear of another Man's; I would bear the same Mind, whether I be Rich or Poor; whether I get, or lose in the World; what I have, I will not either sordidly spare, or prodigally squander away; and, I will reckon upon Benefits well placed, as the fairest part of my Possession: Not valuing them by Number, or Weight, but by the Profit and Esteem of the Receiver; accounting myself never the Poorer for that which I give to a Worthy Person. What I do shall be done for Conscience, not Ostentation: I will Eat, and Drink, not to gratify my Palate, or only to fill, and empty, but to satisfy Nature: I will be Cheerful to my Friends; Mildred, and Placable to my Enemies; I will prevent an honest request, if I can foresee it, and I will grant it without ask; I will look upon the whole World as my Country, and upon the Gods, both as the Witnesses and the Judges of my Words, and Deeds. I will live, and die with this Testimony, that I loved good Studies, and a good Conscience, that I never invaded another Man's Liberty, and that I preserved my own. I will govern my Life, and my Thoughts, as if the whole World were to see the One, and to read the other; for, What does it signify, to make any thing a secret to my Neighbour, when to God (who is the searcher of our hearts) all our Privacies are open?  
VIRTUE is divided into two Parts, 
c Virtue is divided into Contemplation and Action  Contemplation, and Action. The one is delivered by Institution, the other by Admonition: One part of Virtue consists in Discipline; the other in Exercise; for we must first Learn, and then Practice. The sooner we begin to apply ourselves to it, and the more haste we make, the longer shall we enjoy the Comforts of a rectified mind; nay, we have the Fruition of it in the very Act of Forming it; but, it is another sort of delight, I must confess, that arises from the Contemplation of a Soul which is advanced into the Possession of Wisdom, and Virtue. If it was so great a Comfort to us, to pass from the Subjection of our Childhood, into a State of Liberty, and Business; how much greater will it be, when we come to cast off the Boyish Levity of our Minds; and range ourselves among the Philosophers? We are passed our Minority, 'tis true, but not our Indiscretions; and, which is yet worse, we have the Authority of Seniors, and the Weaknesses of Children. (I might have said of Infants, for every little thing frights the one, and every trivial fancy the other.) Whoever studies this point well, will find, that many things are the less to be feared, the more terrible they appear. To think any thing Good that is not Honest, were to reproach Providence; for, Good Men suffer many Inconveniencies; But Virtue, like the Sun, goes on still with her work, let the Air be never so cloudy, and finishes her Course; Extinguishing likewise all other Splendours, and Oppositions; Insomuch, that Calamity is no more to a Virtuous Mind, than a Shower into the Sea. That which is Right, is not to be valued by quantity, number, or time; A Life of a day may be as honest, as a Life of a hundred years; but yet Virtue in one Man may have a larger Field to show itself in, than in another. One Man perhaps may be in a Station to Administer unto Cities, and Kingdoms; to Contrive good Laws, Create Friendships, and do beneficial Offices to Mankind: 'tis another Man's Fortune to be straightened by Poverty, or put out of the way by Banishment: and yet the latter may be as virtuous as the former; and may have as great a Mind, as exact a Prudence, as inviolable a Justice, and as large a Knowledge of things, both Divine, and Humane: without which, a Man cannot be happy. For virtue is open to all; as well to Servants, and Exiles, as to Princes: It is profitable to the World, and to itself, at all Distances, and in all Conditions; and there is no difficulty can excuse a Man from the Exercise of it; and it is only to be found in a Wise Man, though there may be some faint resemblances of it in the common people. The Stoics hold all Virtues to be equal; but, yet there's great variety in the Matter they have to work upon, according as it is larger, or narrower; Illustrious, or less Noble; of more, or less Extent; as all good Men are equal; that is to say, as they are Good; but yet one may be Young, another Old; one may be Rich, another Poor; one, Eminent, and Powerful, another Unknown, and Obscure. There are many things which have little or no Grace in themselves, and are yet made Glorious and Remarkable by virtue. Nothing can be good which gives neither Greatness nor Security to the Mind; but on the Contrary, infects it with Insolence, Arrogance, and Tumour: Nor does Virtue dwell upon the Tip of the Tongue, but in the Temple of a purified heart. He that depends upon any other good, becomes Covetous of Life, and what belongs to't, which exposes a Man to Appetites that are vast, unlimited, and intolerable. Virtue is Free, and Indefatigable, and accompanied with Concord, and Gracefulness: Whereas Pleasure is mean, servile, transitory, tiresome, and sickly, and scarce outlives the tasting of it: It is the good of the Belly, and not of the Man, and only the Felicity of Brutes. Who does not know, that Fools enjoy their Pleasures, and that there is great variety in the Entertainments of Wickedness? Nay, the Mind itself has its variety of Perverse Pleasures, as well as the Body; as Insolence, Self-Conceipt, Pride, Garrulity, Laziness, and the Abusive Wit of turning every thing into Ridicule; whereas Virtue Weighs all this, and Corrects it; It is the Knowledge both of others, and of itself; it is to be learned from itself; and, the very Will itself may be Taught: which Will cannot be right, unless the whole habit of the Mind be right, from whence the Will comes. It is by the Impulse of Virtue that we Love Virtue, so that the very way to Virtue lies by Virtue, which takes in also, at a View, the Laws of Humane Life.  
NEITHER are we to value ourselves upon a day, or 
d A Virtuous Life must be all of a Piece.  an hour, or any one Action, but upon the whole habit of the Mind. Some Men do one thing bravely, but not another; they will shrink at Infamy, and bear up against Poverty: In this Case, we commend the Fact, and despise the Man. The Soul is never in the right place, till it be delivered from the Cares of Humane Affairs: We must Labour, and Climb the Hill, if we will arrive at Virtue, whose seat is upon the Top of it. He that master's Avarice, and is truly good, stands firm against Ambition; he looks upon his last hour, not as a Punishment, but as the Equity of a Common Fate; He that Subdues his Carnal Lusts, shall easily keep himself unteinted with any other. So that Reason does not Encounter this or that Vice by itself, but beats down all at a Blow. What does he care for Ignominy, that only values himself upon Conscience, and not Opinion? Socrates looked a Scandalous Death in the Face, with the same Constancy that he had before practised toward the Thirty Tyrants: his Virtue consecrated the very Dungeon; as Cato's Repulse was Cato's Honour, and the reproach of the Government. He that is wise, will take delight even in an Ill opinion that is well gotten; 'tis Ostentation, not Virtue, when a Man will have his good Deeds published; and, 'tis not enough to be just, where there is honour to be gotten, but to continue so, in defiance of Infamy and Danger.  
BUT Virtue cannot lie hid, for, the time will come, that 
e Virtue can never be suppressed.  shall raise it again (even after it is buried) and deliver▪ it from the Malignity of the Age that oppressed it: Immortal Glory is the Shadow of it, and keeps it Company whether we will or no; but sometimes the Shadow goes before the Substance, and otherwhiles it follows it: and, the later it comes, the larger it is, when even Envy itself shall have given way to't. It was a long time that Democritus was taken for a Madman, and before Socrates had any Esteem in the World. How long was it before Cato could be Understood? Nay, he was Affronted, Contemned, and Rejected; and People never knew the value of him till they had lost him; the Integrity and Courage of Rutilius had been forgotten, but for his Sufferings. I speak of those that Fortune has made Famous for their Persecutions, and there are others also that the World never took notice of till they were Dead; as Epicurus, and Metrodorus, that were almost wholly unknown, even in the Place where they Lived. Now, as the Body is to be kept in, upon the Downhill, and forced Upwards; So there are some Virtues that require the Rein, and others the Spur. In Liberality, Temperance, Gentleness of Nature, we are to check ourselves, for fear of falling; but, in Patience, Resolution, and Perseverance, where we are to Mount the Hill, we stand in need of Encouragement. Upon this Division of the Matter, I had rather steer the Smother Course, than pass through the Experiments of Sweat and Blood. I know it is my Duty to be content in all Conditions; but yet if it were at my Choice, I would choose the fairest. When a Man comes once to stand in need of Fortune, his Life is Anxious, Suspicious, Timorous, Dependent upon every moment, and in fear of all Accidents. How can that Man Resign himself to God, or bear his Lot, whatever it be, without Murmuring, and cheerfully submit to Providence,; that shrinks at every Motion of Pleasure, or Pain? It is Virtue alone that raises us above Griefs, Hopes, Fears, and Chances; and makes us not only Patient, but willing, as knowing that whatever we suffer, is according to the Decree of Heaven. He that is overcome with Pleasure (so contemptible, and weak an Enemy) What will become of him when he comes to grapple with Dangers, Necessities, Torments, Death, and the Dissolution of Nature itself? Wealth, Honour, and Favour, may come upon a Man by Chance; nay, they may be cast upon him without so much as looking after them, but Virtue is the work of Industry, and Labour; and certainly 'tis worth the while to purchase that good which brings all others along with it. A Good Man is Happy within himself, and Independent upon Fortune: Kind to his Friend; Temperate to his Enemy; Religiously Just, Indefatigably Laborious, and he discharges all Duties with a Constancy, and Congruity of Actions.   

CHAP. IV. Philosophy is the Guide of Life.  
IF it be true, that the Understanding, and the Will, are the two Eminent Faculties of the Reasonable Soul; it follows necessarily, that Wisdom, and Virtue, (which are the best Improvement of those two Faculties) must be the Perfection also of our Reasonable Being; and consequently the Undeniable Foundation of a Happy Life. There is not any Duty to which Providence has not annexed a Blessing; not any Institution of Heaven, which, even in this Life, we may not be the better for; not any temptation, either of Fortune, or of Appetite, that is not subjected to our Reason; nor any Passion, or Affliction, for which Virtue has not provided a Remedy. So that it is our own fault if we either Fear, or Hope for any thing; which two Affections are the Root of all our Miseries. From this General Prospect of the Foundation of our Tranquillity, we shall pass by degrees to a particular Consideration of the means by which it may be procured; and of the Impediments that obstruct it: beginning with that Philosophy which principally regards our Manners, and Instructs us in the Measures of a Virtuous, and a Quiet Life.  

a Philosophy is Moral, Natural, and Rational.  PHILOSOPHY is divided into Moral, Natural, and Rational: The First concerns our Manners; the Second searches the Works of Nature; and the Third furnishes us with Propriety of Words, and Arguments, and the faculty of distinguishing, that we may not be imposed upon with Tricks, and Fallacies. The Causes of things fall under Natural Philosophy; Arguments, under Rational; and Actions, under Moral. Moral Philosophy is again divided into Matter of justice, which arises from the Estimation of Things, and of Men; and into Affections, and Actions; and, a failing in any one of these, disorders all the rest; For, What does it profit us to know the true value of things, if we be transported by our Passions? or, to Master our Appetites, without understanding the when, the what, the how, and other Circumstances of our Proceedings? For, it is one thing to Know the Rate, and Dignity of things; and another to know the little Nicks, and Springs of Acting. Natural Philosophy is Conversant about things Corporeal, and Incorporeal; the disquisition of Causes, and Effects, and the Contemplation of the Cause of Causes: Rational Philosophy is divided into Logic and Rhetoric; the One looks after Words, Sense, and Order; the Other Treats barely of Words, and the Significations of them. Socrates' places all Philosophy in Morals; and Wisdom, in the distinguishing of Good and Evil. It is the Art and Law of Life, and it Teaches us what to do in all Cases, and, like good Markes-men, to hit the White at any distance. The force of it is incredible; for it gives us, in the weakness of a Man, the security of a Spirit: In Sickness, it is as good as a Remedy to us, for whatsoever eases the Mind, is profitable also to the Body. The Physician may prescribe Diet, and Exercise, and accommodate his Rule and Medicine to the Disease; but, 'tis Philosophy that must bring us to a Contempt of Death, which is the Remedy of all Diseases. In Poverty, it gives us Riches, or such a State of Mind, as makes them superfluous to us. It arms us against all Difficulties; One Man is pressed with Death, another with Poverty; some with Envy; others are offended at Providence, and unsatisfied with the Condition of Mankind: But Philosophy prompts us to relieve the Prisoner, the Infirm, the Necessitous, the Condemned; to show the Ignorant their Errors, and rectify their Affections. It makes us inspect, and govern our Manners; it rouzes us where we are faint, and drowsy; it binds up what is loose, and humbles in us that which is Contumacious: It delivers the Mind from the Bondage of the Body; and raises it up to the Contemplation of its Divine Original. Honours, Monuments, and all the works of Vanity, and Ambition are demolished and Destroyed by Time; but, the Reputation of Wisdom is venerable to Posterity, and those that were envied, or neglected in their Lives, are adored in their Memories; and exempted from the very Laws of Created Nature, which has set bounds to all other things. The very shadow of Glory carries a Man of Honour upon all dangers, to the Contempt of Fire, and Sword, and it were a shame, if Right Reason should not inspire as generous Resolutions into a Man of Virtue.  
NEITHER is Philosophy only 
b One Wise Man teaches another.  profitable to the Public, but one Wise Man helps another, even in the Exercise of their Virtues; and, the One has need of the Other, both for Conversation and Counsel; for, they Kindle a mutual Emulation in good Offices. We are not so perfect yet, but that many new things remain still to be found out, which will give us the reciprocal Advantages of Instructing one another. For, as one Wicked Man is Contagious to another; and, the more Vices are mingled, the worse it is; so is it on the Contrary with Good Men, and their Virtues. As Men of Letters are the most useful, and excellent of Friends, so are they the best of Subjects; as being better Judges of the Blessings they enjoy under a well-ordered Government; and of what they owe to the Magistrate, for their Freedom, and Protection. They are Men of Sobriety, and Learning, and free from Boasting, and Insolence; they reprove the Vice, without Reproaching the Person; for, they have learned to be Wise, without either Pomp, or Envy. That which we see in high Mountains, we find in Philosophers; they seem taller near hand then at a distance: They are raised above other Men, but their greatness is substantial. Nor do they stand upon the Tiptoe, that they may seem higher than they are, but content with their own stature, they reckon themselves tall enough when Fortune cannot reach them. Their Laws are short, and yet comprehensive too, for they bind all.  
IT is the Bounty of Nature that we live; but of Philosophy that 
b Philosophy teaches us to live well.  we live well; which is in truth a greater Benefit than Life itself. Not but that Philosophy is also the Gift of Heaven, so far, as to the Faculty, but not to the Science; for that must be the business of Industry. No Man is born Wise; but Wisdom and Virtue require a Tutor; though we can easily learn to be Vicious without a Master. It is Philosophy that gives us a Veneration for God; a Charity for our Neighbour, that teaches us our Duty to Heaven, and exhorts us to an Agreement one with another: It unmasks things that are terrible to us, assuages our Lusts, refutes our Errors, restrains our Luxury, Reproves our Avarice, and Works strangely upon Tender Natures. I could never hear Attalus, (says Seneca) upon the Vices of the Age, and the Errors of Life, without a compassion for Mankind; and in his discourses upon Poverty, there was something me thought that was more than Humane. More than we use, says he, is more than we need, and only a Burden to the Bearer. That saying of his put me out of countenance at the superfluities of my own fortune. And so in his Invectives against vain pleasures; he did at such a rate advance the felicities of a Sober Table, a Pure Mind, and a chaste Body, that a man could not hear him without a Love for Continence, and Moderation. Upon these Lectures of his ay denied myself for a while after, certain delicacies that I had formerly used: but in a short time I fell to them again; though so sparingly, that the Proportion came little short of a Total Abstinence.  
NOW to show 
e Youth is apt to take good Impressions.  you (says our Author) how much earnester my entrance upon Philosophy was, than my Progress; My Tutor Sotion gave me a wonderful kindness for Pythagoras; and after him, for Sextius. The former forbore shedding of Blood, upon his Metempsychosis; and put men in fear of it, lest they should offer violence to the souls of some of their departed friends, or relations. Whether (says he) there be a Transmigration or not; if it be true, there's no hurt in't; if false, there's frugality: and nothing's gotten by Cruelty neither, but the cozening a Wolf perhaps, or a Vulture of a Supper? Now Sextius abstained upon another Account; which was, that he would not have men inur'd to hardness of heart, by the Laceration, and tormenting of Living Creatures; beside that Nature had sufficiently provided for the Sustenance of Mankind, without Blood. This wrought so far upon me; that I gave over eating of flesh, and in one year, made it not only easy to me, but pleasant; My mind me thought was more at Liberty; (and I am still of the same Opinion) but I gave it over nevertheless, and the Reason was this: It was imputed as a Superstition to the jews, the forbearance of some sorts of flesh, and my Father brought me back again to my old custom, that I might not be thought tainted with their Superstition. Nay, and I had much ado to prevail upon my ●…elf to suffer it too. I make use of this Instance to show the Aptness of Youth to take good Impressions, if there be a friend at hand to press them. Philosophers are the Tutors of Mankind; if they have found out Remedies for the mind, it must be our part to apply them. I cannot think of Cato, Laelius, Socrates, Plato, without Veneration, their very names are Sacred to me. Philosophy is the health of the Mind; let us look to that health first, and in the Second place, to that of the Body: which may be had upon easier terms; for a strong Arm, a Robust Constitution, or the skill of procuring this, is not a Philosopher's Business. He does some things as a Wise man, and other things as he is a Man; and he may have strength of Body, as well as of Mind; but if he Runs, or Casts the Sledge, it were injurious to ascribe that to his Wisdom, which is Common to the greatest Fools. He studies rather to fill his Mind, than his Coffers; and he knows that Gold and Silver were mingled with dirt, till Avarice, or Ambition parted them. His Life is Ordinate, Fearless, Equal, Secure; he stands firm in all extremities, and bears the Lot of his Humanity with a Divine Temper. There's a great Difference betwixt the Splendour of Philosophy, and of Fortune; the one shines with an Original Light, the other with a borrowed one; beside, that it makes us Happy, and Immortal; for Learning shall outlive Palaces, and Monuments. The House of a Wise Man is safe, though narrow; there's neither Noise, nor Furniture in it; no Porter at the Door, nor any thing that is either Vendible, or Mercenary, nor any business for Fortune; For, she has nothing to do, where she has nothing to look after. This is the way to Heaven, which Nature has Chalked out, and it is both secure and pleasant; there needs no Train of Servants, no Pomp, or Equipage, to make good our Passage; no Money, or Letters of Credit, for expenses upon the Voyage; but, the Graces of an honest mind will serve us upon the way, and make us happy at our Journeys end.  
TO tell you my Opinion now of the 
f The Liberal Sciences are matter rather of Curiosity, than Virtue.  Liberal Sciences; I have no great esteem for any thing that terminates in Profit, or Money, and yet I shall allow them to be so far Beneficial, as they only prepare the Understanding, without detaining it. They are but the Rudiments of Wisdom; and only then to be learned, when the Mind is capable of nothing better; and the Knowledge of them is better worth the keeping, than the acquiring. They do not so much as pretend to the making of us Virtuous, but only to give us an aptitude of disposition to be so. The Grammarian's Business lies in a Syntax of Speech; or if he proceed to History, or the measuring of a Verse, he is at the end of his Line; but, What signifies a Congruity of Periods, the Computing of Syllables, or the modifying of Numbers, to the taming of our Passions, or the repressing of our Lusts? The Philosopher proves the Body of the Sun to be large, but for the true Dimensions of it, we must ask the Mathematician; Geometry, and Music, if they do not teach us to master our Hopes, and Fears, all the rest is to little purpose. What does it concern us, which was the Elder of the two, Homer, or Hesiod; or which was the taller, Helen, or Hecuba? We take a great deal of pains to trace Ulysses in his Wander: But, were it not time as well spent to look to ourselves, that we may not wander at all? Are not we ourselves tossed with tempestuous Passions; and both assaulted by terrible Monsters on the one hand, and tempted by Sirens on the other? Teach me my Duty to my Country, to my Father, to my Wife, to Mankind. What is it to me, whether Penelope was honest or no? Teach me to know how to be so myself, and to live according to that Knowledge. What am I the better for putting so many parts together in Music, and raising an harmony out of so many different Tones? Teach me to tune my Affections, and to hold Constant to myself. Geometry teaches me the Art of Measuring Acres; teach me to measure my Appetites, and to know when I have enough: teach me to divide with my Brother, and to rejoice in the Prosperity of my Neighbour. You teach me how I may hold my own, and keep my Estate; but I would rather learn how I may lose it all, and yet be contented. 'Tis hard, you'll say, for a Man to be forced from the Fortune of his Family. This Estate, 'tis true, was my Fathers; but, Whose was it in the time of my Great-Grandfather? I do not only say, What Man's was it? but, What Nations? The ginger tells me of Saturn, and Mars in Opposition; but I say, let them be as they will, their Courses and their Positions are ordered them by an Unchangeable Decree of Fate. Either they produce, and point out the Effects of all things, or else they signify them: If the former; What are we the better for the Knowledge of that, which must of necessity come to pass? If the latter, What does it avail us, to foresee what we cannot avoid? so that whether we know, or not know the event will still be the same.  
HE that designs the Institution of Humane Life, should not 
g 'Tis not for the Dignity of a Philosopher to be curious about words  be overcurious of his Words; It does not stand with his dignity to be solicitous about Sounds and Syllables, and to debase the Mind of Man with small and trivial things: placing Wisdom in Matters that are rather difficult, than great. If ●…e be Eloquent, 'tis his Good Fortune, not his Business. Subtle Disputations are only the sport of Wits, that play upon the Catch; and are fitter to be contemned, then resolved. Were not I a Madman to sit wrangling about Words, and putting of Nice, and Impertinent Questions, when the Enemy has already made a Breach, the Town fired over my head, and the Mine ready to play, that shall blow me up into the Air? Were this a time for fooleries? Let me rather fortify myself against Death, and Inevitable Necessities; let me understand, that the good of Life does not consist in the Length, or Space, but in the Use of it. When I go to sleep, who knows whether ever I shall wake again? and, when I wake, whether ever I shall sleep again? When I go abroad, whether ever I shall come home again: and, when I return; whether ever I shall go abroad again. It is not at Sea only, that Life and Death are within a few Inches one of another; but they are as near every where else too, only we do not take so much notice of it. What have we to do with Frivolous, and Captious Questions, and Impertinent Niceties? Let us rather study how to deliver ourselves from Sadness, Fear, and the burden of all our Secret Lusts: Let us pass over all our most Solemn Levitieses, and make haste to a Good Life, which is a thing that Presses us. Shall a Man that goes for a Midwife, stand gaping upon a Post, to see what Play to day; or when his house is on Fire, stay the Curling of a Periwig before he calls for help? Our Houses are on fire, our Country invaded, our Goods taken away, our Children in danger, and, I might add to these, the Calamities of Earthquakes, Shipwrecks, and what ever else is most terrible. Is this a time for us now to be playing fast and loose with Idle Questions, which are, in effect, but so many unprofitable Riddles? Our Duty is, The Cure of the Mind, rather than the Delight on't; but we have only the Words of Wisdom, without the Works, and turn Philosophy into a Pleasure, that was given for a Remedy. What can be more ridiculous, then for a Man to neglect his Manners, and Compose his Style? We are Sick, and Ulcerous, and must be Lan●…'d, and Scarifyed, and every Man has as much Business within himself as a Physician in a Common Pestilence. Misfortunes, in fine, cannot be avoided, but they may be sweetened, if not overcome; and our Lives may be made happy by Philosophy.   

CHAP. V. The Force of Precepts.  
THERE seems to be so near an Affinity betwixt Wisdom, Philosophy, and Good Counsels, that it is rather Matter of Curiosity, then of Profit, to divide them: Philosophy being only a Limited Wisdom; and, Good Counsels, a Communication of that Wisdom, for the Good of Others, as well as of our Selves; and to Posterity, as well as to the Present. The Wisdom of the Ancients, as to the Government of Life, was no more, than certain Precepts, what to do, and what not; and Men were much Better in that Simplicity; for as they came to be more Learned, they grew less Careful of being Good. That plain, and Open Virtue, is now turned into a dark, and Intricate Science; and, we are taught to Dispute, rather than to Live. So long as Wickedness was simple, simple Remedies also were sufficient against it: But, now it has taken Root, and spread; we must make use of stronger.  
THERE are some Dispositions that embrace Good things as 
a The best of us are yet the better for Admonition, and Precept.  soon as they hear them; but they will still need quickening by Admonition, and Precept. We are Rash, and Forward in some Cases, and Dull in others; and there is no Repressing of the One humour, or Raising of the Other, but by removing the Causes of them; which are (in one Word) False Admiration, and False Fear. Every Man knows his Duty to his Country, to his Friends, to his Guests; and yet when he is called upon to Draw his Sword for the One, or to Labour for the Other, he finds himself distracted betwixt his Apprehensions, and his Delights: He knows well enough the Injury he does his Wife, in the keeping of a Wench; and yet his Lust overrules him; So that 'tis not enough to Give Good Advice, unless we can Take away that which hinders the Benefit of it. If a Man does what he Ought to do, he'll never do it Constantly, or Equally, without knowing Why he does it: And if it be only Chance, or Custom, he that does well by Chance, may do Ill so too. And further; A Precept may direct us what we Ought to do, and yet fall short in the Manner of Doing it: An Expensive Entertainment may, in One Case, be Extravagance, or Gluttony; and yet a Point of Honour, and Discretion in Another. Tiberius Caesar had a huge Mullet presented him, which he sent to the Market to be sold: And now (says he) my Masters (to some Company with him) you shall see, that either Apicius, or Octavius, will be the Chapman for this Fish: Octavius beat the Price, and gave about 30 l. Sterling for't. Now there was a great difference betwixt Octavius, that bought it for his Luxury, and the Other, that purchased it for a Compliment to Tiberius. Precepts are idle, if we be not first taught, what Opinion we are to have of the Matter in Question; Whether it be Poverty, Riches, Disgrace, Sickness, Banishment, etc. Let us therefore examine them one by one; not what they are Called, but what in Truth they Are. And so for the Virtues: 'Tis to no purpose to set a high esteem upon Prudence, Fortitude, Temperance, justice; if we do not first know what Virtue is: whether One, or More; or if he that has One, has All; or how they differ.  
PRECEPTS are of great Weight; and a few 
b The Power of Precepts, and Sentences.  Useful ones at hand, do more toward a Happy Life, than whole Volumes of Cautions, that we know not where to find. These Solitary Precepts should be our daily Meditation, for they are the Rules by which we ought to square our Lives. When they are contracted into Sentences, they strike the Affections; whereas Admonition is only blowing of the Coal; it moves the vigour of the Mind, and Excites Virtue: We have the Thing already, but we know not where it lies. It is by Precepts, that the Understanding is Nourished, and Augmented; the Offices of Prudence, and Justice, are Guided by them, and they lead us to the Execution of our Duties. A Precept delivered in Verse, has a much greater Effect, than in Prose; and those very People that never think they have enough; let them but hear a sharp Sentence against Avarice; How will they clap and admire it, and bid open Defiance to Money? So soon as we find the Affections struck, we must follow the Blow: not wish Syllogisms, or Quirks of Wit; but, with plain and weighty Reason: and, we must do it with Kindness too, and Respect; for▪ there goes a Blessing along with Counsels, and Discourses that are bend wholly upon the Good of the Hearer: And those are still the most Efficacious, that take Reason along with them; and tell us as well why we are to do this or that, as what we are to do▪ For, some Understandings are weak, and need an Instructor to expound to them what is Good, and what is Evil. It is a great Virtue to Love, to Give, and to follow Good Counsel; if it does not Led us to Honesty, it does at least Prompt us to't. As several Parts make up but one Harmony, and the most agreeable Music arises from Discords; so should a Wise Man gather many Arts, many Precepts, and the Examples of many Ages, to inform his own Life. Our Forefathers have left us in Charge to avoid three things; Hatred, Envy, and Contempt; now it is hard to avoid Envy, and not incur Contempt; for, in taking too much Care not to usurp upon others, we become many times liable to be trampled upon ourselves. Some People are afraid of others, because 'tis possible that others may be afraid of them: but, let us secure ourselves on all hands; For Flattery is as dangerous as Contempt. 'Tis not to say, in Case of Admonition, I knew this before: For, we know many things, but we do not think of them; so that 'tis the part of a Monitor not so much to Teach, as to Mind us of our Duties. Sometimes a Man oversees that which lies just under his Nose; otherwhile he is Careless, or pretends not to see it: We do all know, that Friendship is Sacred, and yet we violate it; and the greatest Libertine expects, that his own Wife should be honest.  
GOOD 
c Good Counsel is the best Service we can do to Mankind.  Counsel is the most needful service that we can do to Mankind, and if we give it to many, it will be sure to profit some: For, of many Trials, some or other will undoubtedly succeed. He that places a Man in the Possession of himself, does a great thing; for Wisdom does not show itself so much in Precept, as in Life; in a firmness of Mind, and a Mastery of Appetite: It Teaches us to Do, as well as to Talk; and to make our Words and Actions all of a Colour. If that Fruit be pleasantest which we gather from a Tree of our own Planting, How much a greater delight shall we take in the Growth, and Increase of Good Manners of our own Forming? It is an Eminent Mark of Wisdom for a Man to be always like himself. You shall have some that keep a thrifty Table, and lash out upon Building; Profuse upon themselves, and sordid to others; Niggardly at Home, and Lavish abroad. This Diversity is Vicious, and the Effect of a Dissatisfied, and uneasy Mind; whereas every Wise Man lives by Rule. This Disagreement of Purposes arises from hence, either that we do not propound to ourselves what we would be at; or if we do, that we do not pursue it, but pass from one thing to another: and we do not only change neither, but return to the very thing which we had both quitted, and condemned.  
IN all our 
d Three Points to be amined in all our Undertake.  Undertake, let us first examine our own strength; the Enterprise next, and Thirdly the Persons with whom we have to do. The first point is most Important; for, we are apt to over-value ourselves, and reckon, that we can do no more than indeed we can. One Man sets up for a Speaker, and is out, as soon as he opens his Mouth; another overcharges his Estate perhaps, or his Body: A Bashful Man is not fit for Public Business; some again are too Stiff, and Peremptory for the Court; many people are apt to fly out in their Anger, nay, and in a Frolic too, if any sharp thing fall in their way, they'll rather venture a Neck, than lose a Jest. These people had better be quiet in the World, than busy. Let him that is Naturally Choleric, and Impatient, avoid all Provocations, and those Affairs also, that Multiply, and draw on more; and those also from which there is no Retreat. When we may come off at pleasure, and fairly hope to bring our Matters to a Period, 'tis well enough. If it so happen, that a Man be tied up to Business, which he can neither loosen, nor break off; let him imagine those Shackles upon his Mind to be Irons upon his Legs: They are troublesome at first, but when there's no Remedy but Patience, Custom makes them easy to us, and Necessity gives us Courage. We are all Slaves to Fortune; some only in loose and Golden Chains, others in straight ones, and Courser: Nay, and they that bind us, are slaves too themselves; some to Honour, others to Wealth, some to Offices, others to Contempt, some to their Superiors, others to Themselves; Nay Life itself is a servitude: Let us make the best on't then, and with our Philosophy mend our Fortune. Difficulties may be softened, and heavy Burdens Disposed of to our ease. Let us Covet nothing out of our Reach, but content ourselves with things hopeful, and at hand; and without Envying the Advantages of others: For Greatness stands upon a Craggy Precipice, and 'tis much Safer, and Quieter living upon a Level. How many Great Men are forced to keep their Station upon mere Necessity; because they find, there's no coming down from it but headlong. These Men should do well to fortify themselves against ill Consequences, by such Virtues, and Meditations as may make them less solicitous for the future. The surest Expedient in this Case is to bond our Desires, and to leave nothing to Fortune which we may keep in our own power. Neither will this Course wholly compose us, but it shows us, at worst, the end of our troubles.  
IT is a main point to take Care, that we Propose 
e Propose nothing, but what is Hopeful and Honest.  nothing but what is Hopeful, and Honest. For it will be equally troublesome to us, either not to succeed, or to be ashamed of the success. Wherefore, let us be sure not to admit any Ill Design into our heart; that we may lift up pure hands to Heaven, and Ask nothing which another shall be a Loser by. Let us Pray for a Good Mind, which is a Wish to no Man's Injury. I will Remember always that I am a Man, and then consider, that if I am Happy, it will not last Always; if Unhappy, I may be other if I please. I will carry my Life in my Hand, and deliver it up readily when it shall be called for: I will have a Care of being a Slave to myself, for it is a Perpetual, a Shameful, and the Heaviest of all Servitudes; And, this may be done by moderate Desires. I will say to my ●…elf, What is it that I Labour, Sweat, and Solicit for, when it is but very little that I want, and it will not be long that I shall need any thing. He that would make Trial of the Firmness of his Mind, let him set certain days apart for the Practice of his Virtues. Let him Mortify himself with Fasting, Course clothes, and hard Lodging; and then say to himself; Is this the thing now that I was afraid of? In a State of Security a Man may thus prepare himself against Hazards, and in Plenty, fortify himself against Want. If you will have a Man Resolute when he comes to the Push, train him up to't beforehand. The Soldier does Duty in Peace, that he may be in breath when he comes to a Battle. How many Great, and Wise Men, have made Experiment of their Moderation by a practice of Abstinence, to the highest degree of Hunger, and Thirst; and convinced themselves, that a Man may fill his Belly, without being beholden to Fortune; which never denies any of us wherewith to satisfy our Necessities, though she be never so Angry: It is as easy to suffer it always, as to try it once; and it is no more than Thousands of Servants, and Poor People do every day of their Lives. He that would live Happily, must neither trust to Good Fortune, nor Submit to Bad: He must stand upon his Guard against all Assaults: He must stick to himself, without any dependence upon other People. Where the Mind is tinctured with Philosophy, there's no place for Grief, Anxiety, or Superfluous Vexations. It is prepossessed with Virtue, to the neglect of Fortune, which brings us to a degree of security not to be disturbed. 'Tis easier to give Counsel than to take it, and a Common thing for one Choleric Man to condemn another. We may be sometimes Earnest in Advising, but not Violent, or Tedious. Few words with Gentleness, and Efficacy are best: the misery is, that the Wise do not need Counsel, and Fools will not take it. A Good Man, 'tis true, delights in it; and it is a mark of Folly, and Ill Nature, to hate Reproof. To a Friend I would be always Frank and Plain; and rather fail in the Success, than be wanting in the Matter of Faith, and Trust. There are some Precepts that serve in Common, both to the Rich, and Poor, but they are too general; as, Cure your Avarice, and the work is done. It is one thing not to desire Money, and another thing not to understand how to use it. In the Choice of the Persons we have to do withal, we should see that they be worth our while: In the Choice of our Business we are to consult Nature, and follow our Inclinations. He that gives sober Advice to a Witty Droll, must look to have every thing turned into Ridicule. As if you Philosophers (says Marcellinus) did not love your Whores, and your Guts, as well as other people; and then he tells you of such and such that were taken in the Manner. We are all sick, I must confess, and it is not for sick Men to play the Physicians; but, it is yet Lawful for a Man in an Hospital to discourse of the Common Condition, and Distempers of the Place. He that should pretend to teach a Mad Man how to Speak, Walk, and behave himself, Were not he the Madder Man of the two? He that directs the Pilot makes him move the Helm; order the Sails so or so, and make the best of a scant Wind, after this or that manner. And so should we do in our Counsels. Do not tell me what a Man should do in Health, or Poverty, but show me the way to be either Sound, or Rich. Teach me to Master my Vices: For, 'tis to no purpose so long as I am under their Government, to tell me, what I must do when I am clear of it. In Case of an Avarice a little eased, a Luxury Moderated, a Temerity Restrained, a Sluggish Humour quickened; Precepts will then help us forward, and tutor us how to behave ourselves. It is the first, and the main Tie of a Soldier, his Military Oath, which is an Engagement upon him both of Religion and Honour In like manner, he that pretends to a Happy Life, must first lay a Foundation of Virtue, as a Bond upon him, to Live and Dye true to that Cause. We do not find Felicity in the Veins of the Earth, where we dig for Gold, nor in the Bottom of the Sea, where we fish for Pearl; but in a pure, and untainted Mind, which, if it were not Holy, were not fit to entertain the Deity. He that would be truly Happy, must think his own Lot best, and so live with men, as considering that God sees him, and so speak to God, as if Men heard him.   

CHAP. VI No Felicity like Peace of Conscience.  
A GOOD Conscience is the Testimony of a Good Life, and the Reward of it. This is it that fortifies the Mind against Fortune, when a Man has gotten the Mastery of his Passions; placed his Treasure, and his Security, within himself; Learned to be Content with his Condition, and that Death is no Evil in itself, but only the End of Man. He that has dedicated his Mind to Virtue, and to the Good of Humane Society, whereof he is a Member, has consummated all that is either Profitable, or Necessary for him to Know, or Do, toward the Establishment of his Peace. Every Man has a Judge, and a Witness within himself, of all the Good, and Ill that he Does; which inspires us with great Thoughts, and Administers to us wholesome Counsels. We have a Veneration for all the Works of Nature, the Heads of Rivers, and the Springs of Medicinal Waters: the Horrors of Groves and of Caves, strike us with an Impression of Religion, and Worship. To see a Man Fearless in Dangers, untainted with Lusts, Happy in Adversity, Composed in a Tumult, and Laughing at all those things which are generally either Coveted, or Feared; all Men must acknowledge, that this can be nothing else but a Beam of Divinity that Influences a Mortal Body. And this it is that carries us to the Disquisition of things Divine, and Humane; What the State of the World was before the Distribution of the First Matter into Parts; what Power it was that drew Order out of that Confusion, and gave Laws both to the whole, and to every Particle thereof; What that space is beyond the World; and whence proceed the several operations of Nature. Shall any Man see the Glory, and Order of the Universe; so many scattered Parts, and Qualities wrought into one Mass; such a Medley of things, which are yet Distinguished; the World enlightened, and the Disorders of it so wonderfully Regulated, and, Shall he not consider the Author, and Disposer of all This; and, whither we ourselves shall go, when our Souls shall be delivered from the Slavery of our Flesh? The whole Creation, we see, conforms to the Dictate of Providence, and follows God both as a Governor, and as a Guide. A Great, a Good, and a Right Mind is a kind of Divinity lodged in Flesh, and may be the Blessing of a Slave, as well as of a Prince; it came from Heaven, and 〈◊〉 Heaven it must return; and, it is a kind of Heavenly Felicity, which a pure, and virtuous Mind enjoys, in some Degree, even upon Earth: Whereas Temples of Honour are but empty Names, which probably owe their Beginning either to Ambition, or to Violence. I am strangely transported with the thoughts of Eternity; Nay, with the Belief of it; for I have a profound Veneration for the Opinions of Great Men, especially when they promise things so much to My satisfaction: for they do Promise them, though they do not Prove them. In the Question of the Immortality of the Soul, it goes very far with me, a General Consent to the Opinion of a Future Reward, and Punishment: which Meditation raises me to the Contempt of this Life, in Hope of a Better. But still, though we know that we have a Soul, yet, What that Soul is, How, and from Whence; we are utterly Ignorant: This only we understand, that all the Good, and Ill we do, is under the Dominion of the Mind; that a Clear Conscience States us in an Inviolable Peace: And, that the greatest Blessing in Nature, is that, which every honest Man may bestow upon himself. The Body is but the Clog, and Prisoner of the Mind, tossed up and down, and Persecuted with Punishments, Violences, and Diseases; but the Mind itself is Sacred, and Eternal, and exempt from the Danger of all Actual Impressions.  

a Every man's Conscience is his judge.  PROVIDED that we look to our Consciences, no matter for Opinion: Let me Deserve Well, though I Hear iii. The Common People take Stomach, and Audacity, for the Marks of Magnanimity, and Honour; and, if a Man be Soft, and Modest, they look upon him as an easy Fop; but, when they come once to observe the Dignity of his Mind, in the Equality, and Firmness of his Actions; and that his External Quiet is founded upon an Internal Peace, the very same People have him in Esteem, and Admiration. For, there is no Man but Approves of Virtue, though but few Pursue it; we see where it is, but we dare not venture to come at it: And the Reason is, we over-value that which we must quit to obtain it. A good Conscience fears no Witnesses, but a Guilty Conscience is solicitous, even in solitude. If we do nothing but what is Honest, let all the World know it; but if otherwise, What does it signify to have no body else know it, so long as I know it myself? Miserable is he that slights that Witness! Wickedness, 'tis true, may scape the Law, but not the Conscience: For, a Private Conviction is the First, and the Greatest Punishment of Offenders; so that Sin plagues itself; and the Fear of Vengeance pursues even those that scape the stroke of it. It were ill for Good Men that Iniquity may so easily evade the Law, the Judge, and the Execution, if Nature had not set up Torments, and Gibbets, in the Consciences of Transgressor's. He that is Guilty, lives in perpetual Terror; and while he expects to be punished, he punishes himself: and, whosoever Deserves it, Expects it. What if he be not Detected? He is still in Apprehension yet, that he may be so. His sleeps are Painful, and never Secure; and he cannot speak of another Man's Wickedness, without thinking of his own; whereas a good Conscience is a Continual Feast. Those are the only Certain, and Profitable Delights, which arise from the Conscience of a well-Acted Life: No matter for Noise Abroad, so long as we are Quiet Within: but, if our Passions be Seditious, that's enough to keep us Waking, without any other Tumult. It is not the Posture of the Body, or the Composure of the Bed, that will give rest to an Uneasy Mind: There is an Impatient sloth, that may be roused by Action, and the Vices of Lazyness must be Cured by Business. True Happiness is not to be found in the Excesses of Wine, or of Women, nor in the Largest Prodigality's of Fortune: What she has given me she may take away; but she shall not Tear it from me; and, so long as it does not grow to me, I can part with it without pain. He that would perfectly know himself, let him set aside his Money, his Fortune, his Dignity, and examine himself Naked; without being put to learn from others the Knowledge of himself.  
IT is dangerous for a Man too suddenly, or too easily, to believe 
b Let every Man Examine himself.  himself. Wherefore let us Examine, Watch, Observe, and Inspect our own hearts; for, we ourselves are our own greatest Flatterers: We should every Night call ourselves to an Account, What Infirmity have I Mastered to day? What Passion Opposed? What Temptation resisted? What Virtue Acquired. Our Vices will abate of themselves, if they be brought every day to the Shrift. Oh the Blessed sleep that follows such a Diary! Oh the Tranquillity, Liberty, and Greatness of that Mind, that is a Spy upon itself; and a private Censor of its own Manners! It is my Custom (says our Author) every Night, so soon as the Candle is out, to run over all the Words, and Actions of the past day; and I let nothing scape me; for, Why should I fear the Sight of my own Errors, when I can Admonish, and Forgive myself? I was a little too hot in such a Dispute: my Opinion might have been as well spared, for it gave Offence, and did no good at all. The thing was true; but all truths are not to be spoken at all times. I would I had held my tongue, for, there's no contending either with Fools, or our Superiors. I have done Ill; but it shall be so no more. If every Man would but thus look into himself, it would be the better for us all. What can be more Reasonable than this Daily Review of a Life that we cannot warrant for a Moment? Our Fate is set, and the first breath we draw, is only the first Motion toward our last: One 'Cause depends upon another; and the Course of all things, Public and Private, is but a long connexion of Providential Appointments. There is a great variety in our Lives, but all tends to the same Issue. Nature may use her own Bodies as she pleases; but, a Good Man has this Consolation, that nothing perishes which he can call his own. 'Tis a great Comfort, that we are only condemned to the same Fate with the Universe; the Heavens themselves are Mortal as well as our Bodies; Nature has made us Passive; and to Suffer is our Lot. While we are in Flesh, every Man has his Chain, and his Clog; only it is loser, and lighter to one Man than to another; and he is more at ease that takes it up, and Carries it, than he that Drags it. We are Born to Lose, and to Perish; to Hope, and to Fear; to Vex ourselves, and others; and there is no Antidote against a Common Calamity, but Virtue; For, the Foundation of true joy is in the Conscience.   

CHAP. VII. A Good Man can never be Miserable, nor a Wicked Man Happy.  
THERE is not in the Scale of Nature a more Inseparable Connexion of Cause, and Effect, than in the Case of Happiness, and Virtue: Nor any thing that more naturally produces the One, or more Necessarily presupposes the Other. For, What is it to be Happy, but for a Man to content himself with his Lot, in a Cheerful, and Quiet Resignation to the Appointments of God? All the Actions of our Lives ought to be Governed with a respect to Good, and Evil: And, it is only Reason that distinguishes: by which Reason we are in such manner Influenced, as if a Ray of the Divinity were dipped in a Mortal Body; and that's the Perfection of Mankind. 'Tis true, we have not the Eyes of Eagles, or the Sagacity of Hounds; Nor if we had, could we pretend to value ourselves upon any thing which we have in Common with Brutes. What are we the better for that which is Foreign to us, and may be given, and taken away? As the Beams of the Sun irradiate the Earth, and yet Remain where they were, so is it, in some proportion, with a Holy Mind, that Illustrates all our Actions, and yet adheres to its Original. Why do we not as well commend a Horse for his glorious Trappings, as a Man for his Pompous Additions? How much a braver Creature is a Lion (which by Nature ought to be Fierce, and Terrible) How much braver (I say) in his Natural Horror, than in his Chains? so that every thing in its pure Nature pleases us best. It is not Health, Nobility, Riches, that can Justify a Wicked Man; nor is it the want of all these that can discredit a Good one. That's the Sovereign Blessing, which makes the Possessor of it valuable without any thing else, and him that wants it Contemptible, though he had all the World besides. 'Tis not the Painting, Gild, or Carving that makes a good Ship; but, if she be a Nimble Sailor, Tied, and Strong, to endure the Seas, that's her Excellency. 'Tis the Edge, and Temper of the Blade that makes a good Sword; not the Richness of the Scabbard: and so 'tis not Money, or Possessions that make a Man Considerable, but his Virtue.  
IT is every Man's Duty to make himself Profitable to Mankind: If he can, to Many; if not, to 
a A Good Man makes himself profitable to Mankind.  Fewer: If not so neither, to his Neighbours; but however to Himself. There are Two Republics, a Great one, which is Humane Nature; and a Less, which is the Place where we were Born: Some serve Both at a time; some only the Greater, and some again only the Less: The Greater may be served in Privacy, Solitude, Contemplation, and perchance that way better than any other: but, it was the Intent of Nature however, that we should serve Both▪ A Good Man may serve the Public, his Friend, and Himself, in any Station: If he be not for the Sword, let him take the Gown; If the Bar does not agree with him, let him try the Pulpit; If he be Silenced Abroad, let him give Counsel at Home; and discharge the Part of a Faithful Friend, and a Temperate Companion. When he is no longer a Citizen, he is yet a Man; the whole World is his Country, and Humane Nature never wants Matter to Work upon: But, if nothing will serve a Man in the Civil Government, unless he be Prime Minister; or in the Field, but to Command in Chief, 'tis his own fault. The Common Soldier, where he cannot use his Hands, sights with his very Looks; his Example, his Encouragement, his Voice: and stands his Ground even when he has lost his hands; and does Service too with his very Clamour; so that in any Condition whatsoever, he still discharges the Duty of a Good Patriot. Nay, he that spends ●…his time well, even in a Reti●…ement, gives a great Example: We may enlarge indeed, or Contract, according to the Circumstances of Time, Place, or Abilities; but above all things, we must be sure to keep ourselves in Action; For, he that is slothful is dead even while he lives. Was there ever any State so desperate, as that of Athens under the Thirty Tyrants; where it was Capital to be Honest; and the Senate House was turned into a College of Hangmen? never was any Government so wretched, and so hopeless; and yet Socrates at the same time Preached Temperance to the Tyrants, and Courage to the Rest: and afterward died an Eminent Example of Faith, and Resolution, and a Sacrifice for the Common Good.  
IT is not for a Wise Man to stand 
b The Injuries of Fortune do not affect the Mind.  shifting, and ●…encing with Fortune, but to oppose her barefaced; for, he is sufficiently convinced, that she can do him no hurt. She may take away his Servants, Possessions, Dignity; assault his Bo●…, put out his Eyes, cut off his Hands, and strip him of all the External Comforts of Life. But, What does all this amount to, more than the recalling of a Trust, which he has received, with Condition to deliver it up again upon Demand? He looks upon himself as Precarious, and only Lent to himself; and yet he does not value himself ever the less, because he is not his Own, but takes such care as an Honest Man should do, of a thing that is committed to him in Trust. Whensoever he that lent me myself, and what I have, shall call for all back again, 'tis not a Loss, but a Restitution; and I must willingly deliver up what most undeservedly was bestowed upon me: And, it will become me to return my Mind better than I received it.  
DEMETRIUS', upon the taking of Megara, asked Stilpo 
c A Generous Instance of a Constant Mind.  the Philosopher what he had lost. Nothing, says he, for I have all that I could call my own about me. And yet the Enemy had then made himself the Master of his Patrimony, his Children, and his Country: But these he looked upon only as Adventitious Goods, and under the Command of Fortune: Now he that neither lost any thing, nor feared any thing in a Public Ruin, but was safe, and at Peace, in▪ the Middle of the Flames, and in the Heat of a Military Intemperance, and Fury; What Violence, or Provocation imaginable can put such a Man as This out of the Possession of himself? Walls, and Castles may be Mined, and Battered; but there is no Art, or Engine, that can subvert a Steady Mind. I have made my way (says Stilpo) through Fire, and Blood; what is become of my Children, I know not; but these are Transitory Blessings, and Servants that are condemned to Change their Masters; What was my Own Before, is my Own Still: Some have lost their Estates; others their Dear-bought Mistresses; their Commissions, and Offices; the Usurers have lost their Bonds, and Securities; but, Demetrius, for my Part, I have saved All: And, do not imagine, after all this, either that Demetrius is a Conqueror; or that Stilpo is overcome: 'tis only Thy Fortune has been too hard for Mine. Alexander took Babylon; Scipio took Carthage; the Capitol was Burnt: but, there's no Fire, or Violence that can discompose a Generous Mind. And, let us not take this Character neither for a Chimaera; for all Ages afford some, though not many Instances, of this Elevated Virtue. A Good Man does his Duty, let it be never so painful, so hazardous, or never so great a loss to him; and, it is not all the Money, the Power, and the Pleasure in the World; no not any Force, or Necessity, that can make him Wicked: He considers what he is to Do, not what he is to Suffer, and will keep on his Course, though there should be nothing but Gibbets, and Torments in the way. As in this Instance of Stilpo; who, when he had lost his Country, his Wife, his Children; the Town on Fire over his head, and Himself scaping hardly, and naked, out of the Flames; I have saved all my Goods; (says he) my justice, my Courage, my Temperance, my Prudence; accounting nothing his Own, or Valuable; and showing how much easier it was to overcome a Nation, than one Wise Man. It is a Certain Mark of a Brave Mind, not to be moved by any Accidents: The upper Region of the Air admits neither Clouds, nor Tempests; The Thunder, Storms, and Meteors, are formed Below; and this is the Difference betwixt a Mean, and an Exalted Mind: The Former is Rude, and Tumultuary; the Latter is Modest, Venerable, Composed, and always Quiet in its Station. In brief; It is the Conscience that pronounces upon the Man, whether he be Happy or Miserable. But, though Sacrilege, and Adultery, be Generally condemned, How many are there still that do not so much as Blush at the One; and, in truth, that take a Glory in the Other? For, nothing is more Common, than for Great Thiefs to ride in Triumph, when the little ones are punished. But, Let Wickedness scape, as it may, at the Bar, it never fails of doing justice upon itself; for, every Guilty Person is his own Hangman.   

CHAP VIII. The Due Contemplation of Divine Providence is the Certain Cure of all Misfortunes.  
WHOEVER observes the World, and the Order of it, will find all the Motions in it to be only a Vicissitude of Falling, and Rising; Nothing extinguished, and even those things which seem to us to Perish, are in truth but Changed. The seasons Go, and Return; Day, and Night follow in their Courses; The Heavens Roul, and Nature goes on with her Work: All things succeed in their Turns; Storms, and Calms; the Law of Nature will have it so, which we must follow, and obey; accounting all things that are done to be well done: So that what we cannot Mend, we must Suffer, and wait upon Providence without Repining: It is the part of a Cowardly Soldier to follow his Commander, Groaning; but, a Generous Man delivers himself up to God without struggling, and it is only for a Narrow Mind to condemn the Order of the World; and to propound rather the mending of Nature, than of Himself. No Man has any Cause of Complaint against Providence, if that which is Right pleases him. Those Glories that appear fair to the Eye, their Lustre is but false, and superficial; and they are only Vanity, and Delusion: They are rather the Goods of a Dream, than a Substantial Possession; they may Cozen us at a Distance, but bring them once to the Touch, they are Rotten and Counterfeit. There are no greater wretches in the World, than many of those which the People take to be Happy; Those are the only true, and Incorruptible Comforts, that will abide all Trials; and the more we turn, and examine them, the more valuable we find them; and, The greatest Felicity of all, is not to stand in need of Any? What's Poverty? No Man lives so poor as he was born. What's Pain? It will either have an end itself, or make an end of us. In short; Fortune has no Weapon that reaches the Mind: But the Bounties of Providence are Certain, and Permanent Blessings; and they are the Greater, and the Better, the longer we consider them: That is to say, The Power of contemning things Terrible, and despising what the Common People Covet. In the very Methods of Nature, we cannot but observe the Regard that Providence had to the Good of Mankind, even in the Disposition of the World, in providing so amply for our Maintenance, and Satisfaction. It is not possible for us to Comprehend what that Power is, which has made all things: Some few sparks of that Divinity are discovered, but infinitely the greater part of it lies hid. We are all of us however so far agreed; First, in the Acknowledgement and Belief of that Almighty Being; and Secondly; that we are to ascribe to it, all Majesty, and Goodness.  
IF there be a Providence, say some, 
a How comes it that Good Men are Afflicted in this World, and Wicked Men Prosper.  How comes it to pass, that good Men labour under Affliction, and Adversity; and Wicked Men enjoy themselves in Ease and Plenty? My Answer is, That God deals by Us as a good Father does by his Children; he Tries us, he Hardens us, and Fits us for Himself. He keeps a strict hand over those that he loves, and by the rest he does as we do by our slaves; he lets them go on in Licence and Boldness. As the Master gives his most hopeful Scholars the hardest Lessons, so does God deal with the most Generous Spirits; and the Cross Encounters of Fortune, we are not to look upon as a Cruelty, but as a Contest: The Familiarity of Dangers brings us to the Contempt of them, and that part is strongest which is most exercised: the Seaman's Hand is Callous, the Soldiers Arm is Strong, and the Tree that is most exposed to the Wind, takes the best Root: Those People that live in a perpetual Winter, in extremity of Frost, and Penury, where a Cave, a Look of Straw, or a few Leaves is all their Covering, and wild Beasts their Nourishment; All this by Custom is not only made tolerable, but when 'tis once taken up upon necessity, by little and little it becomes pleasant to them. Why should we then account that Condition of Life a Calamity, which is the Lot of many Nations? There is no State of Life so miserable, but there are in it Remissions, Diversions; nay, and Delights too; such is the Benignity of Nature toward us, even in the severest Accidents of Humane Life. There were no Living, if Adversity should hold on as it begins, and keep up the Force of the First Impression. We are apt to Murmur at many things as great Evils, that have nothing at all of Evil in them beside the Complaint; which we should more reasonably take up against ourselves. If I be Sick, 'tis part of my Fate; and for other Calamities they are usual Things; they Ought to be; nay, which is more, they Must be, for they come by Divine Appointment. So that we should not only Submit to God, but Assent to him, and Obey him, out of Duty, even if there were no Necessity; All those terrible Appearances that make us Groan, and Tremble, are but the Tribute of Life; we are neither to Wish, nor to Ask, nor to Hope to scape them; For 'tis a kind of Dishonesty to pay a Tribute Unwillingly. Am I troubled with the Stone; or Afflicted with continual Losses? Nay, Is my Body in danger? All this is no more than what I Prayed for, when I Prayed for Old Age. All these things are as familiar in a Long Life, as Dust, and Dirt in a Long Way. Life is a Warfare; and, What Brave Man would not rather Choose to be in a Tent, than in a Shambles? Fortune does like a Swordman; She Scorns to Encounter a fearful Man: there's no Honour in the Victory, where there's no Danger in the Way to't: She tries Mucius by Fire; Rutilius by Exile; Socrates by Poison, Cato by Death. 'Tis only in Adverse Fortune, and in Bad Times, that we find great Examples. Mucius thought himself happier with his Hand in the Flame, than if it had been in the Bosom of his Mistress. Fabricius took more pleasure in eating the Roots of his own Planting, than in all the Delicacies of Luxury, and Expense. Shall we call Rutilius miserable, whom his very Enemies have adored? who, upon a Glorious, and a Public Principle, chose rather to lose his Country, than to return from Banishment? the only Man that denied any thing to Sylla the Dictator, who recalled him. Nor did he only refuse to come, but drew himself farther off: Let them, says he, that think Banishment a Misfortune, live slaves at Rome, under the Imperious Cruelties of Sylla: He that sets a Price upon the Heads of Senators, and after a Law of his own Institution against Cutthroats, becomes the greatest himself. Is it not better for a Man to live in Exile Abroad, than to be Massacred at Home. In suffering for Virtue, 'tis not the Torment, but the Cause that we are to Consider; and the more Pain, the more Renown. When any Hardship befalls us, we must look upon it as an Act of Providence, which many times suffers Particulars to be wounded for the Conservation of the whole: Beside that God Chastises some People under an Appearance of Blessing them, turning their Prosperity to their Ruin, as a Punishment for abusing his Goodness. And we are further to Consider, that many a Good Man is Afflicted, only to teach others to suffer; for we are born for Example: And likewise, that where Men are Contumacious, and Refractory, it pleases God many times to Cure greater Evils by Lesle, and to turn our Miseries to our Advantage.  
HOW many 
b Providence draws Good out of Evil.  Casualties, and Difficulties are there, that we dread, as insupportable Mischiefs, which, upon farther thoughts, we find to be Mercies, and Benefits? As Banishment, Poverty, Loss of Relations, Sickness, Disgrace? Some are Cured by the Lance; by Fire, Hunger, Thirst; taking out of Bones, Lopping of Limbs, and the like: Nor do we only Fear things that are many times Beneficial to us, but on the other side, we hanker after, and pursue things that are Deadly, and Pernicious: We are Poisoned in the very Pleasures of our Luxury; and betrayed to a Thousand Diseases, by the Indulging of our Palate. To lose a Child, or a Limb, is only to part with what we have received, and Nature may do what she pleases with her own. We are Frail ourselves, and we have received things Transitory: That which was given us, may be taken away; Calamity tries Virtue, as the Fire does Gold: Nay, he that lives most at ease, is only delayed, not dismissed, and his Portion is to come. When we are visited with Sickness, or other Afflictions, we are not to murmur as if we were ill used: It is a Mark of the General's Esteem, when he puts us upon a Post of Danger: We do not say, My Captain uses me Ill, but He does me Honour: And so should we say, that are commanded to encounter Difficulties, for this is our Case with God Almighty.  
WHAT was Regulus the worse, because Fortune made Choice of him for an Eminent Instance, 
c Calamity is the Trial of Virtue.  both of Faith, and Patience? He was thrown into a Case of Wood stuck with pointed Nails; so that which way soever he turned his Body, it rested upon his Wounds; his Eyelids were cut off, to keep him waking; and yet Maecenas was not happier upon his Bed, than Regulus upon his Torments. Nay, the World is not yet grown so wicked, as not to prefer Regulus before Maecenas: And, can any Man take That to be an Evil, of which, Providence accounted this brave Man worthy. It has pleased God (says he) to single me out for an Experiment of the Force of Humane Nature. No Man knows his own Strength, or Value, but by being put to the Proof. The Pilot is tried in a Storm; the Soldier in a Battle; the Rich Man knows not how to behave himself in Poverty: He that has lived in Popularity, and Applause, knows not how he would bear Infamy, and Reproach: Nor he that never had Children, how he would bear the Loss of them. Calamity is the Occasion of Virtue, and a Spur to a Great Mind. The very Apprehension of a Wound startles a Man when he first bears Arms, but an Old Soldier bleeds boldly; because he knows, that a Man may lose Blood, and yet win the Day. Nay, many times a Calamity turns to our Advantage; and Great Ruins have but made way to Greater Glories. The Crying out of Fire has many times quieted a Fray, and the Interposing of a wild Beast has parted the Thief, and the Traveller; for, we are not at leisure for Less Mischiefs, while we are under the Apprehension of Greater. One Man's Life is saved by a Disease; Another is Arrested, and taken out of the way, just when his House was falling upon his head.  
TO show now, that the Favours, or the 
d Accidents are neither Good nor Evil.  Crosses of Fortune; and the Accidents of Sickness, and of Health, are neither Good, nor Evil; God permits them indifferently both to Good, and Evil Men. 'Tis hard, you'll say, for a Virtuous Man to suffer all sorts of Misery, and for a Wicked Man, not only to go free, but to enjoy himself at pleasure. And, Is it not the same thing for Men of Prostituted Impudence, and Wickedness, to sleep in a whole skin, when Men of Honour, and Honesty, bear Arms, lie in the Trenches, and receive Wounds? Or for the Vestal Virgins to rise in the Night to their Prayers, when Common Strumpets lie stretching themselves in their Beds? We should rather say with Demetrius, If I had known the will of Heaven before I was called to't, I would have offered myself. If it be the Pleasure of God to take my Children, I have brought them up to that End: If my Fortune, any Part of my Body, or my Life, I would rather present it, than yield it up: I am ready to part with all, and to suffer all; for I know that nothing comes to pass, but what God appoints: Our Fate is Decreed, and things do not so much Happen, as in their due time Proceed, and every Man's Portion of Joy, and Sorrow is Predetermined.  
THERE is nothing falls amiss to a 
e Nothing that is properly Evil, can befall a Good Man.  Good Man, that can be charged upon Providence; for, Wicked Actions, Lewd Thoughts, Ambitious Projects, Blind Lusts, and Insatiable Avarice, against all These he is Armed by the Benefit of Reason: And, Do we expect now, that God should look to our Luggage too? (I mean our Bodies?) Democritus discharged himself of his Treasure, as the Clog, and Burden of his Mind. Shall we wonder then if God suffers that to befall a Good Man, which a Good Man sometimes does to himself? I lose a Son; and why not? when it may some time so fall out, that I myself may kill him. Suppose he be Banished by an Order of State: Is it not the same thing with a Man's Voluntary leaving of his Country, and never to return? Many Afflictions may befall a Good Man, but no Evil; for Contraries will never Incorporate: All the Rivers in the World are never able to Change the Taste, or Quality of the Sea. Prudence, and Religion are above Accidents; and draw Good out of every thing; Affliction keeps a Man in Ure, and makes him Strong, Patient, and Hardy. Providence treats us like a Generous Father, and brings us up to Labours, Toils, and Dangers; whereas the Indulgence of a Fond Mother makes us weak, and spiritless: God loves us with a Masculine Love, and turns us lose to Injuries, and Indignities: he takes delight to see a Brave and a Good Man Wrestling with Evil Fortune, and yet keeping himself upon his Legs, when the whole World is in disorder about him. And, Are not we ourselves delighted, to see a bold Fellow press with his Lance upon a Boar, or Lion? And the Constancy, and Resolution of the Action, is the Grace, and Dignity of the Spectacle. No Man can be Happy that does not stand firm against all Contingences; and say to himself in all Extremities, I should have been content, if it might have been so, or so; but, since 'tis otherwise determined, God will provide better. The more we struggle with our Necessities, we draw the Knot the harder, and the worse 'tis with us: And, the more the Bird Flaps, and Flutters in the Snare, the surer she is Caught: So that the best way is to submit, and lie still, under this double Consideration, That the Proceedings of God are Unquestionable; and his Decrees not to be resisted.   

CHAP. IX. Of Levity of Mind, and other Impediments of a Happy Life.  
NOW to Sum up what is already delivered, we have showed what Happiness is, and wherein it consists: That it is founded upon Wisdom and Virtue; for, we must first know what we Ought to do, and then Live according to that Knowledge: We have also discoursed the Helps of Philosophy, and Precepts toward a Happy Life: The Blessing of a Good Conscience; That a Good Man can never be Miserable, nor a Wicked Man Happy; nor any Man Unfortunate, that cheerfully submits to Providence. We shall now Examine, How it comes to pass, that when the certain Way to Happiness lies so fair before us, Men will yet steer their Course on the other side, which as Manifestly leads to Ruin.  
THERE are some that live without any 
a Impediments of Happiness.  Design at all; and only pass in the World like Straws upon a River; they do not Go, but they are Carried. Others only deliberate upon the Parts of Life, and not upon the Whole, which is a great Error, for there's no disposing of the Circumstances of it, unless we first propound the main Scope. How shall any Man take his Aim without a Mark? or, What wind will serve Him that is not yet resolved upon his Port? We Live as it were by Chance, and by Chance we are Governed. Some there are that Torment themselves afresh with the Memory of what is Past; Lord! What did I endure? Never was any Man in my Condition; every body gave me over; my very Heart was ready to break, etc. Others again Afflict themselves with the Apprehension of Evils to Come; and very ridiculously Both: For the One does not Now concern us, and the Other, not Yet; Beside that, there may be Remedies for Mischiefs likely to happen; for they give us warning by Signs, and Symptoms of their Approach. Let him that would be Quiet, take heed not to provoke Men that are in Power; but live without giving Offence; and if we cannot make all Great Men our Friends, it will suffice to keep them from being our Enemies. This is a thing we must avoid, as a Mariner would do a Storm. A Rash Seaman never considers what Wind blows, or what Course he steers; but runs at a Venture, as if he would brave the Rocks, and the Eddies: whereas he that is Careful, and Considerate, informs himself beforehand where the Danger lies, and what weather it is like to be: He consults his Compass, and keeps aloof from those places that are Infamous for Wrecks and Miscarriages. So does a Wise Man in the common business of Life; he keeps out of the Way from those that may do him hurt; but it is a point of Prudence not to let them take notice that he does it on purpose; for that which a Man shuns, he tacitly condemns. Let him have a care also of List'ners, Newsmongers, and Meddlers in other People's Matters; for their discourse is commonly of such things as are never Profitable, and most commonly Dangerous either to be spoken, or heard.  
LEVITY 
b Levity of Mind is a great Hindrance of our Repose.  of Mind is a great Hindrance of Repose, and the very Change of Wickedness is an Addition to the Wickedness itself; for it is Inconstancy added to Iniquity; We relinquish the thing we sought, and then we take it up again; and so divide our Lives between our Lusts, and our Repentances. From one Appetite we pass to another, not so much upon Choice, as for Change; and there is a Check of Conscience that casts a Damp upon all our Unlawful Pleasures; which makes us lose the Day in expectation of the Night, and the Night itself for fear of the Approaching Light▪ Some people are never at quiet; others are always so; and they are Both to blame; For that which looks like Vivacity, and Industry in the one, is only a Restlessness, and Agitation; and that which passes in the other for Moderation, and Reserve, is but a Drowsy, and an Unactive sloth. Let Motion, and Rest, both take their turns, according to the Order of Nature, which made both the Day, and the Night: Some are perpetually shifting from one thing to another: Others again make their whole Life but a kind of Uneasy sleep: Some lie tossing, and turning, till very weariness bring them to Rest; Others again I cannot so properly call Inconstant, as Lazy: there are many Proprieties, and Diversities of Vice; but, it is one never failing effect of it, to live Displeased. We do all of us labour under Inordinate Desires; we are either timorous, and dare not venture, or venturing, we do not succeed; or else we cast ourselves upon uncertain Hopes, where we are perpetually Solicitous, and in Suspense. In this distraction, we are apt to propose to ourselves things dishonest, and hard; and when we have taken great pains to no purpose, we come then to repent of our Undertake: We are afraid to go on, and we can neither Master our Appetites, nor obey them; We live, and die Restless, and Irresolute, and which is worst of all, when we grow weary of the Public, and betake ourselves to Solitude for Relief, our Minds are Sick, and Wallowing, and the very House and Walls are troublesome to us; we grow Impatient, and ashamed of ourselves; and suppress our Inward vexation till it breaks our heart for want of vent. This is it that makes us Sour, and Morose; Envious of others, and dissatisfied with ourselves: till at last, betwixt our Troubles for other People's Successes, and the Despair of our Own, we fall foul upon Fortune, and the Times; and get into a Corner, perhaps, where we sit brooding over our own Disquiets. In these Dispositions there is a kind of pruriginous Fancy that makes some people take delight in Labour, and Uneasiness, like the Clawing of an Itch till the blood starts.  
THIS is it that puts us upon rambling Voyages; one while by Sea, another while by Land; 
b Change of Place does no good without Change of Mind.  but still disgusted with the Present: The Town pleases us to day; the Country to Morrow; the Splendours of the Court at one time; the Horrors of a Wilderness at another; but all this while we carry our Plague about us; for 'tis not the place that we are weary of, but ourselves. Nay, our weakness extends to every thing, for we are Impatient equally of Toil, and of Pleasure. This Trotting of the Ring, and only treading the same steps over and over again, has made many a Man lay violent hands upon himself. It must be the Change of the Mind, not of the Climate, that will remove the Heaviness of the Heart; our Vices go along with us, and we carry in ourselves the Causes of our Disquiets. There's a great weight lies upon us, and the bare shocking of it makes it the more Uneasy; changing of Countries in this Case is not Travelling, but Wand'ring. We must keep on our Course if we would gain our Journeys end; He that cannot live Happily any where, will live happily no where. What is a Man the better for Travelling? as if his Cares could not find him out wherever he goes? Is there any retiring from the Fear of Death, or of Torments? or from those Difficulties which beset a Man wherever he is. It is only Philosophy that makes the Mind Invincible, and places us out of the Reach of Fortune; so that all her Arrows fall short of us. This is it that reclaims the Rage of our Lusts, and sweetens the Anxiety of our Fears. Frequent Changing of Places, or Counsels, shows an Instability of Mind; and we must fix the Body, before we can fix the Soul: We can hardly stir abroad, or look about us without encountering some thing or other that revives our Appetites. As he that would cast off an unhappy Love, avoids whatsoever may put him in Mind of the Person; so he that would wholly deliver himself from his Beloved Lusts, must shun all Objects that may put them in his head again, and remind him of them. We travel, as Children run up and down after strange sights, for Novelty, not Profit; we return neither the better nor the sounder; nay, and the very Agitation hurts us. We learn to call Towns, and Places by their Names, and to tell Stories of Mountains, and of Rivers: but, Had not our time been better spent in the Study of Wisdom, and of Virtue? In the Learning of what is already discovered, and in the Quest of things not yet found out? If a Man break his Leg, or strain his Ankle, he sends presently for a Surgeon to set all right again; and does not take Horse upon't, or put himself on Shipboard: No more does the Change of place work upon our Disordered Minds, than upon our Bodies. It is not the Place (I hope) that makes either an Orator, or a Physician. Will any Man ask upon the Road, Pray which is the way to Prudence, to Justice, to Temperance, to Fortitude? No matter whither any Man goes that carries his Affections along with him. He that would make his Travels delightful, must make himself a Temperate Companion. A great Traveller was complaining, That he was never the better for his Travels. That's very true, said Socrates, because you travelled with yourself. Now had not he better have made himself another Man, than to transport himself to another Place? 'Tis no matter what Manners we find any where, so long as we carry our own. But we have all of us a Natural Curiosity of seeing fine sights, and of making new discoveries; turning over Antiquities, Learning the Customs of Nations, etc. We are never quiet: To day we seek an Office; to morrow we are sick on't: We divide our Lives betwixt a dislike of the Present, and a desire of the Future; but, he that lives as he should, orders himself so as neither to fear, nor to wish for to morrow: If it comes, 'tis welcome, but if not, there's nothing lost; for, that which is to come is but the same over again that is past. As Levity is a pernicious Enemy to Quiet; so Pertinacity is a great one too. The One Changes Nothing; the Other Sticks to Nothing; and which of the two is the worse may be a question. It is many times seen, that we beg earnestly for those things, which if they were offered us we would refuse: And it is but just to punish this Easiness of Ask with an equal Facility of Granting. There are some things which we would be thought to desire, which we are so far from desiring, that we dread them. I shall tyre you (says one) in the Middle of a Tedious Story. No, pray be pleased to go on, we cry, though we wished his Tongue out at half way. Nay, we do not deal Candidly even with God himself. We should say to ourselves in these Cases, This have I drawn upon myself. I could never be quiet till I had gotten this Woman, this Place, this Estate, this Honour; and now see what's come on't.  
ONE Sovereign Remedy against all Misfortunes is 
c Constancy of Mind secures us in all Difficulties.  Constancy of Mind: the Changing of Parties, and Countenances looks as if a Man were driven with the Wind. Nothing can be above him that is above Fortune. It is not Violence, Reproach, Contempt, or whatever else from without, that can make a Wise Man quit his Ground: but he is Proof against all Calamities, both great and small: Only our Error is, that what we cannot do ourselves, we think no body else can, so that we judge of the Wise by the Measures of the Weak. Place me among Princes, or among Beggars; The One shall not make me Proud, nor the Other Ashamed: I can take as sound a sleep in a Barn, as in a Palace; and a Bottle of Hay makes me as good a Lodging, as a Bed of Down. Should every day succeed to my wish, it should not Transport me: Nor would I think myself Miserable, if I should not have one quiet hour in my whole Life. I will not transport myself with either Pain, or Pleasure; but yet for all that, I could wish that I had an easier Game to play; and that I were put rather to Moderate my Joys, than my Sorrows. If I were an Imperial Prince, I had rather Take, than be Taken: and yet I would bear the same Mind under the Chariot of my Conqueror that I had in my Own. It is no great matter to trample upon those things that are most coveted, or feared by the Common People. There are those that will laugh upon the Wheel; and cast themselves upon a Certain Death, only upon a Transport of Love, perhaps, Anger, Avarice, or Revenge: How much more than upon an Instinct of Virtue; which is Invincible, and Steady? If a short Obstinacy of Mind can do this; How much more shall a Composed, and a Deliberate Virtue; whose Force is equal, and perpetual?  
TO secure ourselves in this World; first we must aim at 
d The less we have to do with the World, the Better.  nothing that Men count worth the wrangling for: Secondly, We must not Value the Possession of any thing, which even a Common Thief would think worth the stealing. A Man's Body is no Booty. Let the way be never so dangerous for Robberies, the Poor, and the Naked pass quietly. A plaindealing sincerity of Manners makes a Man's Life Happy, even in despite of Scorn, and Contempt; which is every Clear Man's Fate. But we had better yet be Contemned for Simplicity, than lie perpetually upon the Torture of a Counterfeit. But then a Care must be taken not to confound Simplicity with Negligence; And it is moreover, an Uneasy Life, that of a disguise. For a Man to seem to be what he is not; to keep a perpetual Guard upon himself, and to live in fear of discovery: He takes every Man that looks upon him for a Spy; over and above the trouble of being put to play another Man's part. It is a good Remedy in some Cases for a Man to apply himself to Civil Affairs, and Public Business: and yet in this State of Life too, what betwixt Ambition, and Calumny; it is hardly safe to be Honest. There are indeed some Cases wherein a Wise Man will give way: but let him not yield over-easily neither: If he Marches off, let him have a care of his Honour; and make his Retreat with his Sword in his hand, and his Face to the Enemy. Of all others a Studious Life is the least tiresome; it makes us easy to ourselves, and to others, and gains us both Friends, and Reputation.   

CHAP X. He that sets up his Rest upon Contingencies, shall never be at Quiet.  
NEVER pronounce any Man Happy that depends upon Fortune for his Happiness; for nothing can be more preposterous, than to place the Good of a Reasonable Creature in Unreasonable Things. If I have lost any thing, it was Adventitious; and, the less Money, the less Trouble; the less Favour, the less Envy: Nay, even in those Cases that put us out of our Wits, it is not the Loss itself, but the Opinion of the Loss that troubles us. It is a Common Mistake to account those things Necessay that are superfluous, and to depend upon Fortune for the Felicity of Life, which arises only from Virtue. There is no trusting to her Smiles: the Sea Swells, and Rages in a moment; and the Ships are swallowed up at Night, in the very place where they sported themselves in the Morning. And Fortune has the Same Power over Princes, that it has over Empires; over Nations, that it has over Cities; and the same Power over Cities that it has over Private Men. Where's that Estate that may not be followed upon the heel with Famine, and Beggary? That Dignity, which the next Moment may not be laid in the Dust? That Kingdom that is secure from Desolation and Ruin? The Period of all things is at hand, as well that which casts out the Fortunate, as the other that delivers the Unhappy; and that which may fall out at any time, may fall out this very day. What shall come to pass I know not, but what may come to pass I know: So that I'll despair of Nothing, but expect every thing; and whatsoever Providence remits is clear Gain. Every moment, if it spares me, deceives me: and yet in some sort it does not deceive me; for though I know that any thing may happen; yet I know likewise that every thing will not. I'll hope the best, and provide for the worst. Methinks we should not find so much fault with Fortune for her Inconstancy, when we ourselves suffer a Change every moment that we live; only other Changes make more Noise, and this steals upon us like the shadow upon a Dial; every jote as certainly, but more Insensibly.  
THE Burning of Lions may serve to show 
a An Instance of the uncertainty of Humane Affairs in the Burning of Lions.  us, that we are never safe; and to arm us against all surprises. The Terror of it must needs be great, for the Calamity is almost without Example. If it had been fired by an Enemy, the Flame would have left some farther Mischief to have been done by the Soldiers: But to be wholly consumed, we have not heard of many Earthquakes so Pernicious: So many Rarities to be destroyed in one Night; and in the depth of Peace to suffer an Outrage beyond the Extremity of War, Who would believe it? But twelve hours betwixt so fair a City, and none at all: It was laid in Ashes in less time than it would require to tell the Story. To stand unshaken in such a Calamity is hardly to be expected; and our Wonder cannot but be equal to our Grief. Let this Accident teach us to provide against all Possibilities, that fall within the Power of Fortune; all External things are under her Dominion: One while she calls our Hands to her Assistance: another while she contents herself with her own Force, and destroys us with Mischiefs of which we cannot find the Author. No Time, Place, or Condition is excepted; she makes our very Pleasures Nauseous to us: she makes War upon us in the depth of Peace, and turns the means of our security into an occasion of Fear: She turns a Friend into an Enemy, and makes a Foe of a Companion: We suffer the Effects of War without an Adversary; and rather than fail, our Felicity shall be the Cause of our Destruction. Lest we should either Forget, or Neglect her Power, every day produces something Extraordinary. She persecutes the most Temperate with Sickness; the strongest Constitutions with the Pthisick; she brings the Innocent to Punishment, and the most retired she assaults with Tumults. Those Glories that have grown up with many Ages, with Infinite Labour, and Expense, and under the Favour of many Auspicious Providences, One Day Scatters, and brings to nothing. He that pronounced a Day, nay an hour sufficient for the destruction of the greatest Empire, might have fallen to a Moment. It were some Comfort yet to the Frailty of Mankind, and of Humane Affairs, if things might but decay as slowly as they rise; but they Grow by degrees, and they fall to ruin in an Instant. There's no Felicity in any thing either Private or Public: Men, Nations, and Cities have all their Fates, and Periods: Our very Entertainments are not without Terror, and our Calamity arises there where we lest expect it. Those Kingdoms that stood the shock both of Foreign Wars, and Civil, come to destruction without the sight of an Enemy. Nay, we are to dread our Peace, and Felicity, more than Violence, because we are there taken Unprovided; unless in a State of Peace we do the Duty of Men in War, and say to ourselves, Whatsoever May be, Will be. I am to day, Safe, and Happy▪ in the Love of my Country; I am to morrow, Banished: To day, in pleasure, peace, health; to Morrow, broken upon the Wheel, led in Triumph, and in the Agony of Sickness. Let us therefore prepare for a Shipwreck in the Port, and for a Tempest in a Calm. One Violence drives Me from my Country; another ravishes That from me; and that very Place where a Man can hardly pass this day for a Crowd, may be to Morrow a Desert. Wherefore, let us set before our Eyes the whole Condition of Humane Nature; and consider as well what May happen, as what commonly Does. The way to make future delights Easy to us in the Sufferance, is to make them Familiar to us in the Contemplation. How many Cities in Asia, Achaia, Assyria, Macedonia, have been swallowed up by Earthquakes! Nay, whole Countries are lost, and large Provinces laid under Water; but, time brings all things to an end, for all the Works of Mortals are Mortal: All Possessions, and their Possessors are Uncertain, and Perishable; and, What wonder is it to lose any thing at any time, when we must one day lose all?  
THAT which we 
b That which we call our Own, is but lent us.  call our Own is but lent us; and what we have received Gratis we must return without Complaint. That which Fortune gives us this hour, she may take away the next; and he that trusts to her Favours, shall either find himself deceived, or if he be not, he will at least be troubled because he may be so. There's no Defence in Walls, Fortifications, and Engines, against the Power of Fortune: we must provide ourselves within, and when we are safe There, we are Invincible; we may be Battered, but not Taken. She throws her Gifts among us, and we Sweat, and Scuffle for them; Never considering how few are the better for that which is expected by all. Some are transported with what they Get; Others tormented for what they Miss, and many times there's a Leg or an Arm broken in a Contest for a Counter. She gives us Honours, Riches, Favours, only to take them away again; either by Violence, or Treachery, So that they frequently turn to the damage of the Receiver. She throws out Baits for us, and sets Traps, as we do for Birds and Beasts; Her Bounties are Snares, and Lime-twigs to us; we think that we Take, but we are Taken. If they had any thing in them that were substantial, they would some time or other fill, and quiet us; but they serve only to provoke our Appetite, without any thing more than Pomp, and Show, to allay it. But the best of it is, if a Man cannot mend his Fortune, he may yet mend his Manners, and put himself so far out of her Reach, that whether she Gives, or Takes, it shall be all one to us; for we are never the Greater for the One, nor the Less for the Other. We call this a Dark Room, or That a Light One, when 'tis in itself neither the one, nor the other, but only as the Day, and the Night renders it. And so it is in Riches, Strength of Body, Beauty, Honour, Command; and likewise in Pain, Sickness, Banishment, Death; which are in themselves Middle, and Indifferent things, and only Good, or Bad, as they are Influenced by Virtue. To Weep, Lament, and Groan, is to renounce our Duty; and it is the same weakness on the other side to Exult, and Rejoice: I would rather Make my Fortune, than Expect it; being neither depressed with her Injuries, nor dazzled with her Favours. When Zeno was told that all his Goods were drowned; Why then, says he, Fortune has a Mind to make me a Philosopher. 'Tis a great Matter for a Man to advance his Mind above her Threats, or Flatteries; for he that has once gotten the Better of her, is safe for ever.  
IT is some Comfort yet to the Unfortunate, that Great Men lie under 
c Fortune spares neither Great, nor Small.  the Lash for Company; and that Death spares the Palace, no more than the Cottage; and that whoever is above Me, has a Power also above him. Do we not daily see Funerals without Trouble, Princes deposed, Countries depopulated, Towns sacked; without so much as thinking how soon it may be our own Case? Whereas, if we would but prepare, and arm ourselves against the Iniquities of Fortune, we should never be surprised. When we see any Man Banished, Beggared, Tortured, we are to account, that though the Mischief fell upon another, it was levelled at us. What wonder is it, if of so many Thousands of dangers, that are constantly hover about us, one comes to hit us at last? That which befalls any Man, may befall every Man: and then it breaks the force of a Present Calamity, to provide against the Future. Whatsoever our Lot is, we must bear it; as, suppose it be Contumely, Cruelty, Fire, Sword, Pains, Diseases, or a Prey to wild Beasts; there's no struggling, nor any Remedy but Moderation. 'Tis to no purpose to bewail any Part of our Life, when Life itself is miserable throughout; and the whole Flux of it only a Course of transition from one Misfortune to another. A Man may as well wonder, that he should be cold in Winter; Sick at Sea, or have his Bones clattered together in a Wagon, as at the Encounter of Ill Accidents, and Crosses in the Passage of Humane Life: And it is in vain to run away from Fortune, as if there were any Hiding place wherein she could not find us; or to expect any Quiet from her, for she makes Life a perpetual State of War, without so much as any Respite, or Truce. This we may conclude upon; that her Empire is but Imaginary, and that whosoever serves her makes himself a voluntary Slave; for the things that are often contemned by the Inconsiderate, and Always by the Wise, are in themselves neither Good, nor Evil: as Pleasure, and Pain; Prosperity, and Adversity; which can only operate upon our Outward Condition, without any Proper, and Necessary Effect upon the Mind.   

CHAP. XI. A Sensual Life is a miserable Life.  
THE Sensuality that we here treat of, falls naturally under the Head of Luxury; which extends to all the Excesses of Gluttony, Lust, Effeminacy of Manners; and, in short, to whatsoever concerns the overgreat Care of the Carcase.  
TO begin now with the Pleasures of the 
a The Excesses of Luxury are Painful, and Dangerous.  Palate; (which deal with us like Egyptian Thiefs, that strangle those they embrace) What shall we say of the Luxury of Nomentanus, and Apicius, that entertained their very Souls in the Kitchen? they have the Choicest Music for their Ears; the most diverting Spectacles for their Eyes; the Choicest variety of Meats, and Drinks for their Palates. What is all this (I say) but a Merry Madness? 'Tis true, they have their Delights, but not without Heavy, and Anxious Thoughts, even in their very Enjoyments; beside that, they are followed with Repentance, and their Frolicks are little more than the Laughter of so many people out of their Wits. Their Felicities are full of Disquiet, and neither Sincere, nor well-Grounded; but they have need of one Pleasure to support another, and of new Prayers to forgive the Errors of their Former. Their Life must needs be wretched, that Get with great Pains, what they Keep with greater. One Diversion overtakes another: Hope excites Hope; Ambition begets Ambition; so that they only change the Matter of their Miseries, without seeking any End of them, and shall never be without either prosperous, or unhappy Causes of Disquiet. What if a body might have all the Pleasures in the World for the Ask? Who would so much Unmann Himself, as by accepting of them, to desert his Soul, and become a Perpetual Slave to his Senses? Those False, and Miserable Palates, that Judge of Meats by the Price, and Difficulty, not by the Healthfulness, or Taste; They Vomit, that they may Eat, and they Eat that they may fetch it up again. They cross the Seas for Rarities, and when they have swallowed them, they will not so much as give them time to digest. Wheresoever Nature has placed Men, she has provided them Aliment: but we rather choose to Irritate Hunger by expense, than to Allay it at an Easier rate. What is it that we plow the Seas for; or Arm ourselves against Men, and Beasts? To what end do we Toil, and Labour, and pile bags upon bags? We may enlarge our Fortunes, but we cannot our Bodies; so that it does but spill, and run over, whatsoever we can take more than we can hold. Our Forefathers (by the Force of whose Virtues we are now supported in our Vices) lived every jote as well as we, when they provided, and dressed their own Meat with their own Hands; lodged upon the Ground, and were not as yet come to the vanity of Gold, and Gems: when they swore by their Earthen Gods, and kept their Oath though they died for't. Did not our Consuls live more Happily when they Cooked their own Meat with those Victorious Hands that had conquered so many Enemies, and won so many Laurels? Did they not live more Happily (I say) than our Apicius? (that Corrupter of Youth, and Plague of the Age he lived in) who, after he had spent a prodigious Fortune upon his Belly, Poisoned himself for fear of Starving, when he had yet 250 000. Crowns in his Coffers: Which may serve to show us, that it is the Mind, and not the Sum that makes any Man Rich: When Apicius with all this Treasure counted himself in a State of Beggary; and took Poison to avoid that Condition, which another would have Prayed for. But, Why do we call it Poison, which was the wholsomest Draught of his Life? His daily Gluttony was Poison rather, both to himself and others. His Ostentation of it was Intolerable; and so was the Infinite Pains he took to misled others by his Example, who went even fast enough of themselves without driving.  
IT is a shame for a Man to place his 
b If Sensuality were Happiness, Beasts were Happier than Men.  Felicity in those Entertainments, and Appetites that are stronger in Brutes. Do not Beasts eat with a better Stomach? Have they not more Satisfaction in their Lusts? And they have not only a quicker Relish of their Pleasures, but they enjoy them without either Scandal, or Remorse. If Sensuality were Happiness, Beasts were happier than Men; but Humane Felicity is lodged in the Soul, not in the Flesh. They that deliver themselves up to Luxury are still either tormented with too Little, or oppressed with too Much; and equally miserable, by being either deserted, or overwhelmed: They are like Men in a dangerous Sea; one while cast adry upon a Rock, and another while swallowed up in a Whirlpool; and all this, from the Mistake of not distinguishing Good from Evil. The Huntsman that with much Labour, and Hazard Takes a wild Beast, runs as great a Risque afterwards in the Keeping of him; for many times he tears out the Throat of his Master; and 'tis the same thing with Inordinate Pleasures; The more in Number, and the greater they are, the more General and Absolute a Slave is the Servant of them. Let the Common People pronounce him as Happy as they please, he pays his Liberty for his Delights, and sells himself for what he buys.  
LET any Man take a View of our 
c We have as many Diseases as Dishes.  Kitchens; the Number of our Cooks, and the Variety of our Meats; Will he not wonder to see so much Provision made for one Belly? We have as many Diseases as we have Cooks, or Meats; and the Service of the Appetite is the study now in Vogue. To say nothing of our Trains of lackeys; and our Troops of Caterers, and Sewers. Good God that ever one Belly should employ so many People. How Nauseous, and Fulsome are the Surfeits that follow these Excesses? Simple Meats are out of Fashion; and All are collected into One; so that the Cook does the Office of the Stomach; nay, and of the Teeth too, for the Meat looks as if it were chewed beforehand; Here's the Luxury of all Tastes in one Dish, and liker a Vomit, than a Soup. From these Compounded Dishes, arise Compounded Diseases, which require Compounded Medicines. It is the same thing with our Minds, that it is with our Tables; Simple Vices are Curable by Simple Counsels, but a General Dissolution of Manners is hardly overcome: We are overrun with a Public, as well as with a Private Madness. The Physicians of old understood little more than the Virtue of some Herbs to stop Blood, or heal a Wound: And their Firm and Healthful Bodies needed little more, before they were corrupted by Luxury and Pleasure: And, when it ●…ame to That once, their Business was not to Lay Hunger, but to Provoke it, by a thousand Inventions, and Sauces. That which was Aliment to a Craving Stomach, is become a Burden to a Full one. From hence come Paleness, trembling; and worse Effects from Crudities, than Famine: A Weakness in the Joints, the Belly Stretched, a Suffusion of Choler; the Torpor of the Nerves; and a Palpitation of the Heart. To say nothing of Meagrims, Torments of the Eyes, and Ears; Headache, Gouts, Scurvy; several Sorts of Fevers, and putrid Ulcers; with other Diseases that are but the Punishment of Luxury. So long as our Bodies were hardened with Labour, or tired with Exercise, or Hunting, our Food was Plain, and Simple; many Dishes have made many Diseases.  
IT is an Ill thing for a Man not to know the Measure of his Stomach; nor to consider, that Men do many things in their Drink, that they are ashamed of Sober; 
d Drunkenness is a Voluntary Madness.  Drunkenness being nothing else but a Voluntary Madness. It emboldens Men to do all sorts of Mischief; It both Irritates Wickedness, and Discovers it; It does not make Men Vicious, but it shows them to be so. It was in a Drunken Fit that Alexander killed Clitus. It makes him that is Insolent, Prouder; Him that is Cruel, Fiercer; It takes away all Shame. He that is Peevish breaks out Presently into Ill Words, and Blows. The Lecher, without any regard to Decency, or Scandal, turns up his Whore in the Marketplace. A Man's Tongue trips, his Head runs round; he Staggers in his Pace. To say nothing of the Crudities and Diseases that follow upon this Distemper. Consider the Public Mischiefs it has done: How many Warlike Nations, and Strong Cities, that have stood Invincible to Attaques, and Sieges, has Drunkenness overcome? Is it not a great Honour to drink the Company Dead? A Magnificent Virtue to Swallow more Wine than the rest, and yet at last to be outdone by a Hogshead? What shall we say of those Men that Invert the Offices of Day, and Night? As if our Eyes were only given us to make use of in the Dark: Is it Day? ' 'tis time to go to Bed. Is it Night? ' 'tis time to Rise; Is it toward Morning? Let us go to Supper. When other People lie down, they Rise; and lie till next Night to digest the Debauche of the day before. 'Tis an Argument of Clownery, to do as other People do. Luxury steals upon us by Degrees; First, it shows itself in a more than Ordinary Care of our Bodies; it slips next into the Furniture of our Houses; and it gets then into the Fabric, Curiosity, and Expense of the House itself. It appears lastly in the Fantastical Excesses of our Tables. We change, and shuffle our Meats; Confound our Sauces; Serve that in First, that use to be Last; and value our Dishes, not for the Taste, but for the Rarity. Nay, we are so delicate, that we must be told when we are to Eat, or Drink; when we are Hungry, or Weary; and we cherish some Vices, as Proofs, and Arguments of our Happiness. The most miserable of Mortals are they, that deliver themselves up to their Palates, or to their Lusts: The Pleasure is short, and turns presently Nauseous, and the End of it is either Shame, or Repentance. It is a Brutal Entertainment, and Unworthy of a Man, to place his Felicity in the Service of the Senses. As to the Wrathful, the Contentious, the Ambitious, though the Distemper be great, the offence has yet something in it that is Manly: but, the Basest of Prostitutes are those, that Dedicate themselves wholly to Lust; what with their Hopes and Fears; Anxiety of Thought, and perpetual Disquiets, they are never well, full nor fasting.  
WHAT a deal of Business is now 
c The Folly, and Vanity of Luxury.  made about our Houses, and Diet, which was at first both Obvious, and of little Expense? Luxury led the way, and we have employed our Wits in the Aid of our Vices. First we desired Superfluities; our next step was to Wickedness, and, in Conclusion, we delivered up our Minds to our Bodies, and so became slaves to our Appetites, which before, were our Servants, and are now become our Masters. What was it that brought us to the Extravagance of Embroderyes, Perfumes, Tirewomen, etc. We passed the bounds of Nature, and lashed out into Superfluities: Insomuch, that it is now adays only for Beggars, and Clowns, to content themselves with what is Sufficient: Our Luxury makes us Insolent, and Mad. We take upon us Like Princes, and fly out for every Trifle, as if there were Life, and Death in the Case. What a Madness is it for a Man to lay out an Estate upon a Table, or a Cabinet; a Patrimony upon a pair of Pendents, and to inflame the Price of Curiosities, according to the Hazard either of Breaking, or of Losing them? To wear Garments that will neither defend a Woman's Body, nor her Modesty; so thin, that one would make a Conscience of Swearing, she were not Naked: For, she hardly shows more in the Privacies of her Amour, than in Public? How long shall we Covet, and Oppress; enlarge our Possessions; and account That too little for one Man, which was formerly enough for a Nation? And our Luxury is as Insatiable as our Avarice: Where's that Lake, that Sea, that Forest, that Spot of Land, that is not ransacked to gratify our Palate? The very Earth is burdened with our Buildings, not a River, nor a Mountain escapes us. Oh that there should be such boundless desires in our little Bodies! Would not fewer Lodgings serve us? We lie but in One, and where we are not, That is not properly Ours. What with our Hooks, Snares, Nets, Dogs, etc. we are at War with all Living Creatures; and nothing comes amiss, but that which is either too Cheap, or too Common; and all this is to gratify a Fantastical Palate. Our Avarice, our Ambition, our Lusts are Insatiable; we enlarge our Possessions; swell our Families; we rifle Sea, and Land, for matter of Ornament and Luxury. A Bull Contents himself with One Meadow; and One Forest is enough for a Thousand Elephants; but the Little Body of a Man devours more than all other Living Creatures. We do not Eat to Satisfy Hunger, but Ambition; we are Dead while we are Alive; and our Houses are so much our Tombs, that a Man might write our Epitaphs upon our very Doors.  
A 
f A Voluptuous Person cannot be a Good Man.  Voluptuous Person, in Fine, can neither be a Good Man, a Good Patriot, nor a Good Friend; for he is transported with his Appetites, without considering, that the Lot of Man is the Law of Nature. A Good Man (like a good Soldier) will stand his Ground, receive Wounds, Glory in his Scars, and, in Death itself, Love his Master for whom he Falls; with that Divine Precept always in his Mind, Follow God. Whereas he that complains, laments, and groans, must yield nevertheless, and do his Duty, though in spite of his Heart. Now, what a Madness is it, for a Man to choose rather to be lugged, than to follow; and vainly to contend with the Calamities of Humane Life? Whatsoever is laid upon us by Necessity, we should receive Generously; For it is Foolish to strive with what we cannot avoid. We are born Subjects, and to obey God is Perfect Liberty. He that does This, shall be Free, Safe, and Quiet; all his Actions shall succeed to his Wish: and, What can any Man desire more, than to want nothing from without, and to have all things desirable within himself? Pleasures do but weaken our Minds, and send us for our support to Fortune, who gives us Money only as the Wages of Slavery. We must stop our Eyes, and our Ears. Ulysses had but one Rock to Fear, but Humane Life has many. Every City, nay, every Man is one, and there's no trusting even to our nearest Friends. Deliver me from the Superstition of taking those things which are Light, and Vain, for Felicities.   

CHAP XII. Avarice, and Ambition are Insatiable, and Restless.  
THE Man that would be truly Rich, must not increase his Fortune, but retrench his Appetites: For Riches are not only Superfluous, but Mean, and little more to the Possessor, than to the Looker on. What is the end of Ambition, and Avarice; when, at best, we are but Stewards of what we falsely call our Own? All those things that we pursue with so much hazard, and expense of Blood, as well to Keep, as to Get; for which we break Faith, and Friendship; What are they, but the mere Deposita of Fortune? And not Ours, but already inclining toward a new Master. There is nothing our Own, but that which we give to ourselves; and of which we have a Certain, and an Inexpugnable Possession. Avarice is so Insatiable, that it is not in the Power of Liberality to Content it: And our Desires are so Boundless, that whatever we get, is but in the way to getting more without end: And so long as we are Solicitous for the Increase of Wealth, we lose the true Use of it; and spend our Time in Putting out, Calling in, and passing our Accounts, without any Substantial Benefit, either to the World, or to ourselves. What is the Difference betwixt Old Men, and Children? The one cries for Nuts, and Apples, and the other for Gold, and Silver. The one sets up Courts of Justice; Hears, and Determines; Acquits, and Condemns in Jest, the other in Earnest; The one makes Houses of Clay, the other of Marble: So that the Works of Old Men are nothing in the World but the Progress, and Improvement of children's Errors: And they are to be Admonished, and Punished too like Children; not in Revenge for Injuries Received, but as a Correction for Injuries Done, and to make them give over. There is some substance yet in Gold, and Silver; but, as to Judgements, and Statutes, Procuration, and Continuance-Money, these are only the Visions, and the Dreams of Avarice. Throw a Crust of Bread to a Dog, he takes it open-mouthed, swallows it whole, and presently gapes for more: Just so do we with the Gifts of Fortune; down they go without Chewing, and we are immediately ready for another Chop. But, What has Avarice now to do with Gold, and Silver, that is so much outdone by Curiosities of a far greater value? Let us no longer complain, that there was not a heavier Load laid upon those precious Metals; or that they were not buried deep enough, when we have found out ways by Wax, and Parchments; and by Bloody Usurious Contracts, to undo one another. It is remarkable, that Providence has given us all things for our Advantage near at hand; but Iron, Gold, and Silver (being both the Instruments of Blood, and Slaughter, and the Price of it,) Nature has hidden in the Bowels of the Earth.  
THERE is no Avarice without some 
a Avarice punishes itself.  punishment, over and above that which it is to itself. How miserable is it in the desire: How miserable even in the Attaining of our Ends? For Money is a greater Torment in the Possession, than it is in the pursuit. The Fear of Losing it is a Great Trouble, the Loss of it a greater, and it is made a greater yet by Opinion. Nay, even in the Case of no direct Loss at all, the Covetous Man loses what he does not get. 'Tis true, the People call the Rich Man a Happy Man, and wish themselves in his Condition; But, Can any Condition be worse than That, which carries Vexation, and Envy along with it? Neither is any Man to boast of his Fortune, his Herds of Cattle; His Number of Slaves; his Lands and Palaces; for comparing that which he has, to that which he farther Covets, he is a Beggar. No Man can possess all things, but any Man may Contemn them, and the Contempt of Riches is the nearest way to the gaining of them.  
SOME Magistrates are made for 
b Money does ●…ll.  Money, and Those commonly are bribed with Money. We are all turned Merchants, and look not into the Quality of things, but into the Price of them; for Reward we are Pious, and for Reward again we are Impious. We are Honest, so long as we may Thrive upon it; but, if the Devil himself give better wages, we change our Party. Our Parents have trained us up into an Admiration of Gold, and Silver, and the Love of it is grown up with us to that Degree, that when we would show our Gratitude to Heaven, we make Presents of those Metals. This is it that makes Poverty look like a Curse, and a Reproach; and the Poets help it forward; The Chariot of the Sun must be all of Gold; the Best of Times must be the Golden Age, and thus they turn the greatest Misery of Mankind into the greatest Blessing.  
NEITHER does Avarice 
c Avarice makes us Ill-natured, as well as Miserable.  only make us Unhappy in ourselves, but Malevolent also to Mankind. The Soldier wishes for War; the Husbandman would have his Corn dear; the Lawyer prays for Dissension; the Physician fora Sickly year; He that deals in Curiosities, for Luxury, and Excess; makes up his Fortunes out of the Corruptions of the Age; High Winds, and Public Conflagrations make work for the Carpenter, and Bricklayer; and one Man lives by the Loss of another; some few perhaps have the Fortune to be detected, but they are all Wicked alike▪ A great Plague makes work for the Sexton, and, in one word, whosoever gains by the Dead, has not much Kindness for the Living. Demudes of Athens Condemned a Fellow that sold Necessaries for Funerals, upon Proof, that he wished to make himself a Fortune by his Trade, which could not be but by a great Mortality. But perhaps he did not so much desire to have many Customers, as to sell dear, and Buy Cheap; besides, that all of That Trade might have been Condemned as well as he. Whatsoever whets our Appetites, Flatters and depresses the Mind, and by dilating it weakens it; first blowing it up, and then filling, and deluding it with Vanity.  
TO proceed now from the most Prostitute of all Vices, 
d The Cares, and Crimes that attend Ambition.  Sensuality, and Avarice, to that which passes in the World for the most Generous, the Thirst of Glory, and Dominion; If they that run Mad after Wealth, and Honour, could but look into the hearts of them that have already gained these Points; How would it startle them to see those hideous Cares, and Crimes, that wait upon Ambitious Greatness? All those Acquisitions that dazzle the Eyes of the Vulgar, are but False Pleasures, Slippery, and Uncertain. They are Achieved with Labour, and the very Guard of them is Painful. Ambition puffs us up with Vanity, and Wind; and we are equally troubled, either to see any Body before us, or no Body behind us; so that we lie under a double Envy; for, whosoever Envies another, is also envied himself. What matters it how far Alexander extended his Conquests, if he was not yet satisfied with what he had? Every Man wants as much as he Covets; and, 'tis lost labour to pour into a Vessel that will never be full. He that had subdued so many Princes, and Nations, upon the kill of Clitus (one Friend) and the Loss of Ephestion, (another) delivered himself up to Anger, and Sadness; and when he was Master of the World, he was yet a Slave to his Passions. Look into Cyrus, Cambyses, and the whole Persian Line, and you shall not find so much as one Man of them that died satisfied with What he had gotten. Ambition aspires from Great things to Greater; and propounds Matters, even Impossible, when it has once arrived at things beyond Expectation. It is a kind of Dropsy; the more a Man drinks, the more he Covets. Let any Man but observe the Tumults, and the Crowds that attend Palaces; What Affronts must we endure to be admitted; and, How much greater when we are in? The Passage to Virtue is Fair, but the way to Greatness is Craggy, and it stands not only upon a Precipice, but upon Ice too: and yet it is a hard matter to convince a Great Man that his Station is slippery, or to Prevail with him not to depend upon his Greatness. But all Superfluities are Hurtful; a Rank Crop lays the Corn; too great a Burden of Fruit breaks the Bow; and our Minds may be as well overcharged with an Immoderate Happiness. Nay, though we ourselves would be at Rest, our Fortune will not suffer it: The way that leads to Honour, and Riches, leads to Troubles; and we find the Causes of our Sorrows in the very Objects of our Delights. What Joy is there is Feasting, and Luxury; in Ambition, and a Crowd of Clients; In the Arms of a Mistress, or in the Vanity of an Unprofitable Knowledge? These short and False Pleasures deceive us; and, like Drunkenness, Revenge the Jolly Madness of one hour, with the Nauseous, and sad Repentance of Many. Ambition is like a Gulf, every thing is swallowed up in it, and buried; beside the dangerous consequences of it; For, that which One has taken from All, may be easily taken away again from All, by One. It was not either Virtue, or Reason, but the Mad Love of a deceitful Greatness that animated Pompey in his Wars, either Abroad, or at Home. What was it but his Ambition that hurried him to Spain, Africa, and elsewhere, when he was too Great already, in every body's Opinion, but his Own? And the same Motive had julius Caesar, who could not, even then, brook a Superior Himself, when the Commonwealth had submitted unto Two already. Nor was it any instinct of Virtue, that pushed on Marius, who, in the Head of an Army, was himself yet led on under the Command of Ambition: but, he came at last to the deserved Fate of other Wicked Men, and to Drink himself of the same Cup that he had filled to others. We Impose upon our Reason, when we suffer ourselves to be transported with Titles; for, we know, that they are nothing but a more Glorious Sound: and so for Ornaments, and Gildings, though there may be a Lustre to Dazzle our Eyes, our Understanding tells us yet, that it is only Outside, and that the Matter under it is Course, and Common.  
I will never Envy 
c Miserable are those People, that the World Accounts Great and Happy.  those that the People call Great, and Happy. A Sound Mind is not to be shaken with a Popular, and Vain Applause; nor is it in the Power of their Pride to disturb the State of our Happiness. An Honest Man is known now adays by the Dust he raises upon the Way: and, 'tis become a Point of Honour to overrun People, and keep all at a distance; though he that is put out of the way, may perchance be Happier than he that takes it. He that would exercise a Power Profitable to himself, and Grievous to no body else, let him practise it upon his Passions. They that have Burnt Cities, otherwise Invincible, driven Armies before them, and bathed themselves in Humane Blood; after that they have overcome all open Enemies, they have been vanquished by their Lust, by their Cruelty, and without any Resistance. Alexander was possessed with the Madness of laying Kingdoms waste. He began with Greece, where he was brought up; and there he quarryed himself upon that in it which was Best; He Enslaved Lacedaemon, and Silenced Athens: Nor was he content with the Destruction of those Towns, which his Father Philip had either Conquered, or Bought; but he made himself the Enemy of Humane Nature, and, like the worst of Beasts, he worried what he could not eat. Felicity is an Unquiet thing; it torments itself, and puzzles the Brain. It makes some People Ambitious, others Luxurious; It puffs up some, and softens others; only (as 'tis with Wine) some Heads bear it better than others; But it dissolves all. Greatness stands upon a Precipice; and if Prosperity carries a Man never so little beyond his Poise, it overbeares, and dashes him to pieces. 'Tis a rare thing for a Man in a great Fortune, to lay down his Happiness gently; it being a Common Fate, for a Man to sink under the Weight of those Felicities that raise him. How many of the Nobility did Marius bring down to Herdsmen, and other mean Offices? Nay, in the very Moment of our despising Servants, we may be made so ourselves.   

CHAP. XIII. Hope, and Fear, are the Bane of Humane Life.  
NO Man can be said to be perfectly Happy, that runs the Risque of Disappointment; which is the Case of every Man that Fears, or Hopes for any thing. For, Hope, and Fear, how distant soever they may seem to be the one from the other, they are both of them yet coupled in the same Chain, as the Guard, and the Prisoner; and the one treads upon the Heel of the other. The Reason of this is Obvious, for they are Passions that look forward, and are ever solicitous for the Future; only Hope is the more Plausible Weakness of the Two; which in truth, upon the Main, are Inseparable, for the one cannot be without the other; but where the Hope is stronger than the Fear, or the Fear than the Hope, we call it the one, or the other: For, without Fear, it were no longer Hope, but Certainty; as without Hope, it were no longer Fear, but Despair. We may come to Understand, whether our Disquiets are vain, or no, if we do but Consider, that we are either troubled about the Present, the Future, or Both. If the Present, 'tis easy to Judge, and the Future is Uncertain. 'Tis a Foolish thing to be Miserable beforehand, for fear of Misery to come, for a Man loses the Present which he might enjoy, in expectation of the Future; Nay, the Fear of losing any thing is as bad as the loss itself. I will be as Prudent as I can, but not Timorous, or Careless: And I will bethink myself, and forecast what Inconveniences may happen, before they come. 'Tis true, a Man may Fear, and yet not be Fearful; which is no more, than to have the Affection of Fear, without the Vice of it; but yet a frequent Admittance of it runs into a Habit. It is a Shameful, and an Unmanly thing to be Doubtful, Timorous, and Uncertain; to set one step forward, and another backward; and to be Irresolute. Can there be any Man so Fearful, that had not rather fall once, than hang always in suspense?  
OUR 
a Our Miseries are Endless, if we fear all Possibilities.  Miseries are Endless, if we stand in Fear of all Possibilities; the best way in such a Case is, to drive out one Nail with another, and a little to qualify Fear with Hope: which may serve to Palliate a Misfortune, though not to Cure it. There is not any thing that we Fear, which is so Certain to come, as it is certain that many things which we do Fear will not come but, we are loath to oppose our Credulity when it begins to move us, and so to bring our Fear to the Test. W●… but What if the Thing we fear should come to pass? perhaps it will be the better for us. Suppose it to be Death itself; Why may it not prove the Glory of my Life? Did not Poison make Socrates Famous? And, was not Cato 〈◊〉 a great part of his Honour? Do we fear any Misfortune to be fall us? We are not presently sure that it will Happen. How many deliverances have Come Unlooked for? And, How many Mischiefs that we looked for, have never come to pass? 'Tis time enough to lament, when it comes, and in the Interim, to promise ourselves the Best. What do I know but some thing or other may delay, or divert it? Some have scaped out of the Fire; Others, when a House has fallen over their Heads, have received no Hurt; One Man has been saved when a Sword was at his Throat; another has been Condemned, and outlived his Headsman: So that Ill Fortune, we see, as well as Good, has her Levitieses: Peradventure it will be, Peradventure not; and till it comes to Pass, we are not sure of it: We do many times take Words in a worse sense than they were intended, and imagine things to be worse taken than they are. 'Tis time enough to bear a Misfortune when it Comes, without Anticipating it.  
HE that would deliver himself from all Apprehensions of the 
b Prepare for the worst.  Future, let him first take for granted, that all his Fears will fall upon him; and then Examine, and Measure the Evil that he fears, which he will find to be neither Great, nor Long. Beside, that the Ills which he fears he May Suffer, he suffers in the very Fear of them. As in the symptoms of an Approaching Disease; a Man shall find himself Lazy, and Listless; a Weariness in his Limbs, with a Yawning, and Shuddering all over him: So is it in the Case of a Weak Mind, It Fancies Misfortunes, and makes a Man wretched before his time. Why should I torment myself at present, with what perhaps may fall out Fifty year hence? This Humour is a kind of Voluntary Disease, and an Industrious Contrivance of our own Unhappiness, to complain of an Affliction that we do not Feel. Some are not only moved with Grief itself, but with the mere Opinion of it; as Children will start at a Shadow, or at the Sight of a Deformed Person. If we stand in fear of Violence from a Powerful Enemy, it is some Comfort to us, that whosoever makes himself terrible to Others, is not without Fear Himself: The least Noise makes a Lion start; and the Fiercest of Beasts, whatsoever enrages them, makes them tremble too: A Shadow, a Voice, an Unusual Odour rouzes them.  
THE things most to be feared, I take to be of three Kind's. 
c The things most to be Feared, are Want, Sickness, and the Violences of Men in Power.  Want, Sickness, and those Violences that may be imposed upon us by a Strong Hand. The Last of these has the greatest Force, because it comes attended with Noise, and Tumult: Whereas the Incommodities of Poverty, and Diseases, are more Natural, and steal upon us in Silence, without any External Circumstances of Horror: But, the Other marches in Pomp, with Fire, and Sword, Gibbets, Racks, Hooks: Wild Beasts to devour us; Stakes to Impale us; Engines to Tear us to pieces; Pitched Bags to burn us in, and a thousand other Exquisite Inventions of Cruelty. No wonder then if that be most Dreadful to us, that presents itself in so many Uncouth shapes; and by the very Solemnity is rendered the most Formidable. The more Instruments of Bodily pain the Executioner shows us, the more Frightful he makes himself: For, many a Man that would have encountered Death in any Generous Form, with Resolution enough, is yet overcome with the Manner of it. As for the Calamities of Hunger, and Thirst, Inward Ulcers, Scorching Fevers, Tormenting Fits of the Stone, I look upon these Miseries to be at least as Grievous as any of the rest: Only they do not so much affect the Fancy, because they Lie out of Sight. Some People talk High of Dangers at a Distance; but (like Cowards) when the Executioner comes to do his Duty, and shows us the Fire, the Axe, the Scaffold, and Death at Hand, their Courage fails them upon the very Pinch, when they have most need of it. Sickness (I hope) Captivity, Fire, are no new things to us; the Falls of Houses, Funerals, and Conflagrations, are every day before our Eyes. The Man that I Supped with last Night is Dead before Morning; Why should I wonder then, seeing so many fall about me, to be hit at last myself? What can be a Greater Madness, than to cry out, Who would have dreamed of This? And why not I beseech you? Where is that Estate that may not be reduced to Beggary? That Dignity which may not be followed with Banishment, Disgrace, and Extreme Contempt? That Kingdom that may not suddenly fall to ruin; change its Master, and be Depopulated? That Prince that may not pass the Hand of a Common Hangman? That which is one Man's Fortune, may be another's; but, the Foresight of Calamities to come, breaks the Violence of them.   

CHAP. XIV. It is according to the True, or False Estimate of Things, that we are Happy, or Miserable.  
HOW many things are there that the Fancy makes Terrible by Night, which the Day turns into Ridiculous? What is there in Labour, or in Death, that a Man should be afraid of? They are much Slighter in Act, than in Contemplation; and, we May contemn them, but we Will not: So that it is not because they are Hard, that we dread them; but they are Hard, because we are first afraid of them. Pains, and other Violences of Fortune, are the same thing to Us, that Goblins are to Children: We are more Scared with them, than Hurt. We take up our Opinions upon Trust, and Err for Company; still Judging That to be Best, that has most Competitors. We make a False Calculation of Matters, because we advise with Opinion, and not with Nature; And this misleads Us to a higher esteem for Riches, Honour, and Power, than they are worth: We have been used to Admire, and Recommend them, and a Private Error is Quickly turned into a Public. The Greatest, and the Smallest things are equally Hard to be comprehended; we account many things Great, for want of Understanding what effectually is so; And we reckon other things to be Small, which we find frequently to be of the Highest Value. Vain things only move Vain Minds; The Accidents that we so much Boggle at, are not Terrible in themselves, but they are made so by our Infirmities, and we consult rather what we Hear, than what we Feel, without Examining, Opposing, or Discussing the things we fear; so that we either stand still, and Tremble, or else directly Run for't; as those Troops did, that upon the raising of the Dust, took a Flock of Sheep for the Enemy. When the Body, and Mind are Corrupted, 'tis no Wonder if all things prove Intolerable; and not because they are so in Truth, but because we are Dissolute, and Foolish: For, we are Infatuated to such a Degree, that betwixt the Common Madness of Men, and that which falls under the Care of the Physician, there is but this difference; The one labours of a Disease, and the other of a False Opinion.  
THE Stoics hold, That all those Torments that commonly draw from us Groans, and Ejulations, are in themselves Trivial, and Contemptible. But these Highflown Expressions apart, (how true soever) Let us Discourse the Point at the 
a Let every Man make the best of his Lot.  rate of Ordinary Men, and not make ourselves Miserable before our time; for, The things we apprehend to be at Hand, may possibly never come to pas●…. Some things trouble us More than they should, Other things Sooner; and some things again disorder us, that ought not to trouble us at all: So that we either Enlarge, or Create, or Anticipate our Disquiets. For the First part, let it rest as a matter in Controversy; for that which I account Light, Another perhaps will Judge Insupportable; One Man Laughs under the Lash, and another Whines for a Philip. How sad a Calamity is Poverty to One Man, which to Another appears rather Desirable than Inconvenient? For the Poor Man that has nothing to Lose, has nothing to Fear: And he that would enjoy himself to the Satisfaction of his Soul, must be either poor Indeed, or at least look as if he were so. Some people are extremely dejected with Sickness, and Pain; whereas Epicurus blessed his Fate with his last Breath in the Acutest Torments of the Stone Imaginable. And so for Banishment, which to One Man is so Grievous, and yet to Another is no more than a bare Change of Place: A thing that we do every day for our Health, Pleasure; nay, and upon the Account even of Common Business. How Terrible is Death to One Man, which to Another appears the greatest Providence in Nature; even toward all Ages, and Conditions? It is the Wish of Some, the Relief of Many, and the End of All. It sets the Slave at Liberty, carries the Banished Man Home, and places all Mortals upon the same Level: Insomuch, that Life itself were a Punishment without it. When I see Tyrants, Tortures, Violences, the Prospect of Death is a Consolation to me, and the only Remedy against the Injuries of Life.  
NAY, so great are our Mistakes in the True Estimate of things, that we have hardly done any thing which we have not had reason to wish Undone; and we have found the things we feared, to be more desirable than those we coveted: 
b Our very Prayers many times are Curses.  Our very Prayers have been more Pernicious than the Curses of our Enemies; and we must Pray again to have our former Prayers forgiven. Where's the Wise Man that wishes himself the wishes of his Mother, his Nurse, or his Tutor; the worst of Enemies, with the Intention of the best of Friends. We are Undone if their Prayers be heard; and it is our Duty to Pray, that they may not; For they are no other than well-meaning Execrations. They take Evil for Good; and one Wish fights with another: Give me rather the Contempt of all those things whereof they wish me the greatest Plenty. We are equally hurt by some that Pray for us, and by others that Curse us: The One imprints in us a False Fear, and the Other does us Mischief by a Mistake. So that it is no wonder if Mankind be Miserable, that is brought up from the very Cradle under the Imprecations of our Parents. We pray for Trifles, without so much as thinking of the greatest Blessings; and we are not ashamed many times to ask God for That, which we should blush to own to our Neighbour.  
IT is with us, as with an Innocent 
c We are vain and wicked, and will not Believe it.  that Our Author had in his Family; She fell blind on a sudden, and no body could persuade her, that she was Blind. She could not endure the House, (she Cried) it was so dark; and was still calling to go abroad. That which we laughed at in her, we find to be true in ourselves, we are Covetous, and Ambitious; but the World shall never bring us to acknowledge it, and we Impute it to the Place: Nay, we are the worse of the Two; for that blind Fool called for a Guide, and we wander about without one. It is a hard matter to Cure those that will not believe they are Sick. We are ashamed to admit a Master, and we are too old to Learn. Vice still goes before Virtue: So that we have two Works to do; we must cast off the One, and Learn the Other. By One Evil we make way to another, and only seek things to be avoided, or those of which we are soon weary. That which seemed too Much when we wished for't, proves too Little when we have it; and it is not as some Imagine, that Felicity is Greedy; but it is Little, and Narrow, and cannot Satisfy us. That which we take to be very High, at a distance we find to be but Low, when we come at it. And the Business is, we do not understand the true State of Things: we are deceived by Rumours; when we have Gained the thing we aimed at, we find it to be either Ill, or Empty; or perchance Less than we expected, or otherwise perhaps Great, but not Good.   

CHAP XV. The Blessings of Temperance and Moderation.  
THERE is not any thing that is Necessary to us, but we have it either Cheap, or Gratis; and this is the Provision that our Heavenly Father has made for us, whose Bounty was never wanting to our Needs. 'Tis true, the Belly Craves, and Calls upon us, but then a small matter contents it: A little Bread, and Water is sufficient, and all the rest is but superfluous. He that lives according to Reason, shall never be Poor; and he that Governs his Life by Opinion, shall never be Rich; for Nature is Limited, but Fancy is Boundless. As for Meat, clothes, and Lodging, a little Feeds the Body, and as little Covers it; So that if Mankind would only attend Humane Nature, without gaping at Superfluities, a Cook would be found as needless as a Soldier: For we may have Necessaries upon very Easy Terms; whereas we put ourselves to great Pains for excesses. When we are Cold, we may cover ourselves with Skins of Beasts; and, against violent Heats, we have Natural Grottoes; or with a few Osyers', and a little Clay we may defend ourselves against all Seasons. Providence has been kinder to us than to leave us to live by our Wits, and to Stand in need of Invention, and Arts: It is only Pride, and Curiosity, that Involves us in Difficulties; If nothing will serve a Man but Rich clothes, and Furniture; Statues and Plate; a Numerous Train of Servants, and the Rarities of all Nations; it is not Fortune's Fault, but his Own, that he is not Satisfied: For his Desires are Insatiable, and this is not a Thirst, but a Disease; and if he were Master of the whole World, he would be still a Beggar. 'Tis the Mind that makes us Rich, and Happy, in what Condition soever we are; and Money signifies no more to't than it does to the Gods; If the Religion be Sincere, no matter for the Ornaments: 'Tis only Luxury, and Avarice, that makes Poverty Grievous to us; For it is a very small matter that does our Business; and when we have provided against Cold, Hunger, and Thirst, all the Rest is but Vanity, and Excess: And there's no need of Expense upon Foreign Delicacies, or the Artifices of the Kitchin. What is he the worse for Poverty, that despises these things? Nay, Is he not rather the better for it, because he is not able to go to the Price of them? For he is kept sound whether he will, or no; And that which a Man Cannot do, looks many times as if he would not.  
WHEN I look back into the 
a The moderation of past Ages.  Moderation of past Ages, it makes me ashamed to Discourse, as if Poverty had need of any Consolation: For we are now come to that degree of Intemperance, that a fair Patrimony is too little for a Meal. Homer had but One Servant; Plato Three; and Zeno (the Master of the Masculine Sect of Stoics) had none at all. The Daughters of Scipio had their Portions out of the Common Treasury, for their Father left them not worth a Penny: How Happy were their Husbands that had the People of Rome for their Father-in-Law? Shall any Man now Contemn Poverty after these Eminent Examples; which are sufficient not only to Justify, but to Recommend it? Upon Diogenes' only Servants running away from him, he was told where he was, and persuaded to fetch him back again. What, says he, can Manes live without Diogenes, and not Diogenes without▪ Manes? And so let him go. The Piety, and Moderation of Scipio has made his Memory more Venerable, than his Arms; and more yet after he left his Country, than while he defended it: For matters were come to that pass, that either Scipio must be Injurious to Rome, or Rome to Scipio. Course Bread, and Water, to a Temperate Man is as good as a Feast; and the very Herbs of the Field yield a Nourishment to Man, as well as to Beasts. It was not by Choice Meats, and Perfumes, that our Forefathers recommended themselves, but by▪ Virtuous Actions, and the Sweat of Honest, Military, and of Manly Labours.  
WHILE Nature lay in Common, and all 
b The State of Innocence.  her Benefits were promiscuously enjoyed, What could be happier than that state of Mankind? when People lived without either Avarice, or Envy? What could be Richer, than when there was not a Poor Man to be found in the World? So soon as this Impartial Bounty of Providence came to be restrained, by Covetousness; and that Particulars appropriated That to themselves which was intended for All; then did Poverty creep into the World; when some Men by desiring more than came to their share, lost their Title to the Rest. A loss never to be repaired; for though we may come Yet to get Much, we once had All. The Fruits of the Earth were in those days divided among the Inhabitants of it, without either Want, or Excess. So long as Men contented themselves with their Lot, there was no Violence; no Engrossing, or Hiding of those Benefits for Particular Advantages, which were appointed for the Community; but every Man had as much Care for his Neighbour, as for Himself. No Arms, or Bloodshed; no War, but with wild Beasts: But under the Protection of a Wood, or a Cave, they spent their days without Cares, and their nights without Groans; Their Innocence was their Security, and their Protection. There were as yet no Beds of State, no Ornaments of Pearl, or Embroidery, nor any of those Remorses that attend them; but the Heavens were their Canopy, and the Glories of them their Spectacle. The Motions of the Orbs; the Courses of the Stars, and the wonderful order of Providence was their Contemplation: There was no fear of the House falling; or the Rustling of a Rat behind the Arras; they had no Palaces then like Cities; but they had open Air, and Breathing-Room; Crystal Fountains, Refreshing Shades; the Meadows dressed up in their Native Beauty, and such Cottages as were according to Nature, and wherein they lived contentedly, without fear either of Losing, or of Falling. These people lived without either Solicitude, or Fraud; and yet I must call them rather Happy, than Wise. That Men were generally better before they were corrupted, then after, I make no doubt; and I am apt to believe, that they were both Stronger, and Hardier too; but their Wits were not yet come to Maturity; for Nature does not give Virtue; and it is a kind of Art to become Good: They had not as yet torn up the Bowels of the Earth for Gold, Silver, or Precious Stones; and, so far were they from killing any Man, as we do, for a Spectacle, that they were not as yet come to it, either in Fear, or Anger; nay, they spared the very Fishes. But after all This, they were Innocent, because they were Ignorant; and there's a great difference betwixt not Knowing how to offend, and not being Willing to do it. They had, in that rude Life, certain Images, and Resemblances of Virtue, but yet they fell short of Virtue itself, which comes only by Institution, Learning, and Study, as it is perfected by Practice. It is indeed the End for which we were born, but yet it did not come into the World with us; and in the best of Men, before they are instructed, we find rather the Matter, and the Seeds of Virtue, than the Virtue itself. It is the wonderful Benignity of Nature, that has laid open to us all things that may do us Good, and only hidden those things from us that may hurt us: as if she durst not Trust us with Gold, and Silver; or with Iron; which is the Instrument of War, and Contention for the other. It is we ourselves that have drawn out of the Earth, both the Causes, and the Instruments of our Dangers: And we are so vain as to set the highest esteem upon those things to which Nature has assigned the lowest place. What can be more Course, and Rude in the Mine, than these precious Metals; or more Slavish, and Dirty, than the People that Dig, and Work them? And yet they defile our Minds more than our Bodies; and make the Possessor fouler than the Artificer of them. Rich Men, in fine, are only the Greater Slaves. Both the One, and the Other wants a great deal.  
HAPPY is that Man that Eats only for ᵇ 
c A Temperate Life is a Happy Life.  Hunger, and Drinks only for Thirst; that stands upon his own Legs, and lives by Reason, not by Example; and provides for Use, and Necessity, not for Ostentation and Pomp. Let us Curb our Appetites, encourage Virtue, and rather be beholden to ourselves for Riches, than to Fortune; who, when a Man draws himself into a narrow compass, has the least Mark at him. Let my Bed be plain, and Clean, and my clothes so too; my Meat without much Expense, or many Waiters; and neither a burden to my Purse, nor to my Body; nor to go out the same way it came in. That which is too little for Luxury, is abundantly enough for Nature, The end of Eating, and Drinking, is Satiety; Now, What matters it, though One Eats, and Drinks more, and Another Less, so long as the One is not a hungry, nor the Other a thirst? Epicurus, that limits Pleasure to Nature, as the Stoics do Virtue, is undoubtedly in the Right; and those that Cite him to authorize their Voluptuousness, do exceedingly mistake him, and only seek a Good Authority for an Evil Cause: For their Pleasures of Sloth, Gluttony, and Lust, have no Affinity at all with his Precepts, or Meaning. 'Tis true, that at first sight, his Philosophy seems Effeminate; but he that looks nearer him, will find him to be a very Brave Man only in a Womanish Dress.  
'TIS a Common Objection, I know, That these Philosophers 
c Let Philosophers Live as they Teach.  do not Live at the rate that they Talk; for they can flatter their Superiors, Gather Estates, and be as much concerned at the Loss of Fortune, or of Friends, as other people: As sensible of Reproaches, as Luxurious in their Eating, and Drinking, their Furniture, their Houses; as Magnificent in their Plate, Servants, and Officers; as Profuse, and Curious in their Gardens, etc. Well! And what of all This; or if it were twenty times More? 'Tis some degree of Virtue for a Man to Condemn himself; and if he cannot come up to the Best, to be yet better than the Worst; and if he cannot wholly Subdue his Appetites, however to Check, and Diminish them. If I do not Live, as I Preach; take notice that I do not speak of myself, but of Virtue; nor am I so much offended with Other men's Vices, as with my Own. All this was objected to Plato, Epicurus, Zeno: Nor is any Virtue so Sacred, as to scape Malevolence. The Cynic Demetrius was a great Instance of Severity, and Mortification; and one that Imposed upon himself, neither to Possess any thing, nor so much as to Ask it: and yet he had this Scom put upon him, that his Profession was Poverty, not Virtue. Plato is blamed for Ask Money; Aristotle for Receiving it; Democritus, for Neglecting it; Epicurus, for Consuming it. How happy were we if we could but come to Imitate these men's Vices; for if we knew our Own Condition, we should find work enough at Home. But, we are like People that are making Merry at a Play, or a Tavern; when our own houses are on fire, and yet we know nothing on't. Nay, Cato himself was said to be a Drunkard; but Drunkenness itself shall sooner be proved to be no Crime, than Cato Dishonest. They that demolish Temples, and overturn Altars, show their Good Will, though they can do the Gods no hurt; and so it fares with those that invade the Reputation of Great Men. If the Professors of Virtue be as the World calls them, Avaricious, Libidinous, Ambitious; What are they then that have a detestation for the very Name of it? But Malicious Natures do not want Wit to abuse Honester Men than themselves. It is the Practice of the Multitude, to bark at Eminent Men, as little Dogs do at Strangers; for they look upon Other men's Virtues, as the Upbraiding of their Own Wickedness. We should do well to commend those that are Good; if not, let us pass them Over; but however let us spare ourselves: for beside the Blaspheming of Virtue, our Rage is to no purpose. But to return now to my Text.  
WE are ready enough to limit Others, but 
d 'tis good to Practise Frugality in Plenty.  loath to put Bounds and Restraint upon ourselves; though we know that many times a Greater Evil is Cured by a Less; and the Mind that will not be brought to Virtue by Precept, comes to it frequently by Necessity. Let us try a little to Eat upon a Joynt-Stool; to serve ourselves; to Live within Compass, and accommodate our clothes to the End they were made for. Occasional Experiments of our Moderation give us the best Proof of our Firmness, and Virtue. A well-governed Appetite is a great part of Liberty; and it is a Blessed Lot, that since no Man can have all things that he would have, we may all of us forbear desiring what we have not. It is the Office of Temperance to Overrule us in our Pleasures; Some she Rejects, Others she Qualifies, and Keeps within Bounds. Oh! the Delights of Rest, when a Man comes to be Weary, and of Meat, when he is heartily Hungry! I have learned (says our Author) by one Journey, how many things we have that are superfluous, and how easily they may be spared; for, when we are without them, upon Necessity, we do not so much as feel the want of them. This is the Second Blessed Day (says he) that my Friend, and I have Travelled together; One Wagon carries ourselves, and our Servants; My Mattress lies upon the Ground, and I upon That: Our Diet answerable to our Lodging; and never without our Figs, and our Table-Books. The Muletier without Shoes, and the Mules only prove themselves to be Alive by their walking. In this Equipage, I am not willing, I perceive, to own myself; but as often as we happen into better Company, I presently fall a blushing; which shows, that I am not yet confirmed in those things which I Approve, and Commend: I am not yet come to Own my Frugality; for he that's Ashamed to be seen in a Mean Condition, would be proud of a splendid one. I value myself upon what Passengers think of me, and Tacitly renounce my Principles; whereas I should rather lift up my Voice to be heard by Mankind, and tell them, You are all Mad; your Minds are set upon supersluities, and you value no Man for his Virtues. I came one Night weary home, and threw myself upon the Bed, with this Consideration about me: There is nothing Ill, that is Well Taken. My Baker tells me he has no Bread; but, says he, I may get some of your Tenants, though I fear 'tis not Good. No matter, said I, for I'll stay till it be Better; that is to say, till my stomach will be glad of worse. It is Discretion sometimes to practice Temperance, and wont ourselves to a Little; for there are many Difficulties both of Time, and Place, that may Force us upon it. When we come to the Matter of Patrimony; How strictly do we examine what every Man is Worth, before we'll trust him with a Penny: Such a Man, we cry, has a great Estate, but it is shrewdly encumbered; a very Fair House, but 'twas built with borrowed Money; a Numerous Family, but he does not keep Touch with his Creditors; if his Debts were paid, he would not be worth a Groat. Why do we not take the same Course in other things; and examine what every Man is worth? 'Tis not enough to have a Long Train of Attendants; Vast Possessions; or an Incredible Treasure in Money, and Jewels; a Man may be Poor for all this. There's only this difference at Best; One Man borrows of the Usurer, and the Other of Fortune. What signifies the Carving, or the Guilding of the Chariot? Is the Master ever the better for't?  
WE cannot Close up This Chapter with a more Generous 
e The Moderation and Bravery of Fabricius.  Instance of Moderation, than That of Fabricius. Pyrrhus' tempted him with a Sum of Money to betray his Country; and Pyrrhus his Physician offered Fabricius, for a Sum of Money, to Poison his Master; But he was too Brave, either to be Overcome by Gold, or to Overcome by Poison; so that he refused the Money, and advised Pyrrhus to have a Care of Treachery, and This in the Heat too of a Licentious War: Fabricius valued himself upon his Poverty, and was as much above the Thought of Riches, as of Poison. Live Pyrrhus, says he, by my Friendship; and Turn That to thy Satisfaction, which was before thy Trouble; that is to say, That Fabricius could not be Corrupted.   

CHAP. XVI. Constancy of Mind gives a Man Reputation, and makes him Happy in despite of all Misfortunes.  
THE Whole Duty of Man may be reduced to the Two Points of Abstinence, and Patience. Temperance in Prosperity, and Courage in Adversity. We have already treated of the Former; and the Other follows now in Course.  
EPICURUS will have it, that a 
a A Wise Man is above Injuries.  Wise Man will Bear all Injuries; but the Stoics will not allow Those things to be Injuries, which Epicurus calls so. Now, betwixt these Two, there is the same difference that we find betwixt two Gladiators; the One receives Wounds, but yet maintains his Ground; the Other tells the People, when he is in Blood, that 'Tis but a scratch, and will not suffer any body to part them. An Injury cannot be Received, but it must be Done; but it may be Done, and yet not Received; as a Man may be in the Water, and not Swim, but if he Swims, 'tis presumed that he is in the Water. Or if a Blow, or a Shot be levelled at us, it may so happen that a Man may miss his Aim, or some Accident interpose, that may divert the Mischief. That which is Hurt is Passive, and Inferior to that which Hurts it; but you will say, that Socrates was Condemned, and put to Death, and so received an Injury; but I answer, that the Tyrants Did him an Injury, and yet he Received none. He that steals any thing from me, and Hides it in my Own house; though I have not Lost it, yet he has stolen it. He that lies with his own Wife, and takes her for another Woman; though the Woman be Honest, the Man is an Adulterer. Suppose a Man gives me a draught of Poison; and it proves not strong enough to kill me; his Gild is never the Less for the Disappointment: He that makes a Pass at me, is as much a Murderer, though I put it by, as if he had struck me to the Heart. It is the Intention, not the Effect, that makes the Wickedness. He is a Thief, that has the Will of Killing, and Slaying, before his hand is dipped in Blood: As it is Sacrilege, the very Intention of laying violent Hands upon Holy Things. If a Philosopher be exposed to Torments, the Axe over his Head, his Body wounded, his Guts in his Hands; I will allow him to Grone; for Virtue itself cannot divest him of the Nature of a Man; but if his Mind stands Firm, he has discharged his part. A Great Mind enables a Man to maintain his Station with Honour; So that he only makes Use of what he meets in his way, as a Pilgrim that would fain be at his Journeys End.  
IT is the Excellency of a Great 
b A Great Mind neither Asks any thing, nor wants any thing.  Mind to Ask nothing, and to Want nothing; and to say, I'll have nothing to do with Fortune that Repulses Cato, and Prefers Vatinius. He that quits his Hold, and accounts any thing Good that is not Honest; runs gaping after Casualties, spends his days in Anxiety, and Vain Expectation; That Man is Miserable. And yet 'tis hard, you'll say, to be Banished, or cast into Prison: Nay, what if it were to be burnt, or any other way destroyed? We have Examples in all Ages, and in all Cases, of Great Men that have triumphed over all Misfortunes. Metellus suffered Exile Resolutely; Rutilius, Cheerfully; Socrates disputed in the Dungeon; and though he might have made his Escape, refused it: To show the World how easy a thing it was to subdue the Two Great Terrors of Mankind, Death, and a jail. Or what shall we say of Mucius Scaevola; a Man only of a Military Courage, and without the Help either of Philosophy, or Letters? who, when he found that he had killed the Secretary, in stead of Porcenna (the Prince) burned his Right Hand to Ashes for the Mistake; and held his Arm in the Flame, till it was taken away by his very Enemies. Porcenna did more easily pardon Mucius for his Intent to kill him, than Mucius forgave Himself for missing of his Aim. He might have done a Luckyer thing, but never a Braver.  
DID not Cato in the last night of his 
c Cato's Constancy.  Life, take Plato to Bed with him; with his Sword at his Beds-head; the One, that he might have Death at his Will; the Other, that he might have it in his Power; being resolved that no Man should be able to say, either that he killed, or that he saved Cato? So soon as he had composed his Thoughts, he took his Sword; Fortune, says he, I have hitherto Fought for my Country's Liberty, and for my Own, and only that I might live Free among Freemen; but the Cause is now Lost, and Cato Safe. With that word, he cast himself upon his Sword, and after the Physicians, that pressed in upon him, had bound up his Wound, he tore it open again, and so expired with the same Greatness of Soul, that he Lived. But these are the Examples, you'll say, of Men Famous in their Generations. Let us but Consult History, and we shall find, even in the most Effeminate of Nations, and the most Dissolute of Times, Men of all Degrees, Ages, and Fortunes; nay, even Women themselves, that have overcome the Fear of Death: which, in truth, is so little to be feared, that, duly considered, it is one of the Greatest Benefits in Nature. It was as great an Honour for Cato, when his Party was Broken, that He himself stood his Ground, as it would have been if he had carried the Day, and settled an Universal Peace: For it is an Equal Prudence, to make the Best of a Bad Game, and to manage a Good one. The Day that he was Repulsed, he Played; and the Night that he Killed himself, he Read; as valuing the Loss of his Life, and the Missing of an Office at the same Rate. People, I know, are apt to pronounce upon Other men's Infirmities, by the Measure of their Own, and to think it Impossible that a Man should be content to be burnt, Wounded, Killed, or Shackled, though in some Cases he may. It is only for a Great Mind to judge of Great things; for otherwise, that which is our Infirmity, will seem to be another Bodies; as a straight Stick in the Water appears to be Crooked. He that Yields, draws upon his own Head his own Ruin; for we are sure to get the better of Fortune, if we do but struggle with her. Fencers, and Wrestlers we see, what Blows, and Bruises they endure, not only for Honour, but for Exercise: If we turn our Backs once, we are Routed, and Pursued; That Man only is Happy, that Draws Good out of Evil; that stands fast in his Judgement, and Unmoved with any External Violence; or however, so little moved, that the Keenest Arrow in the Quiver of Fortune is but as the Prick of a Needle to him, rather than a Wound: And all her other Weapons fall upon him only as Hail upon the Roof of a House, that Crackles, and skips off again, without any Damage to the Inhabitant.  
A Generous, and a Clearsighted Young Man, will take it for 
d The greatest Evil in Adversity is the Submitting to it.  a Happiness to encounter Ill Fortune. 'Tis nothing for a Man to hold up his Head in a Calm, but to maintain his Post, when all others have quitted their Ground, and there to stand upright, where other Men are beaten Down, this is Divine, and Praiseworthy. What Ill is there in Torments, or in those things which we commonly account Grievous Crosses? The great Evil is the want of Courage; the Bowing, and Submitting to them; which can never happen to a Wise Man; for he stands Upright under any Weight: Nothing that is to be Born displeases him; he knows his Strength; and, whatsoever may be Any Man's Lot, he never complains of, if it be his Own. Nature, he says, deceives no Body; she does not tell us whether our Children shall be Fair, or Foul; Wise, or Foolish; Good Subjects, or Traitors; nor whether our Fortune shall be Good, or Bad. We must not Judge of a Man by his Ornaments▪ but strip him of all the Advantages, and the Impostures of Fortune; nay, of his very Body too, and look into his Mind: If he can see a naked Sword at his Eyes, without so much as winking; if he make it a thing Indifferent to him, whether his Life go out at his Throat, or at his Mouth; if he can hear himself Sentenced to Torments, or Exile; and under the very hand of the Executioner, say Thus to himself, All This I am provided for, and 'tis no more, than a Man, that is to Suffer the Fate of Humanity. This is the Temper of Mind that Speaks a Man Happy; and without This, all the Confluences of External Comforts signify no more than the Personating of a King upon the Stage; when the Curtain is drawn we are Players again. Not that I pretend to except a Wise Man out of the Number of Men, as if he had no sense of Pain, but I reckon him as Compounded of Body, and Soul: The Body is Irrational, and may be Galled, Burnt, Tortured; but the Rational Part is Fearless, Invincible, and not to be shaken. This is it that I reckon upon as the Supreme Good of Man; which till it be perfected, is but an Unsteady Agitation of Thought, and in the Perfection, an Immovable Stability. It is not in our Contentions with Fortune, as in those of the Theatre, where we may throw down our Arms, and pray for Quarter: but here we must Die Firm, and Resolute. There needs no Encouragement to those things which we are Inclined to by a Natural Instinct; as the Preservation of ourselves with Ease, and Pleasure; but, if it comes to the Trial of our Faith by Torments, or of our Courage by Wounds, these are Difficulties that we must be armed against by Philosophy, and Precept: And yet all This is no more than what we were born to; and no matter of Wonder at all; so that a Wise Man prepares himself for't; as expecting that whatsoever May be, Will be. My Body is Frail, and Liable, not only to the Impressions of Violence, but to Afflictions also, that Naturally Succeed our Pleasures. Full Meals bring Crudities; Whoring, and Drinking make the Hands to Shake, and the Knees to Tremble. It is only the Surprise, and Newness of the thing, which makes that Misfortune Terrible, which by Premeditation might be made Easie to us: For, that which some People make Light by Sufferance, others do by Foresight. Whatsoever is Necessary, we must bear Patiently. 'Tis no new thing to Die; no new thing to Mourn, and no new thing to be Merry again. Must I be Poor? I shall have Company; In Banishment? I'll think myself Born there. If I Die, I shall be no more Sick, and 'tis a thing I can do but Once.  
LET us never wonder at any thing 
e Let no Man be Surprised with what he is Born to  we are Borne to; for no Man has reason to Complain, where we are All in the same Condition. He that escapes, might have suffered; and 'tis but Equal to submit to the Law of Mortality. We must undergo the Colds of Winter, the Heats of Summer; the Distempers of the Air, and Diseases of the Body. A Wild Beast meets us in One place, and a Man that is more Brutal, in another; We are Here assaulted by Fire, There by Water. Demetrius was reserved by Providence for the Age he lived in; to show, that neither the Times could Corrupt Him, nor He Reform the People. He was a Man of an Exact Judgement, Steady to his Purpose, and of a Strong Eloquence; Not Finical in his Words, but his Sense was Masculine, and Vehement. He was so Qualified in his Life, and Discourse, that ho served both for an Example, and a Reproach. If Fortune should have offered that Man the Government, and the Possession of the whole World, upon Condition not to lay it down again; I dare say he would have refused it; And Thus have Expostulated the matter with you. Why should you tempt a Freeman to put his shoulder●… under a Burden; or an Honest Man to pollute himself with the Dregs of Mankind? Why do you offer me the Spoyles of Princes, and of Nations, and the Prince not only of your Blood, but of your Souls? It is the part of a Great Mind to be Temperate in Prosperity; Resolute in Adversity; To Despise what the Vulgar Admire; and to Prefer a Mediocrity to an Excess. Was not Socrates oppressed with Poverty, Labour, nay, and the worst of Wars in his Own Family, a Fierce, and Turbulent Woman to his Wife? Were not his Children Indocile, and like their Mother? After Seven and twenty years spent in Arms, he fell under a slavery to the Thirty Tyrants, and most of them his bitter Enemies: He came at last, to be Sentenced as a Violator of Religion, a Corrupter of Youth, and a Common Enemy to God, and Man. After This, he was Imprisoned, and put to Death by Poison; which was all so far from working upon his Mind, that it never so much as altered his Countenance. We are to bear Ill Accidents, as Unkind Seasons, Distempers, or Diseases; and, Why may we not reckon the Actions of Wicked Men even among those Accidents? Their Deliberations are not Counsels, but Frauds, Snares, and Inordinate Motions of the Mind; and they are never without a thousand Pretences, and Occasions of doing a Man Mischief. They have their Informers, their Knights of the Post; they can make an Interest with Powerful Men, and one may be Robbed as well upon the Bench, as upon the Highway. They lie in wait for Advantages, and live in Perpetual Agitation, betwixt Hope, and Fear: Whereas he that is truly Composed, will stand all Shocks, either of Violences, Flatteries, or Menaces, without Perturbation. It is an Inward fear that makes us Curious after what we hear Abroad.  
IT is an Error to attribute either Good, or Ill, to 
f The Works of Fortune are neither Good, nor Evil.  Fortune; but the Matter of it we may; and we ourselves are the Occasion of it, being, in Effect, the Artificers of our own Happiness, or Misery: For the Mind is above Fortune; if That be Evil, it makes every thing else so too: But if it be Right, and Sincere, it Corrects what is Wrong, and Mollifies what is Hard, with Modesty, and Courage. There's a great Difference among those that the World calls Wise Men. Some take up Private Resolutions of Opposing Fortune, but they cannot go Through with them, for they are either Dazzled with Splendour on the One hand, or Affrighted with Terrors on the Other: but there are Others that will Close, and Grapple with Fortune, and still come off Victorious. Mucius overcame the Fire, Regulus the Gibbet; Socrates, Poison; Rutilius, Banishment; Cato, Death; Fabricius, Riches; Tubero, Poverty; and Sextius, Honors. But there are some again so Delicate, that they cannot bear so much as a Scandalous Report; which is the same thing as if a Man should quarrel for being Justled in a Crowd, or dashed as he walks in the Streets; He that has a great way to Go, must expect to Slip, to Stumble, and to be Tired: To the Luxurious Man, Frugality is a Punishment; Labour, and Industry to the Sluggard; nay, Study itself is a Torment to him. Not that these things are Hard to us by Nature, but we ourselves are Vain, and Irresolute. Nay, we wonder many of us, how any Man can live without Wine, or endure to Rise so early in a Morning.  
A Brave man must expect to be tossed; for he is to steer his Course in the Teeth of Fortune, 
g Virtue is most Glorious in Extremities.  and to work against Wind, and weather. In the Suffering of Torments, though there appears but one Virtue, a Man Exercises many. That which is most Eminent, is Patience (which is but a Branch of Fortitude) But there is Prudence also, in the Choice of the Action, and in the Bearing what we cannot avoid; and there is Constancy in bearing it Resolutely; And there is the same Concurrence also of several Virtues in other Generous Undertake. When Leonidas was to carry his 300 Men into the Straits of the Thermopylae to put a stop to Xerxes his huge Army: Come, fellow Soldiers, says he, Eat your Dinners here, as if you were to Sup in another World. And they answered his Resolution. How Plain, and Imperious was That short Speech of Caeditius to his Men upon a Desperate Action? and, How glorious a Mixture was there in it both of Bravery, and Prudence! Soldiers, says he, it is necessary for us to Go, but it is not necessary for us to Return. This Brief, and Pertinent Harangue, was worth Ten thousand of the Frivolous Cavils, and Distinctions of the Schools; which rather break the Mind, than Fortify it, and when 'tis once perplexed, and pricked with Difficulties, and Scruples, there they leave it. Our Passions are Numerous, and Strong, and not to be Mastered with Quirks, and Tricks, as if a Man should undertake to defend the Cause of God, and Men, with a Bu●…rush. It was a Remarkable piece of Honour, and Policy together, That Action of Caesar's, upon the taking of Pompey's Cabinet at the Battle of Pharsalia: 'Tis Probable that the Letters in it might have discovered who were his Friends, and who his Enemies, and yet he Burnt it without so much as Opening it: Esteeming it the Noblest way of Pardoning, to keep himself Ignorant both of the Offender, and of the Offence. It was a Brave Presence of Mind also in Alexander, who, upon Advice, that his Physician Philip intended to Poison him, took the Letter of Advice in One hand, and the Cup in the Other, delivering Philip the Letter to Read, while he himself drank the Potion.  
SOME are of Opinion, that Death gives a 
h Virtue is Invincible.  Man Courage to support Pain, and that Pain fortifies a Man against Death: But I say rather, that a Wise Man depends upon himself against Both, and that he does not either suffer with Patience, in hopes of Death, or Dye willingly because he is weary of Life; but he bears the One, and Waits for the Other, and carries a Divine Mind through all the Accidents of Humane Life. He looks upon Faith, and Honesty, as the most Sacred Good of Mankind, and neither to be forced by Necessity, nor Corrupted by Reward: Kill, Burn, Tear him in Pieces, he will be True to his Trust; and the more any Man labours to make him discover a Secret, the deeper will he hide it. Resolution is the Inexpugnable Defence of Humane Weakness, and it is a wonderful Providence that attends it. Horatius Cocles opposed his Single Body to the whole Army, till the Bridge was cut down behind him, and then leaped into the River, with his Sword in his Hand, and came off safe to his Party. There was a Fellow Questioned about a Plot upon the Life of a Tyrant, and put to the Torture to declare his Confederates: He named, by One, and One, all the Tyrant's Friends that were about him; and still as they were named, they were put to Death: The Tyrant asked him at last, if there were any more. Yes, says he, you yourself were in the Plot, and now you have never another Friend left you in the World: Whereupon the Tyrant Cut the Throats of his own Guards. He is the Happy Man that is the Master of himself, and triumphs over the Fear of Death, which has overcome the Conquerors of the World.   

CHAP XVII. Our Happiness depends in a great Measure upon the Choice of our Company.  
THE Comfort of Life depends upon Conversation, Good Offices, and Concord; and Humane Society is like the Working of an Arch of Stone; All would fall to the Ground if One Piece did not support another. Above all things, let us have a tenderness for Blood; and it is yet too Little not to Hurt, unless we Profit one another. We are to Relieve the Distressed; to put the Wanderer into his Way, and to Divide our Bread with the Humble; which is but the doing of Good to ourselves: for we are only several Members of one Great Body. Nay, we are all of a Consanguinity; formed of the same Materials, and Designed to the same End: This obliges us to a mutual Tenderness, and Converse; and the Other, to live with a Regard to Equity, and Justice. The Love of Society is Natural; but the Choice of our Company is Matter of Virtue, and Prudence. Noble Examples stir us up to Noble Actions; and the very History of Large, and Public Souls, inspires a Man with Generous Thoughts. It makes a Man Long to be in Action; and doing of something that the World may be the better for; as Protecting the Weak, Delivering the Oppressed, Punishing the Insolent. It is a great Blessing, the very Conscience of giving a Good Example; beside, that it is the greatest Obligation any Man can lay upon the Age he lives in. He that Converses with the Proud shall be puffed up; a Lustful Acquaintance makes a Man Lascivious; and the way to secure a Man from Wickedness, is to withdraw from the Examples of it. 'Tis too Much to have them Near us, but more to have them Within us. Ill Example, Pleasure, and Ease are, no doubt of it, great Corrupters of Manners. A Rocky Ground hardens the Horse's Hoof; The Mountanier makes the best Soldier; The Miner makes the best Pionier, and Severity of Discipline fortifies the Mind. In all Excesses, and Extremities of Good, and of Ill Fortune, let us have recourse to Great Examples that have contemned Both. Those are the best Instructers that Teach in their Lives, and prove their Words by their Actions.  
AS an Ill Air may endanger a Good Constitution, so may a 
a Avoid even Dissolute places, as well as lose Companions.  Place of Ill Example endanger a Good Man. Nay, there are some Places that have a kind of Privilege to be Licentious, and where Luxury, and Dissolution of Manners seem to be Lawful; for Great Examples give both Authority, and Excuse to Wickedness. Those Places are to be avoided as Dangerous to our Manners. Hannibal himself was Unmanned by the Looseness of Campania, and though a Conqueror by his Arms, he was Overcome by his Pleasures. I would as soon live among Butchers, as among Cooks; not but that a Man may be Temperate in any place; but, to see Drunken Men Staggering up and down every where; and only the Spectacles of Lust, Luxury, and Excess before our Eyes, it is not safe to expose ourselves to the Temptation. If the Victorious Hannibal himself could not resist it, What shall become of Us then that are Subdued, and give Ground to our Lusts already. He that has to do with an Enemy in his Breast, has a harder Task upon him than he that is to encounter one in the Field: his hazard is Greater if he loses Ground, and his Duty is perpetual; for he has no Place, or Time for Rest. If I give way to Pleasure, I must also yield to Grief, to Poverty, to Labour, Ambition, Anger, till I am torn to Pieces by my Misfortunes, and my Lusts. But, against all This, Philosophy propounds a Liberty, that is to say, a Liberty from the Service of Accidents, and Fortune. There is not any thing that does more Mischief to Mankind, then Mercenary Masters of Philosophy, that do not Live as they Teach; They give a Scandal to Virtue. How can any Man expect that a Ship should Steer a Fortunate Course, when the Pilot lies Wallowing in his own Vomit. 'Tis an Usual thing, first to Learn to do Ill ourselves, and then to Instruct Others to do so: But, that Man must need●… be very Wicked, that has gathered into himself the Wickedness of all other People.  
THE best Conversation is with the 
b Practical Philosophers are the best Company.  Philosophers: That is to say, with such of them as teach us Matter, not Words; that Preach to us Things Necessary, and keep us to the Practice of them. There can be no Peace in Humane Life without the Contempt of all Events▪ There is nothing that either puts better Thoughts into a Man, or sooner sets him Right that is out of the way, than a good Companion▪ For, the Example has the Force of a Precept, and touches the Heart with an Affection to Goodness. And not only the Frequent Hearing, and Seeing of a Wise Man delights us, but the very Encounter of him suggests profitable Contemplations; such as a Man finds himself moved with, when he goes into a Holy Place. I will take more Care with Whom I Eat, and Drink, than What; for without a Friend the Table is a Manger. Writing does well; but personal Discourse, and Conversation does Better; For Men give great Credit to their Ears, and take stronger Impressions from Example, than Precept. Cleanthes had never hit Zeno so to the Life, if he had not been In with him at all his Privacies; if he had not watched, and observed him, whether or no he Practised as he Taught. Plato got more from Socrates his Manners, than from his Words; and it was not the School, but the Company, and Familiarity of Epicurus, that made Metrodorus, Hermachus, and Polyaenus so famous.  
NOW though it be by Instinct that we Covet Society, and avoid Solitude, we should yet 
c The more Company, the more Danger.  take This along with us, that the more Acquaintance, the more Danger. Nay, there is not One Man of an hundred that is to be trusted with Himself. If Company cannot Alter us, it may Interrupt us; and he that so much as stops upon the Way, loses a great deal of a short Life; which we yet make shorter by our Inconstancy. If an Enemy were at our Heels, What haste should we make? But Death is so, and yet we never mind it. There is no venturing of Tender, and Easy Natures among the People; for 'tis odds that they'll go over to the Major Party. It would perhaps shake the Constancy of Socrates, Cato, Laelius, or any of us all; even when our Resolutions are at the Height, to stand the shock of Vice that presses upon us with a Kind of Public Authority. It is a World of Mischief that may be done by one Single Example of Avarice, or Luxury. One Voluptuous Palate makes a great many. A wealthy Neighbour Stirs up Envy, and a Fleering Companion moves Ill Nature wherever he comes. What will become of Those People then, that expose themselves to a Popular Violence? Which is ill both ways; either if they comply with the Wicked, because they are Many, or quarrel with the Multitude, because they are not Principled alike. The best way is to Retire, and Associate only with those, that may be the better for Us, and We for Them. These Respects are Mutual, for while we Teach, we Learn. To deal Freely; I dare not trust myself in the Hands of much Company: I never go Abroad, that I come Home again the same Man I went Out. Some thing or other that I had put in Order, is discomposed: Some Passion that I had subdued, gets head again, and it is just with our Minds, as it is after a long Indisposition with our Bodies; we are grown so Tender, that the least breath of Air exposes us to a Relapse. And, it is no wonder, if a Numerous Conversation be Dangerous, when there is scarce any single Man, but by his Discourse, Example, or Behaviour, does either Recommend to us, or Imprint in us, or by a Kind of Contagion, Insensibly infect us with one Vice or other; and the more People, the greater is the Peril. Especially let us have a Care of Public Spectacles, where Wickedness insinuates itself with Pleasure; and above all Others, let us avoid Spectacles of Cruelty, and Blood; and have nothing to do with those that are perpetually Whining, and Complaining; there may be Faith, and Kindness there, perhaps, but no Peace. People that are either Sad, or Fearful, we do commonly, for their Own Sakes, set a guard upon them, for fear they should make an Ill Use of being Alone: especially the Imprudent, who are still contriving of Mischief, either for Others, or for Themselves; in Cherishing their Lusts, or Forming their Designs. So much for the Choice of a Companion, we shall now Proceed to that of a Friend.   

CHAP. XVIII. The Blessings of Friendship.  
OF all Felicities, the most Charming is that of a Firm, and Gentle Friendship. It sweetens all our Cares; dispels our Sorrows; and Counsels us in all Extremities. Nay, if there were no other Comfort in't, than the bare Exercise of so Generous a Virtue, even for that Single Reason, a Man would not be without it. Beside, that it is a Sovereign Antidote against all Calamities; even against the Fear of Death itself.  
BUT, we are not yet to number our 
a Every Man is not a Friend that makes us a Visit.  Friends, by the Visits that are made us; and to confound the Decencies of Ceremony, and Commerce, with the Offices of United Affections. Caius Gracchus, and after him, Livius Drusus, were the Men that introduced among the Romans, the Fashion of separating their Visitants: Some were taken into the Closet; Others were only admitted into the Antichamber; and some again were fain to wait in the Hall perhaps, or in the Court. So that they had their First, their Second, and their Third-rate Friends; but none of them True: Only they are called so in Course, as we Salute Strangers with some Title or other of Respect at a Venture. There's no depending upon those Men that only take their Compliment in their Turn, and rather slip through the Door, than enter at it: He will find himself in a great Mistake, that either seeks for a Friend in a Palace, or tries him at a Feast.  
THE great Difficulty rests in the 
b The Choice of a Friend.  Choice of him; that is to say, in the First place, let him be Virtuous; for Vice is Contagious, and there's no trusting of the Sound, and the Sick together: And he ought to be a Wise Man too, if a body knew where to find him: But, in this Case, he that is least Ill, is Best; and the highest Degree of Humane Prudence is, only the most Venial Folly. That Friendship, where men's Affections are Cemented by an equal, and by a Common Love of Goodness, it is not either Hope, or Fear, or any Private Interest that can ever Dissolve it; but we carry it with us to our Graves, and lay down our Lives for it with satisfaction. Paulina's Good, and Mine, (says our Author) were so wrapped up together, that in Consulting Her Comfort, I provided for my Own: and when I could not prevail upon Her to take less Care for Me, she prevailed upon me to take more Care of myself. Some People make it a Question, Whether is the greater Delight, the Enjoying of an Old Friendship: or, the Acquiring of a New one; but, it is in the Preparing of a Friendship, and in the Possession of it, as it is with a Husbandman, in Sowing, and Reaping. His Delight is the Hope of his Labour in the One Case, and the Fruit of it in the Other. My Conversation lies among my Books, but yet in the Letters of a Friend methinks I have his Company; and when I Answer them, I do not only Write, but Speak: And in Effect, a Friend is an Eye, a Heart, a Tongue, a Hand, at all Distances. When Friends see one another personally, they do not see one another as they do when they are Divided, where the Meditation dignifies the Prospect: But they are effectually in a great measure Absent, even when they are Present. Consider their Nights apart; their Private Studies; their separate Employments, and Necessary Visits, and they are almost as much together Divided, as Present. True Friends are the whole World to one another; and he that is is a Friend to himself, is also a Friend to Mankind. Even in my very Studies, the greatest Delight I take in what I Learn, is the Teaching of it to Others: For, there's no Relish, methinks, in the Possessing of any thing without a Partner: Nay, if Wisdom itself were offered me, upon Condition only of keeping it to myself, I should undoubtedly refuse it.  
LUCILIUS tells me, that he has Written to me by a 
c There must be no Reserves in Friendship.  Friend, but cautions me withal, not to say any thing to him of the Affair in Question; for he himself stands upon the same Guard. What is this, but to Affirm, and to Deny the same thing, in the same Breath; in calling any Man a Friend, whom we dare not trust as our own Soul? For, there must be no Reserves in Friendship: As much Deliberation as you please, before the League is Struck: but, no Doubtings, or Jealousies, after. 'Tis a Preposterous weakness to Love a Man before we Know him, and not to Care for him after. It requires Time, to consider of a Friendship; but, the Resolution once taken, Entitles him to my very heart, I look upon my thoughts to be as safe in his Breast, as in my Own; I shall, without any Scruple, make him the Confident of my most Secret Cares, and Counsels. It goes a great way toward the Making of a Man Faithful, to let him understand, that you Think him so; and he that does but so much as Suspect that I will Deceive him, gives me a kind of Right to Cozen him. When I am with my Friend, methinks I am alone, and as much at Liberty to Speak any thing, as to Think it; And as our Hearts are One, so must be our Interests, and Convenience: For Friendship lays all things in Common, and nothing can be Good to the One, that is Ill to the Other. I do not speak of such a Community as to destroy one another's Propriety; but as the Father, and the Mother have two Children, not one a Piece, but each of them Two.  
BUT, let us have a Care above all things, that our Kindness 
d A Generous Friendship.  be rightly founded; for, where there is any other Invitation to Friendship, than the Friendship itself, that Friendship will be Bought, and Sold. He derogates from the Majesty of it, that makes it only dependent upon Good Fortune. It is a Narrow Consideration for a Man to please himself in the thought of a Friend, because, says he, I shall have One to help me, when I am Sick; in Prison, or in Want. A Brave Man should rather take delight in the Contemplation of Doing the same Offices for another. He that loves a Man for his own Sake, is in an Error. A Friendship of Interest cannot last any longer than the Interest itself; and this is the Reason that Men in Prosperity are so much followed; and when a Man goes down the Wind, no body comes near him. Temporary Friends will never stand the Test. One Man is Forsaken for Fear, or Profit; Another is Betrayed: 'Tis a Negotiation, not a Friendship, that has an Eye to Advantages: only through the Corruption of Times, that which was formerly a Friendship, is now become a Design upon a Booty; Alter your Testament, and you lose your Friend. But, my End of Friendship, is to have One dearer to me than myself; and for the saving of whose Life, I would cheerfully lay down my Own: taking this along with me, that only Wise Men can be Friends; Others are but Companions; and that there's a great Difference also betwixt Love, and Friendship; The One may sometime do us Hurt; the Other always does us Good; for One Friend is Helpful to Another in all Cases, as well in Prosperity, as Affliction. We receive Comfort even at a Distance, from those we Love, but than it is Light, and Faint: whereas Presence, and Conversation touches us to the Quick; especially if we find the Man we Love to be such a person as we wish.  
IT is Usual with Princes to Reproach the Living, by Commending the Dead; and to 
e The Loss of a Friend is hardly to be Repaired.  Praise those People for speaking Truth, from whom there is no longer any Danger of Hearing it. This was Augustus his Case. He was forced to banish his daughter julia, for her Common, and Prostituted Impudence; and still, upon Fresh Informations, he was often heard to say; If Agrippa, or Maecenas had been now alive, this would never have been. But yet where the Fault lay, may be a Question; for perchance it was his Own, that had rather complain for the Want of them, than seek for Others as Good. The Roman Losses by War, and by Fire, Augustus could quickly Supply, and Repair; but for the Loss of Two Friends, he lamented his whole Life after. Xerxes (a Vain, and a Foolish Prince) when he made War upon Greece, One told him, 'Twould never come to a Battle: Another, That he would find only empty Cities, and Countries, for they would not so much as stand the very Fame of his Coming; Others soothed him in the Opinion of his Prodigious Numbers, and they all concurred to puff him up to his destruction. Only Demaratus advised him, not to depend too much upon his Numbers, for he would rather find them a Burden to him than an advantage: And that 300 Men in the straits of the Mountains, would be sufficient to give a Check to his whole Army; and that such an Accident would Undoubtedly turn his vast Numbers to his Confusion. It fell out afterward as he foretold, and he had Thanks for his Fidelity. A Miserable Prince, that among so many Thousand Subjects, had but One Servant to tell him the Truth!   

CHAP. XIX. He that would be happy, must take an Account of his Time.  
IN the distribution of Humane Life, we find, that a great part of it passes away in Evil-doing; A Greater yet, in doing just Nothing at all; and effectually, the whole, in doing things beside our business. Some hours we bestow upon Ceremony, and Servile Attendances; Some upon our Pleasures, and the Remainder runs at Waste. What a deal of Time is it that we spend in Hopes, and Fears; Love, and Revenge; in Balls, Treats, making of Interests; Suing for Offices, Soliciting of Causes, and Slavish Flatteries? The shortness of Life, I know, is the Common Complaint both of Fools, and Philosophers; as if the Time we have, were not sufficient for our duties. But 'tis with our Lives, as with our Estates, a good Husband makes a Little go a great way; whereas let the Revenue of a Prince fall into the Hands of a Prodigal, 'tis gone in a moment. So that the Time allotted us, if it were well employed, were abundantly enough to answer all the Ends, and Purposes of Mankind. But, we squander it away in Avarice, Drink, Sleep, Luxury, Ambition; fawning Addresses, Envy, Rambling Voyages; Impertinent Studies, Change of Counsels, and the like; and when our Portion is spent, we find the want of it, though we gave no heed to it in the Passage: In so much, that we have rather Made our Life Short, than found it so. You shall have some People perpetually playing with their Fingers, Whistling, Humming, and Talking to themselves; and Others consume their days in the Composing, Hearing, or Reciting of Songs, and Lampoons. How many precious Mornings do we spend in Consultation with Barbers, Tailors, and Tire-Women, Patching, and Painting, betwixt the Comb, and the Glass? A Counsel must be called upon every Hair we cut, and one Curl amiss, is as much as a Body's Life is worth. The truth is, we are more solicitous about our Dress, than our Manners, and about the Order of our Periwigs, than that of the Government. At this rate, let us but discount, out of a Life of a Hundred years, that Time which has been spent upon Popular Negotiations, frivolous Amours, Domestic Brawls, Sauntrings up and down, to no purpose; Diseases that we have brought upon ourselves; and this large extent of Life will not amount perhaps to the Minority of another Man. It is a Long Being, but perchance a Short Life. And what's the Reason of all this? we Live as if we should never Die, and without any thought of Humane Frailty; when yet the very Moment we bestow upon this Man, or Thing, may peradventure be our last. But the greatest Loss of Time, is Delay, and Expectation, which depends upon the Future. We let go the Present, which we have in our own Power, we look Forward to that which depends upon Fortune, and so quit a Certainty for an Uncertainty. We should do by Time, as we do by a Torrent, make Use of it while we may have it, for it will not last always.  
THE Calamities of Humane Nature, may be Divided into 
f No Man can be Happy to whom Life is Irksome, or Death Terrible.  the Fear of Death, and the Miseries, and Errors of Life. And it is the great Work of Mankind, to Master the One, and to Rectify the Other: And so to Live, as neither to make Life Irksome to us, nor Death Terrible. It should be our Care, before we are Old, to Live Well, and when we are so, to Die well; that we may expect our End without Sadness: For it is the Duty of Life to prepare ourselves for Death; and there is not an hour we Live, that does not Mind us of our Mortality: Time Runs on, and all things have their Fate, though it lies in the Dark: The Period is Certain to Nature, but, What am I the better for it, if it be not so to me? We propound Travels, Arms, Adventures, without ever considering that Death lies in the way; Our Term is set, and none of us Know how Near it is; but we are all of us Agreed, that the Decree is Unchangeable. Why should we wonder, to have That befall us to Day, which might have happened to us any Minute since we were Born? Let us therefore Live as if every Moment were to be our Last; and set our Accounts Right, every day that passes over our Heads. We are not Ready for Death, and therefore we Fear it, because we do not know what will become of us when we are gone; and that Consideration strikes us with an Inexplicable Terror. The way to avoid this Distraction, is to contract our Business, and our Thoughts; when the Mind is once settled; a Day, or an Age is all One to us, and the Series of Time, which is now our Trouble, will be then our delight: For he that is Steadily resolved against all Uncertainties, shall never be disturbed with the Variety of them. Let us make haste therefore to Live, since every day to a Wise Man is a New Life: For, he has done his business the Day before, and so prepared himself for the next, that if it be not his Last, he knows yet that it might have been so. No Man enjoys the true Taste of Life, but he that is willing, and Ready to Quit it.  
THE Wit of Man is not able to Express the 
g We take more care of our Fortunes than of our Lives.  Blindness of Humane Folly, in taking so much more Care of our Fortunes, our Houses, and our Money, than we do of our Lives; Every Body breaks in upon the One, Gratis, but we betake ourselves to Fire, and Sword, if any Man invades the Other. There's no Dividing in the Case of Patrimony, but People share our Time with us at pleasure: So Profuse are we of that only thing, whereof we may be Honestly Covetous. 'Tis a Common Practice to ask an Hour or two of a Friend, for such, or such a business, and it is as easily granted; both Parties only considering the Occasion, and not the Thing itself. They never put Time to Account, which is the most Valuable of all precious things; but because they do not see it, they reckon upon it as Nothing; and yet these Easy Men, when they come to Die, would give the whole World for those hours again, which they so Inconsiderately cast away before; but there's no recovering of them. If they could number their Days that are yet to Come, as they can those that are already past, How would those very People tremble at the Apprehension of Death, though a Hundred year hence, that never so much as think of it at present, though they know not but it may take them away the next Immediate Minute. 'Tis an usual saying, I would give my Life for such or such a Friend, when at the same time we Do give it, without so much as thinking of it: Nay, when That Friend is never the better for it, and we ourselves the worse. Our Time is set, and Day and Night we Travel On; there's no Baiting by the way, and 'tis not in the Power of either Prince, or People to prolong it. Such is the Love of Life, that even those Decrepit Dotards that have lost the Use of it, will yet beg the Continuance of it, and make themselves Younger than they are, as if they could cozen even Fate itself. When they fall Sick, what promises of Amendment, if they scape that Bout? What Exclamations against the Folly of their Misspent Time! And yet, if they Recover, they Relapse. No Man takes Care to Live Well, but Long, when yet it is in every Body's Power to do the Former, and in no Mans to do the Latter. We consume our Lives, in providing the very Instruments of Life, and govern ourselves still with a Regard to the Future; So that we do not Properly Live, but we are about to Live. How great a shame is it, to be laying new Foundations of Life, at our last Gasp, and for an Old Man, (that can only prove his Age by his Beard) with one Foot in the Grave, to go to School again. While we are Young, we may Learn: Our Minds are Tractable, and our Bodies fit for Labour, and Study; but when Age comes On, we are seized with Languor, and Sloth, afflicted with Diseases, and at last we leave the World as Ignorant as we came into it; Only we Die worse than we were Born; which is none of Nature's Fault, but Ours; for our Fears, Suspicions, Perfidy, etc. are from ourselves. I wish with all my Soul, that I had thought of my End sooner, but I must make the more Haste now, and Spurr on, like those that set out Late upon a Journey; It will be better to Learn Late, than not at all, though it be but only to instruct me, how I may leave the Stage with Honor.  
IN the Division of Life, there is time Present, Past, and to Come. What we Do, is Short; what 
h Time Present, Past, and to come.  we Shall do, is Doubtful; but, what we Have done, is Certain, and out of the Power of Fortune. The Passage of Time is wonderfully quick, and a Man must look Backward to see it: and in that Retro-spect, he has all past Ages at a View, but the Present gives us the slip Unperceived. 'Tis but a Moment that we Live, and yet we are Dividing it into Childhood, Youth, Man's Estate, and Old Age, all which Degrees we bring into that narrow Compass. If we do not watch, we lose our Opportunities; if we do not make Haste, we are left behind; Our Best hours scape us, the Worst are to come. The Purest part of our Life runs First, and leaves only the Dregs at the Bottom: And That Time, which is good for nothing else, we dedicate to Virtue; and only propound to Begin to Live, at an Age that very few People arrive at. What greater Folly can there be in the World, than this Loss of Time, the Future being so Uncertain, and the Damages so Irreparable? If Death be Necessary, why should any Man Fear it? And if the Time of it be Uncertain, Why should we not always Expect it? We should therefore First Prepare ourselves by a Virtuous Life, against the Dread of an Inevitable Death: And it is not for us to put off being Good, till such, or such a Business is Over; for One business draws on Another, and we do as good as Sow it; one Grain produces more. We are not to Philosophise when we have nothing else to do, but to attend Wisdom, even to the neglect of all things else, for we are so far from having Time to spare, that the Age of the World would be yet too narrow for the work we have to do; nor is it enough not to Omit it, but we must not so much as Intermit it.  
THERE is nothing that we can 
i We can call nothing our Own, but our Time.  properly call our Own, but our Time, and yet every Body fools us out of it, that has a mind to't. If a Man borrows a Paltry Sum of Money, there must be Bonds, and Securities, and every Common Civility is presently charged upon Account: But, he that has my Time, thinks he owes me nothing for't, though it be a Debt, that Gratitude itself can never repay. I cannot call any Man Poor, that has Enough yet left, be it never so Little: 'Tis good Advice yet to those that have the World before them, to play the Good Husbands betimes, for 'tis too late to spare at the Bottom, when all is drawn out to the Lees. He that takes away a Day from me, takes away what he can never restore me. But our Time is either Forced away from us, or Stolen from us, or Lost: of which, the last is the Foulest Miscarriage. It is in Life, as in a Journey; a Book, or a Companion, brings us to our Lodging before we thought we were halfway. Upon the whole Matter, we consume ourselves one upon another, without any regard at all to our own Particular. I do not speak of such as Live in Notorious Scandal, but even they themselves, whom the World pronounces happy, are smothered in their Felicities; Servants to their Professions, and Clients, and drowned in their Lusts. We are apt to Complain of the Haughtiness of Great Men, when yet there is hardly any of them all so proud, but that at some time or other a Man may yet have Access to him, and perhaps a good Word, or Look into the Bargain. Why do we not rather Complain of Ourselves, for being of all others, even to ourselves, the most Deaf, and Inaccessible.  
COMPANY, and Business, are great 
k Company, and Business are great Devourers of Time.  Devourers of Time, and Our Vices destroy our Lives, as well as our Fortunes. The Present is but a Moment, and perpetually in Flux; the Time passed we call to mind when we please, and it will abide the Examination and Inspection. But, the Busy Man has not Leisure to look Back; or if he has, 'tis an Unpleasant thing to reflect upon a Life to be repent of: Whereas the Conscience of a Good Life puts a Man into a secure, and perpetual Possession of a Felicity never to be disturbed, or taken away: But he that has led a wicked Life, is afraid of his own Memory, and in the Review of himself he finds only appetite, Avarice, or Ambition, in stead of Virtue. But still he that is not at Leisure many times to Live, must, when his Fate comes, whether he will or no, be at Leisure to Die. Alas! What is Time to Eternity? the Age of a Man, to the Age of the World? And how much of this Little do we spend in Fears, Anxieties, Tears, Childhood; nay, we sleep away the one half. How great a Part of it runs away in Luxury, and Excess; the Ranging of our Guests, our Servants, and our Dishes? As if we were to Eat, and Drink, not for Satiety, but Ambition. The Nights may well seem short that are so dear bought, and bestowed upon Wine, and Women: The day is lost in Expectation of the Night, and the Night in the Apprehension of the Morning. There is a Terror in our very Pleasures; and This vexatious Thought in the very height of them, that They will not last always: which is a Canker in the delights, even of the Greatest, and the most Fortunate of Men.   

CHAP. XX. Happy is the Man that may choose his own Business.  
OH! the Blessings of Privacy, and Leisure! the Wish of the Powerful, and Eminent, but the Privilege only of Inferiors: For it is They alone that live to themselves: Nay, the very Thought, and Hope of it, is a Consolation, even in the middle of all the Tumults, and Hazards, that attend Greatness. It was Augustus his Prayer that he might live to Retire, and deliver himself from Public Business: His Discourses were still pointing that way, and the highest Felicity which this Mighty Prince had in Prospect, was the divesting himself of that Illustrious State, which, how Glorious soever in show, had, at the Bottom of it only Anxiety, and Care. But, it is One thing to Retire for Pleasure, and another thing for Virtue: which must be Active, even in that Retreat, and give Proof of what it has learned: for a Good, and a Wise Man does in Privacy consult the well-being of Posterity. Zeno, and Chrysippus did greater things in their Studies, than if they had led Armies, born Offices, or given Laws: which in truth they did, not to one City alone, but to all Mankind: their Quiet contributed more to the Common Benefit, than the Sweat, and Labour of other People. That Retreat is not worth the while, which does not afford a Man, Greater, and Nobler Work than Business. There's no slavish Attendance upon great Officers; no Canvasing for Places, no making of Parties: no Disappointments in my Pretention to This Charge, to that Regiment; or to such, or such a Title: no Envy of any Man's Favour, or Fortune: but a Calm Enjoyment of the General Bounties of Providence, in Company with a Good Conscience. A Wise Man is never so Busy, as in the Solitary Contemplation of God, and the Works of Nature. He withdraws himself to attend the Service of Future Ages, and those Counsels which he finds salutary to himself, he commits to Writing, for the Good of Aftertimes, as we do the Receipts of Sovereign Antidotes, or Balsams. He that is well employed in his Study, though he may seem to do nothing at all, does the greatest things yet of all others, in Affairs both Humane and Divine. To supply a Friend with a Sum of Money, or give my Voice for an Office, these are only Private, and Particular Obligations; but he that lays down Precepts for the governing of our Lives, and the moderating of our Passions, obliges Humane Nature, not only in the Present, but in all succeeding Generations.  
HE that would be at quiet, let him repair to his 
a Philosophy is a quiet Study.  Philosophy, a Study, that has Credit with all sorts of Men. The Eloquence of the Bar, or whatsoever else addresses to the People, is never without Enemies: but Philosophy minds its own Business, and even the worst have an Esteem for't. There can never be such a Conspiracy against Virtue; the World can never be so wicked, but the very Name of a Philosopher shall still continue Venerable, and Sacred. And yet Philosophy itself must be handled Modestly, and with Caution. But what shall we say of Cato then, for his meddling in the Broil of a Civil War, and interposing himself in the Quarrel betwixt two enraged Princes? He, that when Rome was split into Two Factions, betwixt Pompey and Caesar, declared himself against Both. I speak this of Cato's last Part, for in his Former time the Common Wealth was made unfit for a Wise Man's Administration. All he could do then, was but Bawling, and Beating of the Air; One while he was Lugged, and Tumbled by the Rabble, Spit upon, and Dragged out of the Forum, and then again hurried out of the Senate-house to Prison. There are some things which we propound Originally, and others that fall in as Accessary to another Proposition. If a Wise Man Retire, 'tis no matter whether he does it, because the Commonwealth was wanting to Him, or because He was wanting to It. But, to what Republic shall▪ a Man betake himself? Not to Athens▪ where Socrates was condemned, and whence Aristotle fled for fear he should have been condemned too; and where Virtue was oppressed by Envy. Not to Carthage, where there was nothing but Tyranny, Injustice, Cruelty, and Ingratitude. There is scarce any Government to be found, that will either endure a Wise Man, or which a Wise Man will endure: So that Privacy is made Necessary, because the only thing which is Better, is no where to be had. A Man may commend Navigation, and yet Caution us against those Seas that are Troublesome, and Dangerous: So that he does as good as command me not to weigh Anchor, that commends Sailing only upon these Terms. He that is a slave to Business, is the most wretched of Slaves.  
BUT how shall I get myself at Liberty? 
b Liberty is to be Purchas●…d at any Rate.  We can run any hazards for Money; take any Pains for Honour; And why do we not venture something also for Leisure, and Freedom? without which we must expect to live and die in a Tumult: For, so long as we live in Public, Business breaks in upon us, as one Billow drives on another; and there's no avoiding it with either Modesty, or Quiet. It is a kind of Whirlpool, that sucks a Man In, and he can never disengage himself. A Man of Business cannot in truth be said to Live, and not one of a Thousand understands how to do it: for how to Live, and how to Die, is the Lesson of every moment of our Lives: All other Arts have their Masters. As a Busy Life is always a Miserable Life, so is it the greatest of all Miseries, to be perpetually employed upon Other people's Business: For to Sleep, to Eat to Drink at their hours, to walk their Pace, and to Love, and Hate, as they do, is the Vilest of Servitudes. Now though Business must be quitted, let it not be done Unseasonably; the longer we defer it, the more we endanger our Liberty; and yet we must no more Fly before the Time, than Linger when the Time comes: Or however, we must not love Business for Business sake; nor indeed do we, but for the Profit that goes along with it: For we Love the Reward of Misery, though we Hate the Misery itself. Many People, I know, seek Business without Choosing it, and they are even weary of their Lives without it, for want of Entertainment in their own Thoughts: The Hours are Long, and Hateful to them when they are Alone, and they seem as short on the other side in their Debauches. When they are no longer Candidates they are Suffragants: When they give over Other people's Business, they do their Own; and pretend Business, but they make it, and value themselves upon being thought Men of Employment. Liberty is the thing which they are perpetually a wishing, and never come to Obtain: A thing neither to be Bought, nor Sold; but a Man must Ask it of Himself, and Give it to himself. He that has given proof of his Virtue in Public, should do well to make trial of it in Private also. It is not that Solitude, or a Country Life teaches Innocence, or Frugality; but Vice falls of itself, without Witnesses, and Spectators; for the thing it designs is to be taken notice of. Did ever any Man put on Rich clothes, not to be seen? Or spread the Pomp of his Luxury where no body was to take notice of it? If it were not for Admirers, and Spectators, there would be no Temptations to Excess; the very Keeping of us from Exposing them, Cures us of Desiring them, for Vanity, and Intemperance are fed with Ostentation.  
HE that has lived at Sea in a Storm, let him Retire, and Dye in the Haven: But let his Retreat 
c Several People withdraw for several Ends.  be without Ostentation, and wherein he may enjoy himself with a good Conscience, without the Want, the Fear, the Hatred, or the Desire of any thing: Not out of a Malevolent Detestation of Mankind, but for Satisfaction, and Repose. He that shuns both Business, and Men, either out of Envy, or any other Discontent, his Retreat is but to the Life of a Mole: Nor does he Live to Himself, as a Wise Man does, but to his Bed, his Belly, and his Lusts. Many People seem to Retire out of a weariness of Public Affairs, and the Trouble of Disappointments; and yet Ambition finds them out even in that Recess, into which, Fear, and Wearyness had cast them; and so does Luxury, Pride, and most of the Distempers of a Public Life. There are many that Lie Close, not that they may Live Securely, but that they may Transgress more Privately; It is their Conscience, not their State, that makes them keep a Porter, for they live at such a Rate, that to be seen before they be aware, is to be detected. Crates saw a young Man walking by himself; Have a Care, says he, Of Lewd Company. Some Men are Busy in Idleness, and make Peace more Laborious, and Troublesome than War: Nay, and more Wicked too, when they bestow it upon such Lusts, and other Vices, which even the Licence of a Military Life would not endure. We cannot call these People Men of Leisure, that are wholly taken up with their Pleasures. A Troublesome Life is much to be preferred before a slothful one, and it is a Strange thing methinks, that any Man should fear Death, that has buried himself alive; as Privacy, without Letters, is but the Burying of a Man Quick.  
THERE are some that make a Boast of their 
d Some Men retire to be talked of.  Retreat, which is but a kind of Lazy Ambition: they Retire, to make People talk of Them, whereas I would rather withdraw to speak with myself. And what shall that be, but that which we are apt to speak one of another? I will speak Ill of myself; I will Examine, Accuse, and Punish my Infirmities. I have no design to be cried up for a Great Man, that has renounced the World, in a Contempt of the Vanity, and Madness of Humane Life; I blame no body but myself, and I address only to myself. He that comes to me for help, is Mistaken, for I am not a Physician, but a Patient: And I shall be well enough content to have it said, when any Man leaves me, I took him for a Happy, and a Learned Man, and truly I find no such matter. I had rather have my Retreat Pardoned, than Envied. There are some Creatures that Confound their Footing about their Dens, that they may not be found out, and so should a Wise Man in the Case of his Retirement. When the Door is open, the Thief passes it by, as not worth his while; but, when 'tis Bolted, and Sealed, 'tis a Temptation for People to be prying. To have it said, That such a one is never out of his Study; and sees no Body, etc. this Furnishes Matter for Discourse. He that makes his Retirement too Srict, and Severe, does as good as Call Company to take Notice of it.  
EVERY Man knows his Own Constitution. One Eases his Stomach by Vomit, Another supports 
e Philosophy requires Privacy, and Freedom.  it with good Nourishment: he that has the Gout forbears Wine, and Bathing; and every Man applies to the Part that is most Infirm. He that shows a Gouty Foot, a Lame Hand, or Contracted Nerves, shall be permitted to lie still, and attend his Cure. And why not so in the Vices of his Mind? We must discharge all Impediments, and make way for Philosophy, as a Study Inconsistent with Common Business. To all other things we must deny ourselves openly, and frankly; When we are Sick, we refuse Visits, keep ourselves Close, and lay aside all Public Cares: and shall we not do as much when we Philosophise? Business is the Drudgery of the World, and only fit for Slaves, but Contemplation is the Work of Wise Men. Not but that Solitude, and Company may be allowed to take their Turns: the One Creates in us the Love of Mankind, the Other, That of ourselves: Solitude Relieves us when we are Sick of Company; and Conversation, when we are weary of being Alone; So that the One Cures the Other. There is no Man, in fine, so miserable, as he that is at a Loss how to spend his Time. He is Restless in his Thoughts; unsteady in his Counsels; Dissatisfied with the Present, Solicitous for the Future; whereas he that prudently computes his Hours and his Business, does not only fortify himself against the Common Accidents of Life, but Improves the most Rigorous Dispensations of Providence to his Comfort; and stands Firm under all the Trials of Humane Weakness.   

CHAP. XXI. The Contempt of Death makes all the Miseries of Life Easy to us.  
IT is a hard Task to Master the Natural Desire of Life, by a Philosophical Contempt of Death; and to convince the World, that there is no hurt in't, and crush an Opinion that was brought up with us from our Cradles. What help? What Encouragement? What shall we say to Humane Frailty, to carry it Fearless through the Fury of Flames, and upon the Points of Swords? What Rhetoric shall we use to bear down the Universal Consent of People to so dangerous an Error? The Captious, and Superfine Subtleties of the Schools will never do the Work: They speak many sharp things, but utterly unnecessary, and void of Effect. The Truth of it is, there is but one Chain that holds all the World in Bondage, and that's the Love of Life. It is not that I propound the making of Death so Indifferent to us, as it is whether a Man's Hairs be Even, or Odd: For what with Self-Love, and an Implanted Desire in every thing of Preserving itself, and a long Acquaintance betwixt the Soul, and Body; Friends may be loath to part, and Death may carry an Appearance of Evil, though in truth it is itself no Evil at all. Beside that, we are to go to a strange Place, in the Dark, and under great Uncertainties of our Future State: So that People Dye in Terror, because they do not know whither they are to go, and they are apt to Fancy the worst of what they do not understand: and these Thoughts indeed are enough to startle a Man of great Resolution●…, without a wonderful Support from Above. And moreover our Natural Scruples, and Infirmities are assisted by the Wits, and Fancies of all Ages, in their Infamous, and Horrid Descriptions of another World: Nay, taking it for granted, that there will be a Reward, and Punishment, they are yet more afraid of an Annihilation, than of Hell itself.  
BUT, What is it we fear? Oh! 'Tis a terrible thing to Die. But, is it not better Once to Suffer it, 
a 'Tis a Folly to Fear Death.  than always to Fear it? the Earth itself suffers both With me, and Before me. How many Islands are swallowed up in the Sea? How many Towns do we Sail over? Nay, How many Nations are wholly Lost, either by Inundations, or Earthquakes? And, Shall I be afraid of my little Body? Why should I, that am sure to Die, and that all other things are Mortal, be fearful of coming to my last Gasp myself? It is the Fear of Death that makes us Base, and troubles, and destroys the Life that we would preserve: That Aggravates all Circumstances, and makes them Formidable. We depend but upon a Flying Moment. Dye we must; but When? what's that to us; It is the Law of Nature; the Tribute of Mortals, and the Remedy of all Evils. 'Tis only the Disguise that affrights us; as Children that are Terrified with a Visor. Take away the Instruments of Death, the Fire, the Axe, the Guards, the Executioners, the Whips, and the Wracks: take away the Pomp, I say, and the Circumstances that accompany it, and Death is no more than what my Slave yesterday Contemned: The Pain is nothing to a Fit of the Stone; if it be Tolerable, it is not Great; and if Intolerable, it cannot last long. There is nothing that Nature has made Necessary, which is more Easy than Death: We are longer a coming into the World, than going out of it; and there is not any Minute of our Lives, wherein we may not Reasonably Expect it. Nay, 'tis but a Moment's Work, the parting of the Soul, and Body. What a shame is it then to stand in Fear of any thing so Long, that is done so Soon?  
NOR is it any great matter to 
b The Fear of Death is Easily overcome.  overcome this Fear: For we have Examples as well of the meanest of Men, as of the greatest that have done it. There was a Fellow to be exposed upon the Theatre, who, in disdain, thrust a Stick down his Own Throat, and Choked himself: And another on the same Occasion, pretending to nod upon the Chariot, as if he were asleep, cast his head betwixt the Spokes of the Wheel, and kept his Seat till his Neck was broken. Caligula, upon a dispute with Canius julus; do not flatter yourself, says he, for I have given Order to put you to Death. And I thank your most Gracious Majesty for it, says Canius, giving to understand perhaps, that under his Government, Death was a Mercy: For he knew, that Caligula seldom failed of being as good as his Word in that Case. He was at Play when the Officer carried him away to his Execution, and beckoning to the Centurion, Pray, says he, will you bear me Witness, when I am dead, and gone, that I had the better of the Game. He was a Man exceedingly beloved, and lamented: And for a Farewell, after he had Preached Moderation to his Friends: You, says he, are here disputing about the Immortality of the Soul, and I am now a going to learn the Truth of it; If I discover any thing upon that Point, you shall hear on't. Nay, the most Timorous of Creatures, when they see there's no escaping, they oppose themselves to all Dangers; the Despair gives them Courage, and the Necessity overcomes the Fear. Socrates was Thirty days in Prison after his Sentence, and had time enough to have Starved himself, and so to have prevented the Poison; but he gave the World the Blessing of his Life as long as he could, and took that Fatal Draught, in the Meditation, and Contempt of Death. Marcellinus, in a Deliberation upon Death, called several of his Friends about him: One was Fearful, and Advised what he himself would have done in the Case: Another gave the Counsel which he thought Marcellinus would like best; but a Friend of his that was a Stoic, and a stout Man, reasoned the Matter to him after this manner. Marcellinus, do not trouble yourself, as if it were such a mighty business that you have now in hand; 'tis Nothing to Live; all your Servants do it, nay, your very Beasts too; but, to Die Honestly, and Resolutely, that's a great point. Consider with yourself, there's nothing pleasant in Life, but what you have tasted already, and that which is to Come is but the same over again; And how many Men are there in the World, that rather choose to Die, than to suffer the Nauseous Tediousness of the Repetition: Upon which discourse he fasted himself to Death. It was the Custom of Pacuvius to Solemnize, in a kind of Pageantry, every day, his own Funerals. When he had Swilled, and Gourmandized, to a Luxurious, and Beastly Excess, he was carried away from Supper to Bed, with this Song and Acclamation, He has Lived, he has Lived. That which he did in Lewdness, would become us to do in Sobriety, and Prudence. If it shall please God to add another Day to our Lives, let us thankfully receive it, but however, it is our Happiest, and Securest Course, so to compose ourselves to Night, that we may have no Anxious Dependence upon to Morrow. He that can say, I have Lived this Day, makes the next clear again.  
DEATH is the worst that either the 
c He that Despises Death, Fears nothing.  Severity of Laws, or the Cruelty of Tyrants can impose upon us; and it is the Utmost extent of the Dominion of Fortune. He that is fortified against That, must consequently be Superior to all other Difficulties that are but in the Way to't. Nay, and in some Occasions, it requires more Courage to Live, than to Die. He that is not prepared for Death, shall be perpetually troubled, as well with vain Apprehensions, as with real Dangers. It is not Death itself that is Dreadful, but the Fear of it that goes before it. When the Mind is under a Consternation, there is no State of Life that can please us, for we do not so much endeavour to Avoid Mischiefs, as to Run away from them: and the greatest slaughter is upon a flying Enemy. Had not a Man better breathe out his Last once for all, than lie Agonizing in pains, Consuming by Inches, losing of his Blood by Drops, and yet how many are there that are ready to betray their Country, and their Friends? and to prostitute their very Wives, and Daughters, to preserve a Miserable Carcase? Madmen, and Children have no apprehension of Death, and it were a shame that our Reason should not do as much toward our security, as their Folly. But, the great matter is to Die Considerately, and Cheerfully, upon the Foundation of Virtue; For Life, in itself, is Irksome; and only Eating, and Drinking, and Feeling in a Circle.  
HOW many are there that betwixt the 
d All Men must Die.  Apprehensions of Death, and the Miseries of Life, are at their Wits End what to do with themselves? wherefore, let us fortify ourselves against those Calamities, from which the Prince is no more exempt than the Beggar. Pompey the Great had his head taken off by a Boy, and an Eunuch (young Ptolemy, and Photinus.) Caligula commanded the Tribune Daecimus to kill Lepidus; and another Tribune (Chaereas) did as much for Caligula. Never was any Man so Great, but he was as Liable to suffer Mischief, as he was Able to do it. Has not a Thief, or an Enemy your Th●…ote at his Mercy? Nay, and the meanest of Servants has the Power of Life, and Death over his Master, for whosoever contemns his own Life, may be the Master of Another bodies. You will find in Story, that the Displeasure of Servants has been as Fatal, as that of Tyrants: And what matters it, the Power of him we Fear, when the thing we Fear is in every Body's Power? Suppose I fall into the hands of an Enemy, and the Conqueror Condemns me to be led in Triumph: It is but carrying me thither whither I should have gone without him; that is to say, toward Death, whither I have been marching ever since I was born. It is the Fear of our Last hour that disquiets all the Rest. By the Justice of all Constitutions, Mankind is condemned to a Capital Punishment: Now how despicable would that Man appear, who being Sentenced to Death in Common with the whole World, should only Petition, that he might be the last Man brought to the Block? Some Men are particularly afraid of Thunder, and yet extremely careless of Other, and of greater Dangers: as if That were all they have to Fear. Will not a Sword, a Stone, a Fever, do the work as well? Suppose the Bolt should hit us, it were yet braver to Die with a Stroke, than with the Bare Apprehension of it: Beside the Vanity of Imagining, that Heaven and Earth should be put into such a Disorder only for the Death of one Man. A Good, and a Brave Man is not moved with Lightning, Tempests, or Earthquakes: but perhaps he would voluntarily plunge himself into that Gulf, where otherwise he should only fall: the cutting of a Corn, or the swallowing of a Fly, is enough to dispatch a Man; and 'tis no matter how great That is, that brings me to my Death, so long as Death itself is but Little. Life is a small matter; but 'tis a matter of Importance to Contemn it. Nature that Begot us, expels us, and a better, and a safer Place is provided for us. And what is Death, but a Ceasing to be what we were before; we are kindled, and put out; to Cease to Be, and not to Begin to Be, is the same thing? We Dye daily; and while we are growing, our Life decreases: every moment that passes, takes away part of it: All that's past is Lost: Nay, we divide with Death the very Instant that we Live. As the last Sand in the Glass does not Measure the Hour, but finishes it; so the Last moment that we Live does not make up Death, but concludes. There are some that Pray more earnestly for Death, than we do for Life; but it is better to receive it cheerfully when it Comes, than to hasten it before the time.  
BUT, What is it that we would live any longer for? 
c To what end should we Covet Life?  Not for our Pleasures; for those we have tasted over and over, even to Satiety: so that there's no point of Luxury that's New to us; But a Man would be loath to leave his Country, and his Friends behind him. That is to say, he would have them go First; for that's the least part of his Care. Well! But I would fain live to do more Good, and discharge myself in the Offices of Life: As if to Dye were not the Duty of every Man that Lives. We are loath to Leave our possessions; and no Man Swims well with his Luggage. We are all of us equally Fearful of Death, and Ignorant of Life: But, What can be more shameful, than to be Solicitous upon the Brink of Security? If Death be at Any time to be Feared, it is Always to be Feared; but, the way never to Fear it, is to be often thinking of it. To what end is it to put off, for a little while, that which we cannot avoid? He that Dies, does but follow him that is Dead. Why are we then so long afraid of that which is so little a while a doing? How miserable are those People that spend their Lives in the Dismal Apprehensions of Death? For, they are beset on all hands, and every Minute in Dread of a surprise. We must therefore look about us, as if we were in an Enemy's Country; and Consider our Last hour, not as the Punishment, but as the Law of Nature; The Fear of it is a Continual Palpitation of the Heart, and he that overcomes That Terror, shall never be troubled with any Other. Life is a Navigation; we are perpetually wallowing, and dashing one against another; Sometimes we suffer Shipwreck, but we are Always in Danger, and in Expectation of it. And, what is it when it comes, but either the End of a Journey, or a Passage? It is as great a Folly to Fear Death, as to Fear Old Age. Nay, as to Fear Life itself; for he that would not Die, ought not to Live, since Death is the Condition of Life: Beside, that it is a Madness to Fear a thing that is Certain; for where there is no Doubt, there is no place for Fear.  
WE are still chiding of Fate, and even those that exact the most Rigorous Justice betwixt Man, 
f To Dye is to Obey Nature.  and Man, are yet themselves Unjust to Providence. Why was such a One taken away in the Prime of his Years? As if it were the Number of years that makes Death easy to us, and not the Temper of the Mind. He that would Live a little Longer to Day, would be as loath to Die a Hundred year Hence. But, which is more Reasonable, for Us to obey Nature, or for Nature to obey us? Go we must at Last, and no Matter how soon: 'Tis the Work of Fate to make us Live Long, but 'tis the Business of Virtue to make a short Life sufficient. Life is to be measured by Action, not by Time; a Man may Die Old at Thirty, and Young at Fourscore. Nay, the One Lives after Death, and the Other Perished before he Died. I look upon Age among the Effects of Chance. How Long I shall Live is in the Power of Others, but it is in my Own how Well. The largest space of Time, is to live till a Man is Wise. He that Dies of Old Age, does no more than go to Bed when he is weary. Death is the Test of Life, and it is that only which discovers what we are, and distinguishes betwixt Ostentation, and Virtue. A Man may Dispute, Cite Great Authorities, Talk Learnedly, Huff it out, and yet be Rotten at Heart. But let us Soberly attend our Business, and since it is Uncertain When, or Where we shall Die, let us look for Death in all Places, and at all Times: We can never Study that Point too much, which we can never come to Experiment, whether we know it or no. It is a Blessed thing to dispatch the Business of Life before we Dye; and then to Expect Death in the Possession of a Happy Life. He's the Great Man, that is willing to Die, when his Life is pleasant to him. An Honest Life is not a Greater Good than an Honest Death. How many Brave young Men, by an Instinct of Nature, are carried on to Great Actions, and even to the Contempt of all Hazards?  
'TIS Childish to go out of the 
g 'Tis Childish to Die Lamenting.  World Groaning, and Wailing, as we came into't. Our Bodies must be thrown away, as the Secondine that wraps up the Infant, the other being only the Covering of the Soul: We shall then discover the Secrets of Nature; the Darkness shall be Discussed, and our Souls Irradiated with Light, and Glory: A Glory without a Shadow; a Glory that shall surround us, and from whence we shall look down, and see Day, and Night beneath us. If we cannot lift up our Eyes toward the Lamp of Heaven without dazzling, What shall we do when we come to behold the Divine Light in its Illustrious Original? That Death which we so much dread, and decline, is not a Determination, but the Intermission of a Life, which will return again. All those things that are the very Cause of Life, are the way to Death: We Fear it, as we do Fame, but it is a great Folly to Fear Words. Some People are so impatient of Life, that they are still wishing for Death, but he that wishes to die, does not desire it; Let us rather wait God's Pleasure, and Pray for Health, and Life. If we have a Mind to Live, Why do we wish to die? If we have a Mind to die, we may do it without talking of it. Men are a great deal more Resolute in the Article of Death itself, than they are about the Circumstances of it, For it gives a Man Courage, to Consider, that his Fate is Inevitable; the slow Approaches of death are the most Troublesome to us; as we see many a Gladiator, who, upon his wounds, will direct his Adversaries weapon to his very Heart; though but Timorous perhaps in the Combat. There are some that have not the Heart either to Live, or Die, and that's a Sad Case. But this we are sure of, The Fear of Death is a Continual Slavery, as the Contempt of it is Certain Liberty.   

CHAP. XXII. Consolations against Death, from the Providence, and the Necessity of it.  
THIS Life is only a Prelude to Eternity, where we are to expect Another Original, and Another State of Things: We have no Prospect of Heaven Here, but at a Distance; Let us therefore expect our Last, and Decretory Hour, with Courage. The Last (I say) to our Bodies, but not to our Minds: Our Luggage we must leave behind us, and return as Naked Out of the World, as we came Into't. The day which we fear as our Last, is but the Birthday of our Eternity; and it is the only way to't: So that what we Fear as a Rock, proves to be but a Port; In many Cases to be Desired, Never to be Refused; and he that Dies Young, has only made a Quick Voyage on't. Some are Becalmed; Others cut it away before the Wind; and we Live just as we Sail: First we run our Childhood out of sight; our Youth next; and then our Middle Age: After That, follows Old Age, and brings us to the Common End of Mankind. It is a great Providence that we have more ways Out of the World, than we have Into't. Our Security stands upon a Point, the very Article of Death. It draws a great many Blessings into a very Narrow Compass; And although the Fruit of it does not seem to extend to the Defunct, yet the Difficulty of it is more than balanced by the Contemplation of the Future. Nay; suppose that all the Business of This World should be Forgotten; or my Memory traduced, What's all this to me? I have done my Duty. Undoubtedly That which puts an End to all Other Evils, cannot be a very great Evil itself; and yet it is no Easy thing for Flesh and Blood to despise Life. What if Death comes? If it does not stay with us, why should we Fear it? One Hangs himself for a Mistress; Another Leaps the Garret Window to avoid a Choleric Master; a Third runs away, and Stabs himself, rather than he will be brought back again. We see the Force, even of our Infirmities, and shall we not then do greater things for the Love of Virtue? To suffer Death, is but the Law of Nature; and it is a great Comfort that it can be done but Once: In the very Convulsions of it, we have This Consolation, that our Pain is near an end, and that it frees us from all the Miseries of Life. What it is, we Know not; and it were Rash to Condemn, what we do not Understand: But this we Presume, either that we shall pass out of This into a Better Life, where we shall Live with Tranquillity and Splendour in Diviner Mansions, or else return to our First Principles, free from the Sense of any Inconvenience. There's Nothing Immortal, nor Many things Lasting; but by Divers ways every thing comes to an End. What an Arrogance is it then, when the World itself stands Condemned to a Dissolution, that Man alone should expect to live for Ever? It is Unjust not to allow unto the Giver, the Power of disposing of his Own Bounty; and a Folly, only to value the Present. Death is as much a Debt, as Money; and Life is but a Journey towards it. Some dispatch it Sooner, others Later; but we must All have the same Period. The Thunder-Bolt is undoubtedly Just, that draws, even from those that are stuck with it, a Veneration. A Great Soul takes no Delight in Staying with the Body, it considers whence it Came, and Knows whither it is to Go. The day will come, that shall separate this Mixture of Soul, and Body; of Divine, and Humane: My Body I will leave where I found it; My Soul I will restore to Heaven, which would have been There already, but for the Clog that keeps it down: And beside; How many Men have been the worse for longer Living, that might have died with Reputation, if they had been sooner taken away? How many Disappointments of Hopeful Youths, that have proved Dissolute Men? Over and above the Ruins, Shipwrecks, Torments, Prisons, that attend Long Life: A Blessing so deceitful, that if a Child were in Condition to Judge of it, and at Liberty to Refuse it, he would not take it.  
WHAT Providence has made Necessary, Humane Prudence should comply with Cheerfully: 
a What God has made Necessary, Man should comply with Cheerfully.  As there is a Necessity of Death, so that Necessity is Equal, and Invincible. No Man has cause of Complaint for that which Every Man must suffer as well as himself. When we should die, we Will not, and when we would not, we must: But, our Fate is Fixed, and Unavoidable is the Decree. Why do we then stand Trembling when the Time comes? Why do we not as well lament that we did not Live a Thousand years ago, as that we shall not be alive a Thou sand years hence? 'Tis but travelling the Great Road, and to the Place whither we must All go at Last: 'Tis but submitting to the Law of Nature, and to That Lot which the whole World has suffered, that is gone Before us; and so must They too, that are to Come After us. Nay, how many Thousands, when our Time comes, will Expire in the same Moment with us? He that will not Follow, shall be drawn by Force: And, Is it not much better now to do That willingly, which we shall otherwise be made to do in spite of our Hearts. The Sons of Mortal Parents, must expect a Mortal Posterity; Death is the End of Great and Small. We are Born Helpless, and exposed to the Injuries of all Creatures, and of all Wethers. The very Necessaries of Life are Deadly to us. We meet with our Fate in our Dishes, in our Cups, and in the very Air we Breathe; Nay, our very Birth is Inauspicious, for we come into the World Weeping; and in the Middle of our Designs, while we are meditating great Matters, and stretching of our Thoughts to After Ages, Death cuts us off, and our longest Date is only the Revolution of a few years. One Man Dies at the Table; Another goes away in his Sleep; a Third in his Mistress' Arms; a Fourth is Stabbed; Another is Stung with an Adder, or Crushed with the Fall of a Horse. We have several ways to our End, but the End itself, which is Death, is still the same. Whether we die by a Sword, by a Halter, by a Potion, or by a Disease, 'tis all but Death. A Child dies in the Swaddling Clouts, and an Old Man at a Hundred, they are Both Mortal alike, though the One goes sooner than the Other. All that lies betwixt the Cradle, and the Grave, is Uncertain. If we compute the Troubles, the Life even of a Child is Long; if the Swiftness of the Passage, That of an Old Man is short: The whole is slippery, and Deceitful, and only Death Certain; and yet all People Complain of That which never Deceived any Man. Senecio raised himself from a small Beginning, to a Vast Fortune, being very well skilled in the Faculties both of Getting, and of Keeping; and either of them was sufficient for the doing of his Business. He was a Man Infinitely Careful, both of his Patrimony, and of his Body. He gave me a Morning's Visit (says our Author) and after that Visit, he went away, and spent the rest of the day with a Friend of his that was desperately Sick. At Night he was Merry at Supper, and seized immediately after with a Squincy, which dispatched him in a few hours. This Man that had Money at Use in all Places, and in the very Course, and Height of his Prosperity, was thus Cut off. How Foolish a thing is it then for a Man to flatter himself with Long Hopes, and to Pretend to Dispose of the Future? Nay, the very Present slips through our Fingers, and there is not that moment which we can call our Own. How vain a thing is it for us to enter upon Projects? and to say to ourselves, Well! I'll go Build, Purchase, Discharge such Offices, Settle my Affairs, and then Retire. We are all of us Born to the same Casualties; All equally Frail, and Uncertain of To morrow. At the very Altar, where we Pray for Life, we Learn to Die; by seeing the Sacrifices Killed before us. But, there's no Need of a Wound, or Searching the Heart for't, when the Noose of a Cord, or Smothering of a Pillow will do the Work. All things have their Seasons; they Begin, they Increase, and they Dye. The Heavens and the Earth grow Old, and are appointed their Periods. That which we call Death, is but a Pause, or Suspension; and, in truth, a Progress to Life; only our Thoughts look downward upon the Body, and not Forward upon things to Come. All things under the Sun are Mortal; Cities, Empires: and the time will come, when it shall be a Question Where they Were, and perchance whether ever they had a Being or no. Some will be destroyed by War; Others by Luxury, Fire, Inundations, Earthquakes. Why should it trouble me then to Die, as a Forerunner of an Universal Dissolution? A Great Mind Submits itself to God, and suffers willingly what the Law of the Universe will otherwise bring to pass upon Necessity. That good Old Man Bassus (though with one Foot in the Grave) How Cheerful a Mind does he bear! He lives in the View of Death, and Contemplates his Own End with less Concern of Thought, or Countenance, than he would do Another Mans. It is a hard Lesson, and we are a long time a Learning of it, to receive our Death without Trouble, especially in the Case of Bassus. In Other Deaths there's a Mixture of Hope; A Disease may be Cured, a Fire Quenched, a falling House either Propped, or Avoided; the Sea may Swallow a Man, and throw him Up again. A Pardon may Interpose betwixt the Axe and the Body; but in the Case of Old Age there's no Place for either Hope, or Intercession. Let us Live in our Bodies therefore, as if we were only to Lodge in them This Night, and to leave them To morrow. It is the frequent Thought of Death that must fortify us against the Necessity of it. He that has Armed himself against Poverty, may Perhaps come to Live in Plenty. A Man may strengthen himself against Pain, and yet live in a State of Health; Against the Loss of Friends, and never Lose any: But he that fortifies himself against the Fear of Death, shall most certainly have Occasion to employ that Virtue. It is the Care of a Wise, and a Good Man to look to his Manners, and Actions; and rather how well he Lives, than how Long: For to Die Sooner, or Later, is not the Business, but to Die Well, or Ill: For Death brings us to Immortality.   

CHAP. XXIII. Against Immoderate Sorrow for the Death of Friends.  
NEXT to the Encounter of Death in our Own Bodies, the most sensible Calamity to an Honest Man is the Death of a Friend; and we are not in truth without some Generous Instances of those that have preferred a Friend's Life before their Own; and yet this Affliction, which by Nature is so Grievous to us, is, by Virtue, and Providence, made Familiar, and Easie.  
TO Lament the Death of a Friend, is both 
a Sorrow within Bounds is allowable.  Natural, and Just: A Sigh, or a Tear I would allow to his Memory; but no Profuse, or Obstinate Sorrow: Clamorous, and Public Lamentations are not so much the Effects of Grief, as of Vainglory. He that is sadder in Company than Alone, shows rather the Ambition of his Sorrow, than the Piety of it. Nay, and in the Violence of his Passion, there fall out Twenty things that set him a Laughing. At the long Run, Time Cures All, but it were better done by Moderation, and Wisdom. Some People do as good as set a watch upon themselves, as if they were afraid that their Grief would make an Escape. The Ostentation of Grief is many times more than the Grief itself. When any Body is within Hearing, what Groans, and Outcries! when they are Alone, and Private, all is Hush, and Quiet: So soon as any body comes in, they are at it again; and down they throw themselves upon the Bed; fall to wring of their hands, and wishing of themselves dead; which they might better have done by themselves; but their sorrow goes off with the Company. We forsake Nature, and run over to the Practices of the People, that never were the Authors of any thing that is Good. If Destiny were to be wrought upon by Tears, I would allow you to spend your days, and nights, in Sadness, and Mourning; Tearing of your Hair, and Beating of your Breasts; but if Fate be Inexorable, and Death will Keep what he has Taken, Grief is to no Purpose. And yet I would not Advise Insensibility, and Hardness; It were Inhumanity, and not Virtue, not to be moved at the separation of Familiar Friends, and Relations: Now, in such Cases, we cannot Command ourselves; we cannot forbear weeping, and we Ought not to Forbear: But, let us not pass the Bounds of Affection, and run into Imitation; within These Limits it is some ease to the Mind.  
A Wise Man gives Way to Tears in 
b Sorrow is in some Cases Allowable, and Inevitable in others.  Some Cases, and Cannot Avoid them in Others. When one is struck with the Surprise of Ill News, as the Death of a Friend, or the like; or upon the Last Embrace of an Acquaintance under the Hand of an Executioner, he lies under a Natural Necessity of Weeping. and Trembling. In Another Case we may Indulge our Sorrows, as upon the Memory of a Dead Friends Conversation, or Kindness, one may let fall Tears of Generosity, and Joy. We Favour the One, and we are Overcome with the Other; and This is Well: but we are not upon any Terms to Force them; They may flow of their Own accord, without derogating from the Dignity of a Wise Man; who at the same time both preserves his Gravity, and Obeys Nature. Nay, there is a Certain Decorum even in Weeping: for Excess of Sorrow is as Foolish as Profuse Laughter. Why do we not as well Cry, when our Trees that we took Pleasure in, shed their Leaves, as at the Loss of Other Satisfactions? When the next Season repairs them, either with the same again, or Others in their Places. We may accuse Fate, but we cannot alter it, for it is Hard, and Inexorable, and not to be Removed, either with Reproaches, or Tears. They may carry us to the Dead, but never bring Them back again to Us. If Reason does not put an End to our Sorrows, Fortune never will: One is pinched with Poverty; Another Solicited with Ambition, and Fears the very Wealth that he Coveted: One is troubled for the Loss of Children; Another for the Want of them; So that we shall sooner want Tears, than Matter for them; let us therefore spare That for which we have so much Occasion. I do confess, that in the very Parting of Friends there is something of an Uneasiness, and Trouble; but it is rather Voluntary, than Natural; and it is Custom, more than Sense, that affects us: We do rather Impose a Sorrow upon ourselves, than Submit to it: as People Cry when they have Company, and when no body looks on, all's well again. To Mourn without Measure, is Folly, and not to Mourn at all, is Insensibility. The best Temper is betwixt Piety, and Reason; to be sensible, but neither Transported, nor Cast down. He that can put a stop to his Tears, and Pleasures, when he will, is safe. It is an Equal Infelicity to be either too Soft, or too Hard. We are Overcome by the One, and we are put to struggle with the Other. There is a Certain Intemperance in That Sorrow that passes the Rules of Modesty; and yet great Piety is in many Cases a Dispensation to good Manners. The Loss of a Son, or of a Friend, cuts a Man to the Heart, and there's no opposing the first Violence of this Passion; but when a Man comes once to deliver himself wholly up to Lamentations, he is to understand, that though some Tears Deserve Compassion, Others are yet Ridiculous. A Grief that's Fresh, finds Pity, and Comfort; but when 'tis Inveterate 'tis Laughed at, for 'tis either Counterfeit, or Foolish. Beside that, to Weep excessively for the Dead, is an Affront to the Living. The most Justifyable Cause of Mourning is to see Good Men come to Ill Ends, and Virtue Oppressed by the Iniquity of Fortune. But in This Case too they either suffer Resolutely, and yield us Delight in their Courage, and Example; Or Meanly, and so give us the less trouble for the Loss. He that dies Cheerfully, Dries up my Tears, and he that dies Whiningly, does not Deserve them. I would bear the Death of Friends, and Children, with the same Constancy that I would expect my Own; and no more Lament the One, than Fear the Other. He that bethinks himself, how often Friends have been Parted, will find more time lost among the Living, than upon the Dead; and the most Desperate Mourners are they, that cared least for their Friends when they were Living; for they think to Redeem their Credits for want of Kindness to the Living, by Extravagant Rave after the Dead. Some, (I know) will have Grief to be only the Perverse Delight of a Restless Mind; and Sorrows, and Pleasures to be near Akin: and there are, I'm Confident, that find Joy even in their Tears. But which is more Barbarous, to be Insensible of Grief for the Death of a Friend, or to Fish for Pleasure in Grief, when a Son perhaps is burning, or a Friend expiring? To forget one's Friend, to bury the Memory with the Body; to Lament out of Measure is all Inhuman. He that is Gone, either would not have his Friend Tormented, or does not know that he is so: If he does not Feel it, 'tis Superfluous; If he does, 'tis Unacceptable to him. If Reason cannot prevail, Reputation may, for Immoderate Mourning lessons a Man's Character: 'Tis a shameful thing for a Wise Man to make the Wearyness of Grieving the Remedy of it. In Time, the most Stubborn Grief will leave us, if in Prudence we do not leave That First.  
BUT, Do I Grieve for my Friend's sake, or for my 
c We Grieve more for Our Own Sakes, than for Our Friends.  Own? Why should I afflict myself for the Loss of him that is either Happy, or not at all in Being? In the One Case, 'tis Envy, and in the Other 'tis Madness. We are apt to say, What would I give to see him again, and to enjoy his Conversation! I was never sad in his Company; My Heart leaped when ever I met him; I want him where ever I go: All that's to be said is, The Greater the Loss, the Greater is the Virtue to Overcome it. If Grieving will do no Good, 'tis an Idle thing to Grieve; And if That which has befallen One Man remains to All, it is as Unjust to Complain. The whole World is upon the March toward the same Point; Why do we not Cry for ourselves that are to follow, as well as for him that's gone First. Why do we not as well lament before hand, for That which we know will be, and cannot possibly but be? He is not Gone, but Sent before. As there are many things that he has Lost, so there are many things that he does not Fear: as Anger, Jealousy, Envy, etc. Is he not more Happy in Desiring Nothing, than Miserable in what he has lost? We do not mourn for the Absent, why then for the Dead; who are effectually no Other? We have Lost one Blessing, But we have many Left; And shall not all these Satisfactions Support us against One Sorrow?  
THE Comfort of Having a Friend, 
d A Friend may be taken away, but not the Comfort of the Friendship.  may be taken away, but not That of having had one. As there is a sharpness in some Fruits, and a Bitterness in some Wines that pleases us, so there is a mixture in the Remembrance of Friends, where the Loss of their Company is sweetened again by the Contemplation of their Virtues. In some Respects I have Lost what I had; and in Others, I retain still what I have Lost. 'Tis an Ill Construction of Providence to reflect only upon my Friends being taken away, without any Regard to the Benefit of his being once given me. Let us therefore make the Best of our Friends, while we have them; for how long we shall keep them, is Uncertain. I have lost a Hopeful Son, but, How many Fathers have been deceived in their Expectations? And how many Noble Families have been destroyed by Luxury, and Riot? He that Grieves for the loss of a Son, What if he had lost a Friend? And yet he that has lost a Friend, has more Cause of Joy that he once had him, than of Grief that he is taken away. Shall a Man bury his Friendship with his Friend? We are Ungrateful for that which is Past, in hope of what's to Come; as if that which is to come would not quickly be Past too. That which is past we are sure of. We may receive Satisfaction, 'tis true, both from the Future, and what's already Past; the One, by Expectation; and the Other, by Memory: only the one may possibly not come to pass, and it is Impossible to make the Other not to have Been.  
BUT there's no applying of Consolation to Fresh, and Bleeding Sorrows; the very Discourse 
e There's no Dealing with the First Transports of Sorrow.  Irritates the Grief, and Inflames it. 'Tis like an Unseasonable Medicine in a Disease, when the First Violence is Over, it will be more Tractable, and endure the Handling. Those People, whose Minds are weakened by long Felicity, may be allowed to Groan, and Complain, but it is otherwise with those that have led their days in Misfortunes. A Long Course of Adversity has this Good in't, that though it vexes a Body a great while, it comes to harden us at last; As a Raw Solider shrinks at every Wound, and dreads the Surgeon more than an Enemy; whereas a Veteran sees his own Body cut, and lamed with as little Concern as if it were Another's. With the same Resolution should we stand the Shock, and Cure of all Misfortunes; we are never the better for our Experience, if we have not yet learned to be Miserable. And there's no thought of Curing us by the Diversion of Sports, and Entertainments; we are apt to fall into Relapses; wherefore we had better Overcome our Sorrow, than Delude it.   

CHAP. XXIV. Consolations against Banishment, and Bodily Pains.  
IT is a Masterpiece to draw Good out of Evil; and by the Help of Virtue to emprove Misfortunes into Blessings. 'Tis a sad Condition, you'll say, for a Man to be barred the Freedom of his own Country And is not This the Case of Thousands that we meet every day in the Streets; Some, for Ambition; Others, to Negotiate, or for Curiosity, Delight, Friendship, Study, Experience, Luxury, Vanity, Discontent: Some, to exercise their Virtues, Others, their Vices; and not a few to Prostitute either their Bodies, or their Eloquence. To pass now from pleasant Countries into the worst of Islands; Let them be never so barren, or Rocky, the People never so Barbarous, or the Clime never so Intemperate; he that is Banished thither, shall find many Strangers to live there for their Pleasures. The Mind of Man is Naturally Curious, and Restless; which is no wonder, considering their Divine Original; for Heavenly things are always in Motion: Witness the Stars, and the Orbs, which are perpetually Moving, Rolling, and Changing of Place, according to the Law, and Appointment of Nature. But here are no Woods, you'll say, no Rivers; no Gold, nor Pearl; no Commodity for Traffic, or Commerce; nay, hardly Provision enough to keep the Inhabitants from starving. 'Tis very Right; here are no Palaces, no Artificial Grottoes, or Materials for Luxury, and Excess; but we lie under the Protection of Heaven, and a Poor Cottage for a Retreat is more worth, than the most Magnificent Temple, when That Cottage is Consecrated by an Honest Man under the Guard of his Virtues. Shall any Man think Banishment Grievous, when he may take such Company along with him? Nor is there any Banishment, but yields enough for our Necessities, and no Kingdom is sufficient for Superfluities. It is the Mind that makes us Rich in a Desert; and if the Body be but kept Alive, the Soul Enjoys all Spiritual Felicities in Abundance. What signifies the being Banished from one Spot of Ground to Another, to a Man that has his Thoughts Above, and can look Forward, and Backward, and wherever he pleases; and wherever he is, he has the same Matter to work upon? The Body is but the Prison, or the Clog of the Mind; subjected to Punishments, Robberies, Diseases; but the Mind is Sacred, and Spiritual, and Liable to no Violence. Is it that a Man shall want Garments, or Covering in Banishment? The Body is as easily Clothed, as Fed; and Nature has made nothing Hard, that is Necessary. But if nothing will serve us, but Rich Embroideries, and Scarlet, 'tis none of Fortune's Fault that we are Poor, but our Own. Nay, suppose a Man should have All restored him back again that he has Lost; it will come to nothing, for he will want more after That, to satisfy his Desires, than he did before, to supply his Necessities. Insatiable Desires are not so much a Thirst, as a Disease.  
TO come Lower now; Where's 
a Banishment is but Change of Place, in which sense, All People, and Nations have been Banished.  That People, or Nation, that have not changed their Place of Abode? Some by the Fate of War; Others have been cast by Tempests, Shipwrecks, or want of Provisions, upon unknown Coasts. Some have been forced Abroad by Pestilence, Sedition, Earthquakes, Surcharge of People at Home. Some Travel to see the World; Others for Commerce: But, in fine, it is clear that, upon some Reason or other, the whole Race of Mankind have shifted their Quarters; Changed their very Names, as well as their Habitations: Insomuch, that we have lost the very Memorials of what they were. All these Transportations of People, what are they, but Public Banishments? The very Founder of the Roman Empire was an Exile: Briefly; The whole World has been Transplanted, and one Mutation treads upon the Heel of another. That which one Man Desires, turns another Man's Stomach; and he that Proscribes me To Day, shall himself be cast out To morrow. We have however this Comfort in our Misfortune; we have the same Nature, the same Providence, and we carry our Virtues along with us. And This Blessing we owe to that Almighty Power, call it what you will; either a God, or an Incorporeal Reason, a Divine Spirit, or Fate, and the Unchangeable Course of Causes, and Effects: It is however so ordered, that nothing can be taken from us, but what we can well spare; and that which is most Magnificent, and Valuable, continues with us. Wherever we go, we have the Heavens over our Heads, and no further from us, than they were before; and, so long as we can entertain our Eyes, and Thoughts, with those Glories, what matter is it what Ground we tread upon?  
IN the Case of Pain, or Sickness, 'tis 
b Pain only affects the Body, but not the Mind.  only the Body that is affected: It may take off the Speed of a Footman, or Bind the Hands of a Cobbler, but the Mind is still at Liberty to Hear, Learn, Teach, Advise, and to do other Good Offices. 'Tis an Example of Public Benefit, a Man that is in Pain, and Patient. Virtue may show itself as well in the Bed, as in the Field, and he that cheerfully encounters the Terrors of Death, and Corporal Anguish, is as great a Man as he that most Generously hazards himself in a Battle. A Disease, 'tis true, bars us of some Pleasures, but Procures us others. Drink is never so Grateful to us, as in a Burning Fever, nor Meat, as when we have fasted ourselves Sharp, and Hungry. The Patient may be forbidden some Sensual Satisfaction, but no Physician will forbid us the Delight of the Mind. Shall we call any Sick Man Miserable, because he must give Over his Intemperance of Wine, and Gluttony, and betake himself to a Diet of more Sobriety, and less Expense; and abandon his Luxury, which is the Distemper of the Mind, as well as of the Body. 'Tis Troublesome, I know, at First, to abstain from the Pleasures we have been used to, and to endure Hunger, and Thirst; but in a Little time we lose the very Appetite, and 'tis no Trouble then, to be without That which we do no not Desire. In Diseases, there are great Pains; but if they be Long, they Remit, and give us some Intervals of Ease; if short, and violent, either they dispatch Us, or Consume Themselves; so that either their Respites make them Tolerable, or the Extremity makes them short. So Merciful is Almighty God to us, that our Torments cannot be very Sharp, and Lasting. The Acutest Pains are those that Affect the Nerves, but there's this comfort in them too, that they will quickly make us Stupid, and Insensible. In Cases of Extremity, let us call to mind the most Eminent Instances of Patience, and Courage, and turn our Thoughts from our Afflictions to the Contemplation of Virtue. Suppose it be the Stone, the Gout, nay the Rack itself; how many have endured it without so much as a Groan, or a Word speaking, without so much as Ask for Relief, or giving an Answer to a Question. Nay, they have laughed at the Torments upon the very Torture, and provoked them to New Experiments of their Cruelty, which they have had still in Derision. The Asthma I look upon, as of all Diseases, the most Importune; the Physicians call it the Meditation of Death, as being rather an Agony, than a Sickness: The Fit holds one not above an Hour, as no Body is long in Expiring. There are Three things Grievous in Sickness, the Fear of Death, Bodily Pain, and the Intermission of our Pleasures: The First is to be imputed to Nature, not to the Disease, for we do not Die because we are Sick, but because we Live. Nay, Sickness itself has preserved many a Man from Dying.   

CHAP. XXV. Poverty, to a Wise Man, is rather a Blessing, than a Misfortune.  
NO Man shall ever be Poor, that goes to himself for what he wants; and that's the readyest way to Riches: Nature indeed will have her Due, but yet whatsoever is beyond Necessity, is Precarious, and not Necessary. It is not Her Business to gratify the Palate, but to satisfy a Craving Stomach: Bread, when a Man is Hungry, does his Work, let it be never so Course; and Water when he is a Dry; Let his Thirst be Quenched, and Nature is satisfied; no matter Whence it Comes, or whether he Drinks in Gold, Silver, or in the Hollow of his Hand. To Promise a Man Riches, and to Teach him Poverty, is to Deceive him: But shall I call him Poor, that wants nothing; though he may be beholden for it to his Patience, rather than to his Fortune? Or shall any Man Deny him to be Rich, whose Riches can never be taken away? Whether is it better to have Much, or Enough? He that has Much, desires More, which shows, that he has not yet Enough; but he that has Enough, is at Rest. Shall a Man be reputed the less Rich, for not having That, for Which he shall be Banished; for which his very Wife, or Son, shall Poison him? That which gives him Security in War, and Quiet in Peace; which he Possesses without Danger, and Disposes of without Trouble? No Man can be Poor, that has Enough, nor Rich, that Covets more than he has. Alexander, after all his Conquests, complained that he wanted More World's; he Desired Something More, even when he had Gotten All: And That which was Sufficient for Humane Nature, was not Enough for One Man. Money never made any Man Rich; for the More he Had, the More he still Coveted. The Richest Man that ever Lived, is Poor, in My Opinion, and in Any Man's May be so: but he that keeps himself to the stint of Nature, does neither Feel Poverty, nor Fear it. Nay, even in Poverty itself, there are some things Superfluous. Those which the World calls Happy, their Felicity is a False Splendour, that dazzles the Eyes of the Vulgar, but Our Rich Man is Glorious, and Happy within. There's no Ambition in Hunger, or Thirst: Let there be Food; and no Matter for the Table, the Dish, and the Servants; nor with what Meats Nature is satisfied. Those are the Torments of Luxury, that rather Stuff the Stomach, than Fill it: It studies rather to 'Cause an Appetite, than to Allay it. 'Tis not for Us to say, This is not Handsome; That's Common; Tother Offends my Eye. Nature Provides for Health, not Delicacy. When the Trumpet Sounds a Charge, the Poor Man knows that he's not aimed at; When they Cry out Fire, His Body is all he has to look after; If he be to take a Journey, there's no Blocking up of Streets, and Thronging of Passages for a Parting Compliment: A small matter Fills his Belly, and Contents his Mind; he Lives from Hand to Mouth, without Carking, or Fearing for To morrow. The Temperate Rich Man is but his Counterfeit; his Wit is Quicker, and his Appetite's Calmer.  
NO Man finds Poverty a Trouble to 
a Poverty is only Troublesome in Opinion.  him, but he that Thinks it so; and he that Thinks it so, Makes it so. Does not a Rich Man Travel more at Ease with Less Luggage, and Fewer Servants? Does he not Eat, many times, as Little, and as Course, in the Field, as a Poor Man? Does he not, for his Own Pleasure, sometimes, and for Variety, Feed upon the Ground, and use only Earthen Vessels? Is he not a Madman then, that Always Fears what he Often Desires, and Dreads the Thing that he takes Delight to Imitate? He that would know the worst of Poverty, let him but compare the Looks of the Rich, and of the Poor, and he shall find the Poor Man to have a Smother Brow, and to be more Merry at Heart; or if any Trouble befalls him, it passes over like a Cloud: Whereas the Other, either his Good Humour is Counterfeit, or his Melancholy Deep, and Ulcerated, and the Worse, because he dares not Publicly own his Misfortune; but he is Forced to Play the Part of a Happy Man, even with a Canker in his Heart. His Felicity is but Personated, and if he were but stripped of his Ornaments, he would be Contemptible. In buying of a Horse, we take off his clothes, and his Trappings, and examine his Shape, and Body, for fear of being Cozened: And shall we put an Estimate upon a Man for being set off by his Fortune, and Quality? Nay, if we see any thing of Ornament about him, we are to suspect him the more for some Infirmity under it. He that is not Content in Poverty, would not be so neither in Plenty; for the Fault is not in the Thing, but the Mind. If That be Sickly, remove him from a Kennel to a Palace, he is at the same Pass; for he carries his Disease along with him. What can be Happier than That Condition both of Mind, and of Fortune, from which we cannot Fall? What can be a greater Felicity, than in a Covetous Designing Age, for a Man to live safe among Informers, and Thiefs? It puts a Poor Man into the very Condition of Providence, that Gives All, without Reserving Any thing to itself. How Happy is he that Owes nothing, but to himself, and only That, which he can Easily Refuse, or Easily Pay. I do not reckon Him Poor, that has but a Little, but he is so, that Covets more; It is a Fair Degree of Plenty, to have what's Necessary. Whether had a Man better find Saturity in Want, or Hunger in Plenty? It is not the Augmenting of our Fortunes, but the Abating of our Appetites, that makes us Rich. Why may not a Man as well Contemn Riches in his Own Coffers, as in Another Man's? And rather Hear that they are His, than Feel them to be so? Though it is a great matter not to be Corrupted, even by having them under the same Roof. He is the Greater Man that's Honestly Poor in the middle of Plenty, but he is the more secure, that is Free from the Temptation of that Plenty; and has the least Matter for another to Design Upon. It is no great business for a Poor Man to Preach the Contempt of Riches, or for a Rich Man to extol the Benefits of Poverty, because we do not know how either the One, or the Other would behave himself in the Contrary Condition. The best Proof is, the doing it by Choice, and not by Necessity, for the Practice of Poverty in Jest, is a Preparation toward the Bearing of it in Earnest. But it is yet a Generous Disposition so to provide for the worst of Fortunes, as what may be easily born: the Premeditation makes them not only Tolerable, but delightful to us; for there's That in them, without which nothing can be Comfortable, that is to say, Security. If there were nothing else in Poverty, but the Certain Knowledge of our Friends, it were yet a most Desirable Blessing, when every Man leaves us, but those that Love us. It is a shame to place the Happiness of Life in Gold, and Silver, for which Bread and Water is sufficient; Or at the Worst, Hunger puts an end to Hunger. For the Honour of Poverty, it was both the Foundation, and the Cause of the Roman Empire; and no Man was ever yet so Poor, but he had enough to carry him to his Journeys End.  
ALL I desire is, that my Poverty 
b Mediocrity is the Best State of Fortune.  may not be a Burden to myself, or make me so to others, and That is the best State of Fortune, that is neither directly necessitous, nor far from it. A Mediocrity of Fortune, with a Gentleness of Mind, will preserve us from Fear, or Envy; which is a Desirable Condition, for no Man wants power to do Mischief. We never consider th' Blessing of Coveting nothing, and the Glory of being full in ourselves, without Depending upon Fortune. With Parsimony, a Little is sufficient, and without it, Nothing; whereas Frugality makes a Poor Man Rich. If we lose an Estate, we had better never have had it: He that has Least to Lose, has Lest to Fear; and those are better satisfied, whom Fortune never favoured, than those whom she has forsaken. That State is most Commodious, that lies betwixt Poverty, and Plenty. Diogenes understood this very well, when he put himself into an Incapacity of losing any thing. That Course of Life is most Commodious, which is both safe, and wholesome; the Body is to be indulged no farther than for Health, and rather Mortified, than not kept in Subjection to the Mind. It is Necessary to provide against Hunger, Thirst, and Cold; and somewhat for a Covering to shelter us against other Inconveniences; but not a Pin matter whether it be of Turf, or of Marble. A Man may lie as warm, and as Dry, under a Thatched, as under a Gilded Roof. Let the Mind be Great, and Glorious, and all other things are Despicable in Comparison. The Future is Uncertain; and I had rather beg of myself not to Desire any thing, than of Fortune to Bestow it.   
The End.  

SENECA OF Anger, AND Clemency.   

THE Contents.  
Chap. I. 
ANger described: It is against Nature; and only to be found in Men. p. 1.  Chap. II. 
The Rise of Anger. p. 7.  Chap. III. 
Anger may be Suppressed. p. 12.  Chap. IU. 
It is a short Madness, and a deformed Vice. p. 20.  Chap. V. 
Anger is neither Warrantable, nor Useful. p. 25.  Chap. VI 
Anger in General, with the Danger, and Effects of it. p. 45.  Chap. VII. 
The Ordinary Grounds, and Occasions of Anger. p. 65.  Chap. VIII. 
Advice in the Case of Contumely and Revenge. p. 76.  Chap. IX. 
Cautions against Anger in the Matter of Education, Converse, and other General Means of preventing it, both in ourselves, and others. p. 86.  Chap. X. 
Against Rash judgement. p. 100  Chap. XI. 
Take nothing ill from another Man; till you have made it your own Case. p. 109.  Chap. XII. 
Of Cruelty. p. 115.   

OF Clemency. p. 125.    

SENECA OF Anger.  

CHAP. I. Anger described; It is against Nature, and only to be found in Men.  
WE are here to Encounter the most Outrageous, Brutal, Dangerous, and Intractable of all Passions, the most Loathsome, and Unmannerly. Nay, the most ridiculous too; and, the subduing of this Monster will do a great deal toward the Establishment of Humane Peace. It is the Method of Physicians, to begin with a Description of the Disease, before they meddle with the Cure, and I know not why this may not do as well in the Distempers of the Mind, as in those of the Body.  
THE Stoics will have Anger to be, 
a Anger Desribed. What it is.  A desire of Punishing another for some Injury done. Against which it is Objected, That we are many times Angry with those, that never did hurt us, but possibly may, though the harm be not as yet done. But, I say, that they hurt us already in Conceit; and the very Purpose of it is an Injury in Thought, before it breaks out into Act. It is opposed again, That if Anger were a Desire of Punishing, Meàn People would not be Angry with Great Ones, that are out of their Reach: For, no Man can be said to Desire any thing, which he Judge's Impossible to Compass. But, I answer to this; That Anger is the Desire, not the Power, and Faculty of Revenge: Neither is any Man so low, but that the greatest Man alive, may, peradventure, lie at his Mercy.  
ARISTOTLE takes Anger to be, A desire of paying sorrow for sorrow; and of Plaguing those that have Plagued us. It is argued against both, that Beasts are Angry; though neither provoked by any Injury, nor moved with a desire of any body's Grief, or Punishment. Nay, though they cause it, they do not design, or seek it. Neither is Anger (how unreasonable soever in itself) found any where but in Reasonable Creatures. It is true, that Beasts have an Impulse of Rage, and Fierceness; as they are more affected also than Men, with some Pleasures: But we may as well call them Luxurious, and Ambitious, as Angry. And yet they are not without certain Images of Humane Affections. They have their Like, and their Loathe; but neither the Passions of Reasonable Nature, nor their Virtues, nor their Vices. They are moved to Fury by some Objects; they are quieted by others; they have their Terrors, and their Disappointments; but, without Reflection: And, let them be never so much Irritated, or Affrighted, so soon as ever the Occasion is removed, they fall to their Meat again, and lie down, and take their Rest. Wisdom, and Thought are the Goods of the Mind; whereof Brutes are wholly Incapable; and, we are as unlike them within, as we are without: They have an odd Kind of Fancy, and they have a Voice too; but Inarticulate, and Confused, and Incapable of those Variations which are Familiar to us.  
ANGER is not only a Vice, but a Vice, point blank against 
b It is against Nature.  Nature, for it Divides, in stead of Joining; and, in some measure frustrates the End of Providence in Humane Society. One Man was born to help another: Anger makes us destroy one another; the one Unites; the other Separates; the one is Beneficial to us; the other Mischievous: the one Succours even Strangers; the other Destroys even the most Intimate Friends: The one Ventures all to Save another, the other Ruins himself to Undo another. Nature is Bountiful; but Anger is Pernicious: For it is not Fear, but Mutual Love, that binds up Mankind.  
THERE are some Motions that look like Anger, which cannot properly be called so; as the Passion of the People against the Gladiators, when they hang off, and will not dispatch themselves, so soon as the Spectators would have them: There is something in it of the humour of Children, that if they get a fall, will never leave Bawling, till the Naughty Ground is beaten, and then all is well again. They are Angry without any Cause, or Injury; they are deluded by an Imitation of strokes, and pacified with Counterfeit Tears: A False, and a Childish Sorrow, is appeased with as false, and as Childish a Revenge. They take it for a Contempt, if the Gladiators do not immediately cast themselves upon the Sword's point. They look presently about them from one to another, as who should say, Do but see, my Masters, how these Rogues abuse us.  
TO descend to the particular Branches, and Varieties, would be unnecessary, and endless. There is a 
c Several sorts of Anger.  Stubborn, a Vindictive, a Quarrelsome, a Violent, a Froward, a Sullen, a Morose kind of Anger; And then we have this Variety in Complication too. One goes no further than words, Another proceeds immediately to blows, without a word speaking; a Third sort breaks out into Cursing, and Reproachful Language: And there are, that content themselves with Chiding, and Complaining. There's a Conciliable Anger, and there is an Implacable; but in what form, or degree soever it appears, all Anger, without Exception, is Vicious.   

CHAP. II. The Rise of Anger.  
THE Question will be here, Whether Anger takes its Rise from Impulse, or Judgement: That is, whether it be moved of its own accord, or as many other things are from within us, that arise we know not how. The Clearing of this Point will lead us to greater Matters.  

d The first Motion of Anger.  THE first Motion of Anger, is, in truth, Involuntary; and only a kind of Menacing preparation towards it. The second deliberates; as who should say, This Injury should not Pass without a Revenge; and there it stops. The Third is Impotent; and, Right or Wrong, resolves upon Vengeance. The First Motion is not to be avoided; nor indeed the Second, any more than Yawning for Company: Custom, and Care may lessen it, but, Reason itself cannot overcome it. The Third, as it Rises upon Consideration, it must fall so too; for, that Motion which proceeds with Judgement, may be taken away with Judgement. A Man thinks himself Injured, and hath a Mind to be revenged, but, for some Reason, lets it rest. This is not properly Anger, but an Affection overruled by Reason: A kind of Proposal disapproved. And, What are Reason, and Affection; but only Changes, of the Mind for the better, or for the worse? Reason Deliberates before it Judges; But, Anger passes Sentence without Deliberation: Reason only attends the Matter in hand; but, Anger is startled at every Accident: It passes the Bounds of Reason, and carries it away with it. In short; Anger is an Agitation of the Mind that proceeds to the Resolution of a Revenge, the Mind assenting to it. There is no doubt but Anger is moved by the Species of an Injury, but whether that Motion be Voluntary, or Involuntary, is the Point in debate; though it seems manifest to me, that Anger does nothing, but where the Mind goes along with it. For, first to take an Offence, and then to meditate a Revenge; and, after that, to lay both Propositions together, and say to myself; This Injury ought not to have been done; but, as the Case stands, I must do myself right. This Discourse can never proceed without the Concurrence of the Will. The first motion indeed is single; but, all the rest is deliberation, and Superstructure: There is something understood, and condemned; an Indignation conceived, and a Revenge propounded. This can never be without the Agreement of the Mind to the Matter in deliberation. The end of this Question is, to know the Nature, and Quality of Anger. If it be bred in us, it will never yield to Reason, for all Involuntary Motions are Inevitable, and Invincible: as a kind of Horror, and Shrugging upon the sprinkling of cold Water; the Hair standing on end at ill News: Giddiness at the sight of a Precipice; Blushing at lewd Discourse. In these Cases, Reason can do no good; but Anger may undoubtedly be overcome by Caution, and good Counsel; for, it is a voluntary Vice, and not of the Condition of those Accidents that befall us as Frailties of our Humanity: Amongst which, must be reckoned the first Motions of the Mind, after the Opinion of an Injury received; which it is not in the power of Humane Nature to avoid: And this is it that affects us upon the Stage, or in a Story. Can any Man Read the Death of Pompey, and not be touched with an Indignation? The sound of a Trumpet rouzes the Spirits, and provokes Courage. It makes a Man sad to see the Shipwreck even of an Enemy; and we are as much surprised by fear in other Cases: All these Motions are not so much Affections, as Preludes to them. The Clashing of Arms; or, the Beating of a Drum, excites a War-horse. Nay, a Song from Xenophantes would make Alexander take his Sword in his hand. In all these Cases, the Mind rather suffers, than acts; and therefore it is not an Affection, to be Moved, but to give way to that Motion, and to follow willingly what was started by Chance. These are not Affections, but Impulses of the Body. The bravest Man in the World may look pale when he puts on his Armour; his knees knock, and his heart work before the Battle is joined; but, these are only Motions: whereas Anger is an Excursion, and proposes Revenge, or Punishment, which cannot be without the Mind. As Fear flies, so Anger Assaults; and, it is not possible to resolve either upon Violence, or Caution, without the Concurrence of the Will.   

CHAP. III. Anger may be suppressed.  
IT is an Idle thing to pretend, that we cannot Govern our Anger; for, some things that we do, are much harder than others that we ought to do; the wildest Affections may be tamed by Discipline, and there is hardly any thing which the Mind will do, but it may do. There needs no more Argument in this Case, than the Instances of several Persons, both Powerful and Impatient, that have gotten the Absolute Mastery of themselves in this point.  
THRASIPPUS in his Drink fell foul upon the Cruelties of 
a Pisistratus Mastered his Anger.  Pisistratus; who, when he was urged by several about him to make an Example of him, returned this Answer, Why should I be Angry with a Man that stumbles upon me blindfold? In effect, most of our Quarrels are of our own making, either by mistake, or by Aggravation. Anger comes sometimes upon Us, but we go oftener to It; and, in stead of Rejecting it, we Call it.  
AUGUSTUS was a great Master of his 
b The Gentleness of Augustus.  Passion: for Timagines an Historian, wrote several bitter things against his Person, and his Family; which passed among the People plausibly enough, as Pieces of rash Wit commonly do. Caesar advised him several times to forbear, and when that would not do, forbade him his Roof. After this, Asimius Pollio gave him entertainment; and, he was so well beloved in the City, that every Man's House was open to him. Those things that he had written in the honour of Augustus, he recited, and burnt; and publicly professed himself Caesar's Enemy: Augustus, for all this, never fell out with any Man that received him; only once he told Pollio, that he had taken a Snake into his Bosom: And, as Pollio was about to excuse himself. No, (says Caesar, interrupting him) make your best of him; and, offering to cast him off at that very moment, if Caesar pleased: Do you think, (says Caesar) that I will ever contribute to the parting of you, that made you Friends? for, Pollio was angry with him before, and only entertained him now, because Caesar had discarded him.  
The Moderation of Antigonus was 
c The Moderation of Antigonus.  remarkable; some of his Soldiers werè railing at him one night, where there was but a Hanging betwixt them: Antigonus overheard them, and putting it gently aside; Soldiers, says he, stand a little farther off, for fear the King should hear you. And we are to consider, not only violent examples, but moderate, where there wanted neither Cause of displeasure, nor power of Revenge: As in the case of Antigonus, who, the same night hearing his Soldiers Cursing him for bringing them into so foul a way; he went to them, and, without telling them who he was, helped them out of it. Now, says he, you may be allowed to Curse him that brought you into the Mire, provided you Bless him that took you out of it.  
IT was a notable Story, that of Vedius Pallio, 
d A Predominant Fear Master's Anger.  upon his Inviting of Augustus to Supper. One of his Boys happened to break a Glass; and his Master, in a Rage, commanded him to be thrown into a Pond to feed his Lampreys. This Action of his might be taken for Luxury, though, in truth, it was Cruelty. The Boy was seized, but broke loose, and threw himself at Augustus his feet, only desiring that he might not die that Death! Caesar, in abhorrence of the Barbarity, presently ordered all the rest of the Glasses to be broken; the Boy to be released, and the Pond to be filled up, that there might be no farther Occasion for an Inhumanity of that Nature. This was an Authority well employed. Shall the breaking of a Glass cost a Man his Life? Nothing but a predominant fear could ever have mastered this Choleric, and Sanguinary disposition. This Man deserved to die a Thousand Deaths, either for eating Humane Flesh at Second hand, in his Lampreys, or for keeping of his Fish to be so fed.  
IT is written of Praexaspes (a Favourite of Cambyses') who was much given to Wine, that he took the Freedom to tell his Prince of his hard Drinking, and to lay before him the Scandal, and the Inconvenience of his Excesses; and how that in those Distempers, he had not the Command of himself. Now (says Cambyses) to show you your mistake; you shall see me drink deeper than ever I did, and yet keep the use of my Eyes, and of my Hands, as well as if I were sober. Upon this, he drank to a higher pitch than ordinary, and ordered Praexaspes his Son to go out, and stand on the other side of the Threshold, with his left Arm over his head; And now (says he) if I have a good aim, have at the heart of him. He shot, and upon cutting up the Young Man, they found indeed that the Arrow had struck him through the middle of the heart. What do you think now (says Cambyses) Is my hand steady, or no? Apollo himself, says Praexaspes, could not have outdone it. It may be a Question now, which was the greater Impiety, the Murder itself, or the Commendation of it: for him to take the heart of his Son, while it was yet Reaking, and Panting under the Wound, for an Occasion of Flattery; Why was there not another Experiment made upon the Father, to try if Cambyses could not yet have mended his shot? This was a most unmanly Violation of Hospitality, but the Approbation of the Fact was still worse than the Crime itself. This Example of Praexaspes proves sufficiently that a Man may repress his Anger; for he returned not one ill word; no not so much as a Complaint; but he paid dear for his good Counsel. He had been wiser perhaps, if he had let the King alone in his Cups, for he had better have drunk Wine than Blood; 'Tis a dangerous Office to give Good Advice to Intemperate Princes.  
ANOTHER Instance of Anger suppressed 
e An Instance of Anger suppressed in Harpagus.  we have in Harpagus, who was commanded to expose Cyrus upon a Mountain, but the Child was preserved; which when Astyages came afterward to understand, he invited Harpagus to a Dish of Meat; and when he had eaten his fill, he told him it was a piece of his Son, and Asked him how he liked the seasoning. Whatever pleases your Majesty, says Harpagus, must please me; and he made no more words on't. It is most Certain that we might govern our Anger if we would; for the same thing that Galls us at home, gives us no offence at all abroad, and what's the Reason of it, but that we are Patient in the one place, and Froward in the other.  
IT was a strong provocation, that which was given to 
f The Moderation of Philip of Macedon.  Philip of Macedon, the Father of Alexander: The Athenians sent their Ambassadors to him, and they were received with this Compliment. Tell me Gentlemen, says Philip, What is there that I can do to oblige the Athenians? Demochares, one of the Ambassadors, told him, That they would take it for a great Obligation if he would be pleased to hang himsef. This Insolence gave an Indignation to the Bystanders, but Philip bade them not to meddle with him, but even to let that foul-mouthed Fellow go as he came. And, for you, the rest of the Ambassadors, says he, pray tell the Athenians, that it is worse to speak such things, than to hear, and forgive them. This wonderful Patience under Contumelies was a great means of Philip's Security.   

CHAP. IU. It is a short madness, and a deformed Vice.  
HE was much in the right whoever it was, that first called Anger, a short Madness; for they have both of them the same Symptoms; And there is so wonderful a resemblance betwixt the Transports of Choler, and those of Frenzy, that 'tis a hard matter to know the One from the Other. A Bold, Fierce, and Threatening Countenance, as pale as Ashes, and in the same Moment as red as Blood; a Glaring Eye; a Wrinkled Brow, Violent Motions, the Hands Restless, and perpetually in Action, Wring, and Menacing, Snapping of the Joints, Stamping with the Feet, the Hair Staring, Trembling▪ Lips, a Forced, and Squeaking Voice; the Speech False, and Broken, Deep, and Frequent Sighs, and Ghostly Looks; the Veins swell, the Heart pants, the Knees knock, with a hundred dismal Accidents that are Common to both Distempers. Neither is Anger a bare Resemblance only of Madness, but many times an irrevocable transition into the thing itself. How many persons have we known, read, and heard of, that have lost their Wits in a Passion, and never came to themselves again? It is therefore to be avoided, not only for Moderation sake, but also for Health. Now if the outward appearance of Anger be so foul, and hideous, How deformed must that miserable Mind be that is harassed with it? for it leaves no place either for Counsel, or Friendship, Honesty, or Good Manners; No place either for the Exercise of Reason, or for the Offices of Life. If I were to describe it, I would draw a Tiger bathed in Blood; sharp set, and ready to take a leap at his Prey: or dress it up as the Poets represent the Furies, with Whips, Snakes, and Flames. It should be Sour, Livid, full of Scars, and wallowing in Gore, Raging Up, and Down, Destroying, Grinning, Bellowing, and Pursuing; Sick of all other things, and most of all of itself. It turns Beauty into Deformity, and the Calmest Counsels into Fierceness; It disorders our very Garments, and fills the Mind with Horror. How abominable is it in the Soul then, when it appears so hideous even through the Bones, the Skin, and so many Impediments? Is not he a Madman that has lost the Government of himself, and is tossed hither and thither by his Fury, as by a Tempest? The Executioner of his own Revenge, both with his heart, and hand; and the Murderer of his nearest Friends? The smallest matter moves it, and makes us Insociable and Inaccessible. It does all things by Violence, as well upon itself, as others, and it is in short the Master of all Passions.  
THERE is not any Creature so 
g All Creatures are made more Terrible by Anger.  Terrible, and Dangerous by Nature, but it becomes fiercer by Anger. Not that Beasts have humane Affections, but certain Impulses they have which come very near them. The Boar ●…omes, champs, and whets his Tusks; the Bull tosses his horns in the Air, Bounds, and tears up the Ground with his Feet. The Lion Rores, and Swings himself with his Tail; the Serpent Swells, and there is a Ghastly kind of fellness in the Aspect of a Mad-Dog. How great a Wickedness is it now to indulge a Violence, that does not only turn a Man into a Beast, but makes even the most outrageous of Beasts themselves to be more Dreadful, and Mischievous? A Vice that carries along with it neither Pleasure, nor Profit, neither Honour, nor Security, but on the Contrary, destroys us to all the Comfortable, and Glorious Purposes of our Reasonable Being. Some there are, that will have the Root of it to be Greatness of Mind. And why may we not as well entitle Impudence to Courage, whereas the One is Proud, the Other Brave; the One is Gracious, and Gentle, the Other Rude, and Furious. At the same rate, we may ascribe Magnanimity to Avarice, Luxury, and Ambition, which are all but Splendid Impotences without Measure, and without Foundation. There is nothing Great, but what is Virtuous, nor indeed truly Great, but what is also Composed, and Quiet. Anger, alas▪ is but a Wild, Impetuous Blast, an Empty Tumour, the very Infirmity of Women, and Children; a Brawling, Clamorous Evil, and the more noise, the less Courage, as we find it commonly, that the Boldest Tongues have the Feintest Hearts.   

CHAP. V. Anger is neither Warrantable, nor Useful.  
IN the first place, Anger is Unwarrantable, as it is Unjust: For it falls many times upon the wrong person, and discharges itself upon the Innocent, in stead of the Guilty: beside the disproportion of making the most trivial Offences to be Capital, and punishing an Inconsiderate Word perhaps, with Torments, Fetters, Infamy, or Death. It allows a Man neither Time, nor Means for Defence, but Judges a Cause without Hearing it, and admits of no Mediation. It flies in the face of Truth itself, if it be of the Adverse Party; and turns Obstinacy in an Error, into an Argument of Justice. It does every thing with Agitation, and Tumult: Whereas Reason, and Equity, can destroy whole Families, if there be Occasion for't, even to the extinguishing of their Names, and Memories, without any Indecency, either of Countenance, or Action.  
SECONDLY, It is Insociable to the 
a Anger is Insociable.  highest point, for it spares neither Friend, nor Foe; but tears all to pieces, and casts Humane Nature into a perpetual State of War. It dissolves the Bond of Mutual Society, in so much that our very Companions, and Relations, dare not come near us; it renders us unfit for the Ordinary Offices of Life, for we can neither govern our Tongues, our Hands, nor any part of our Body. It tramples upon the Laws of Hospitality, and of Nations, leaves every Man to be his own Carver, and all things public, and private, Sacred and Profane, suffer Violence.  
THIRDLY, It is to no purpose. 
b It is Unprofitable.  'Tis a sad thing, we cry, to put up these Injuries, and we are not able to bear them; as if any Man that can bear Anger, would not bear an Injury, which is much more Supportable. You'll say, that Anger does some good yet, for it keeps People in Awe, and secures a Man from Contempt; never considering, that it is more dangerous to be feared, than despised. Suppose that an Angry Man could do as much as he threatens; the more Terrible, he is still the more odious: and on the other side, if he wants Power, he is the more despicable for his Anger; for there is nothing more wretched than a Choleric Huff, that makes a Noise, and nobody cares for't. If Anger should be Valuable because Men are afraid of it; Why not an Adder, a Toad, or a Scorpion as well? It makes us lead the Life of Gladiators; we Live, and we Fight together. We hate the Happy, despise the Miserable, envy our Superiors, Insult upon our Inferiors, and there is nothing in the World which we will not do, either for pleasure, or profit. To be Angry at Offenders, is to make ourselves the Common Enemies of Mankind, which is both weak, and wicked; and we may as well be Angry that our Thistles do not bring forth Apples; or that every Pibble in our Grounds is not an Oriental Pearl. If we are Angry both with Young Men, and with Old, because they do offend; Why not with Infants too, because they will offend? It is Laudable to rejoice for any thing that is well done; but, to be transported for another Man's doing Ill, is narrow, and sordid. Nor is it for the dignity of Virtue to be either Angry, or Sad. It is with a Teinted Mind as with an Ulcer, not only the Touch, but the very offer at it makes us shrink, and Complain; When we come once to be carried off from our Poise, we are lost. In the Choice of a Sword, we take care that it be weildy, and well mounted; and it concerns us as much to be wary of engaging in the Excesses of Ungovernable Passions. It is not the Speed of a Horse altogether that pleases us, unless we find that he can Stop, and Turn at Pleasure. 'Tis a sign of Weakness, and a kind of Stumbling, for a Man to Run, when he Intends only to Walk; and it behoves us to have the same Command of our Minds that we have of our Bodies. Beside that, the greatest punishment of an Injury is the Conscience of having done it; and no Man suffers more, than he that is turned over to the Pain of a Repentance. How much better is it to Compose Injuries, than to Revenge them? For it does not only spend time, but the Revenge of one Injury exposes us to more. In fine, as it is unreasonable to be Angry at a Crime, it is as foolish to be Angry without one.  
BUT, May not an honest Man then be allowed to be Angry at the 
b And in no Case Allowable.  Murder of his Father, or the Ravishing of his Sister, or Daughter, before his Face? No, not at all; I will defend my Parents, and I will repay the Injuries that are done them; but it is my Piety, and not my Anger that moves me to it. I will do my Duty without fear, or confusion; I will not Rage, I will not Weep; but discharge the Office of a good Man, without forfeiting the dignity of a Man. If my Father be assaulted, I'll endeavour to rescue him; If he be killed I'll do right to his Memory; and all This, not in any transport of Passion; but in Honour, and Conscience. Neither is there any need of Anger where Reason does the same thing. A Man may be Temperate, and yet Vigorous, and raise his Mind according to the Occasion, more or less, as a Stone is thrown according to the Discretion, and Intent of the Caster. How outrageous have I seen some People for the Loss of a Monkey, or a Spaniel; and were it not a shame to have the same sense for a Friend that we have for a Puppy; and to cry like Children, as much for a Bauble as for the Ruin of our Country? This is not an Effect of Reason, but of Infirmity. For a Man indeed to expose his Person for his Prince, his Parents, or his Friends, out of a Sense of honesty, and a Judgement of Duty, it is without dispute a worthy, and a Glorious Action; but it must be done then with Sobriety, Calmness, and Resolution. It is high time to convince the World of the Indignity, and Uselessness of this Passion, when it has the Authority, and Recommendation of no less than Aristotle himself, as an Affection very much conducing to all heroic Actions that require Heat, and Vigour: Now, to show on the other side, that it is not in any Case Profitable, we shall lay open the Obstinate, and Unbridled Madness of it: A Wickedness, neither sensible of Infamy, nor of Glory; without either Modesty, or Fear; and if it passes once from Anger into a hardened Hatred, it is Incurable. It is either stronger than Reason, or it is weaker. If stronger, there is no contending with it; if weaker, Reason will do the business without it. Some will have it, that an Angry Man is Good Natured, and Sincere, whereas in truth, he only lays himself open out of heedlessness, and want of Caution. If it were in itself Good, the more of it the better; but in this Case, the more, the worse, and a Wise Man does his duty without the Aid of any thing that is ill. 'Tis objected by some, that those are the most Generous Creatures, which are the most prone to Anger. But first, Reason in Man, is Impetus in Beasts. Secondly, without Discipline, it runs into Audaciousness, and Temerity; over and above that the same thing does not help all. If Anger helps the Lion, 'Tis Fear that saves the Stag; Swiftness the Hawk, and Flight the Pigeon; but Man has God for his Example (who is never Angry) and not the Creatures. And yet it is not amiss sometimes to counterfeit Anger; as upon the Stage: Nay upon the Bench, and in the Pulpit, where the Imitation of it is more effectual, than the thing itself. But it is a great error, to take this Passion either for a Companion, or for an Assistant to Virtue; that makes a Man incapable of all those Necessary Counsels, by which Virtue is to govern herself. Those are false, and Inauspicious Powers, and Destructive of themselves, which arise only from the Accession, and fervour of a Disease. Reason Judges according to right; Anger will have every thing seem right whatever it does; and when it has once pitched upon a Mistake, it is never to be convinced; but prefers a Pertinacy even in the greatest Evil, before the most necessary Repentance.  
SOME People are of Opinion, that Anger 
c It is more mischievous in War, than in Peace.  Inflames, and Animates the Soldier, that it is a Spur to bold, and arduous Undertake▪ and that it were better to Moderate, than wholly to suppress it; for fear of dissolving the Spirit, and force of the Mind. To this I answer, That Virtue does not need the help of Vice, but where there is any Ardour of Mind Necessary, we may rouse ourselves, and be more or less brisk, and vigorous, as there is occasion: But all without Anger still. 'Tis a mistake to say, that we may make use of Anger as a Common Soldier, but not as a Commander; for if it hears Reason, and follows▪ Orde●…s, it is not properly Anger; and if it does Not, it is Contumacious, and Mutinous. By this Argument, a Man must be Angry to be Valiant; Covetous, to be Industrious; Timorous to be Safe, which makes our Reason confederate with our Affections. And 'tis all one whether Passion be Inconsiderate without Reason, or Reason Ineffectual without Passion; Since the one cannot be without the other. 'Tis true, the less the Passion, the less is the Mischief; for a little Passion is the smaller Evil. Nay, so far is it from being of Use, or Advantage in the Field, that 'tis the Place of all others where 'tis the most dangerous: for the Actions of War are to be managed with Order, and Caution, not Precipitation, and Fancy: Whereas Anger is heedless, and heady, and the Virtue only of Barbarous Nations, which, though their Bodies were much stronger, and more hardened, were still worsted by the Moderation, and Discipline of the Romans. There is not upon the Face of the Earth, a Bolder, or a more Indefatigable Nation than the Germans; not a Braver upon a Charge, nor a hardy against Colds, and Heats; their only Delight, and Exercise, is in Arms, to the Utter neglect of all things else: and yet upon the Encounter, they are broken, and destroyed through their own Undisciplined Temerity, even by the most effeminate of Men. The Huntsman is not Angry with the wild Boar, when he either pursues, or receives him; a good Swordman watches his Opportunity, and keeps himself upon his Guard, whereas passion lays a Man open: nay, it is one of the prime Lessons in a Fencing-School, to learn not to be Angry. If Fabius had been Choleric, Rome had been lost, and before he Conquered Hannibal, he overcame Himself. If Scipio had been Angry, he would never have left Hannibal, and his Army, (who were the proper Objects of his Displeasure) to carry the War into Africa, and so to compass his End by a more temperate way. Nay, he was so slow, that it was charged upon him for want of Mettle, and Resolution. And what did the Other Scipio? (Affricanus I mean) how much time did he spend before Numantia, to the Common Grief both of his Country, and Himself, though he reduced it, at last, by so miserable a Famine, that the Inhabitants laid violent hands upon themselves, and left neither Man, Woman, nor Child, to survive the ruins of it. If Anger makes a Man fight better; so does Wine, Frenzy, nay and Fear itself; For the greatest Coward in despair does the greatest wonders. No Man is Courageous in his Anger, that was not so without it. But put the Case that Anger, by Accident, may have done some good, and so have Fevers removed some distempers; but it is an Odious kind of Remedy, that makes us indebted to a Disease for a Cure. How many Men have been preserved by Poison; by a Fall from a Precipice; by a Shipwreck; by a Tempest? Does it therefore follow, that we are to recommend the Practice of these Experiments?  
BUT, in Case of an Exemplary, and 
d He that's Angry at Public Wickedness, shall never be at Peace.  Prostitute Dissolution of Manners, when Clodius shall be preferred, and Cicero rejected; when Loyalty shall be broken upon the Wheel, and Treason sit Triumphant upon the Bench; It not this a Subject to move the Choler of any Virtuous Man? No, by no means, Virtue will never allow of the Correcting of one Vice by another; or that Anger, which is the Greater Crime of the two, should presume to punish the less. It is the Natural Property of Virtue to make a Man Serene, and Cheerful; and it is not for the Dignity of a Philosopher, to be Transported either with Grief, or Anger: And then the End of Anger is Sorrow, the constant effect of disappointment, and Repentance. But, to my purpose. If a Man should be Angry at Wickedness, the Greater the Wickedness is, the Greater must be his Anger: And, so long as there is Wickedness in the World, he must never be pleased▪ Which makes his Quiet dependent upon the Humour, or Manners of Others. There passes not a day over our heads, but he that is Choleric, shall have some Cause, or other of displeasure, either from Men, Accidents, or Bus●…ess. He shall never stir out of his house, but he shall meet with Criminals of all sorts; Prodigal, Impudent▪ Covetous, Perfidious, Contentious; Children persecuting their Parents; Parents cursing their Children; the Innocent accused, the Delinquent acqui●…ed, and the Judge practising that in his Chamber, which he condemns upon the Bench▪ In fine, wherever there are Men, there are Faults, and upon these Terms, Socrates himself should never bring the same Countenance home again, that he carried out with him.  
IF Anger were Sufferable in any Case, it might be allowed against an Incorrigible Criminal, 
e justice is Calm, and Temperate.  under the hand of Justice: But Punishment is not matter of Anger, but of Caution. The Law is without Passion, and strikes Malefactors as we do Serpents, and Venomous Creatures, for fear of greater Mischief. It is not for the dignity of a Judge, when he comes to pronounce the fatal Sentence, to express any Motions of Anger in his Looks, Words, or Gestures: For he condemns the Vice, not the Man; and looks upon the Wickedness without Anger, as he does upon the Prosperity of Wicked Men without Envy. But though he be not Angry, I would have him a little moved, in point of Humanity; but yet without any offence either to his Place, or Wisdom. Our Passions vary, but Reason is equal; and it were a great Folly for that which is Stable, Faithful, and Sound, to repair for Succour to that which is Uncertain, False, and Distempered. If the Offender be Incurable, take him out of the World, that if he will not be Good, he may cease to be Evil; but this must be without Anger too. Does any Man hate an Arm, or a Leg, when he cuts it off; or reckon That a Passion, which is only a Miserable Cure? We knock Mad Dogs on the head, and remove Scabbed Sheep out of the Fold: and this is not Anger still, but Reason; to separate the Sick from the Sound; Justice cannot be Angry; nor is there any need of an Angry Magistrate, for the Punishment of Foolish, and Wicked Men. The Power of Life, and Death, must not be managed with Passion. We give a Horse the Spur, that is restiff, or jadish, and tries to cast his Rider. But, this is without Anger too, and only to take down his Stomach, and bring him, by Correction, to Obedience.  
'TIS true, that Correction is Necessary, 
f Correction is necessary, but within Bounds.  yet within Reason, and Bounds, for it does not Hurt, but Profit us under an Appearance of Harm. Ill Dispositions in the Mind are to be dealt with as those in the Body; The Physician first tries Purging, and Abstinence; if This will not do, he proceeds to Bleeding, nay to Dismembering, rather than fail; for there's no Operation too severe that ends in Health. The Public Magistrate begins with Persuasion, and his business is, to beget a Detestation for Vice, and a Veneration for Virtue: From Thence if need be, he advances to Admonition, and Reproach, and then to Punishments; but Moderate, and Revocable, unless the Wickedness be In●…urable▪ and then the Punishment must be so too. There's only This Difference, the Physician, when he cannot save his Patient's Life, endeavours to make his Death Easie; but the Magistrate Aggravates the Death of the Criminal, with Infamy, and Disgrace: not as Delighting in the severity of it (for no Good Man can be so Barbarous) but for Example, and to the end that they that will do no good Living, may do some Dead. The end of all Correction, is either the Amendment of Wicked Men, or to Prevent the Influence of Ill Example: For Men are Punished with a Respect to the Future, not to expiate Offences Committed, but for fear of worse to come. Public Offenders must be Publicly Executed▪ that their Punishment may be a Terror to Others; but still all this while, the Power of Life and Death must not be Managed with Passion. The Medicine, in the mean time must be suited to the Disease: Infamy cures One; Pain Another; Exile cures a Third; Beggary, a Fourth; But there are some that are only to be Cured by the Gibbet. I would be no more Angry with a Thief, or a Traitor, than I am Angry with myself when I open a Vein. All Punishment is but a Moral, or a Civil Remedy. I do not do any thing that is very Ill; but yet I Transgress Often. Try me First with a Private Reprehension; and then with a Public; If That will not serve, see what Banishment will do; If not That neither, load me with Chains, lay me in Prison: But if I should prove Wicked even for Wickedness sake, and leave no Hope of Reclaiming me, it would be a kind of Mercy to Destroy me. Vice is Incorporated with me; and there's no Remedy, but the taking of Both away together; but still, without Anger.   

CHAP. VI Anger in General, with the Danger, and Effects of it.  
THERE is no Surer Argument of a Great Mind, than not to be transported to Anger by any Accident: The Clouds, and the Tempests are formed below, but all Above is Quiet, and Serene: which is the Emblem of a brave Man, that suppresses all Provocations, and lives within himself, Modest, Venerable, and Composed: Whereas Anger is a Turbulent humour, which at first dash casts off all shame, without any regard to Order, Measure, or good Manners; transporting a Man into Misbecoming Violences, with his Tongue, his Hands, and every part of his Body. And whoever considers the Foulness, and the Brutality of this Vice, must acknowledge, that there i●… no such Monster in Nature, as on●… Man raging against another, and labouring to sink that, which can never be drowned, but with himself for Company. It renders us incapable, either of Discourse, or of other common Duties. It is of all Passions the most Powerful: For it makes a Man that is in Love, to kill his Mistress; The Ambitious Man to trample upon his Honours, and the Covetous to throw away his Fortune. There is not any Mortal that lives free from the danger of it, for it makes even the heavy, and the good Natured to be fierce, and outrageous; It invades us like a Pestilence, the Lusty as well as the Weak, and 'tis not either strength of Body, or a good Diet, that can secure us against it; Nay, the Learnedest, and Men otherwise of exemplary Sobriety, are infested with it. It is so potent a Passion, that Socrates durst not trust himself with it. Sirrah (says he, to his Man) now would I beat you, if I were not angry with you. There is no Age, o●… Sect of Men that Scapes it. Ot●…r Vices take us one by one; but This, like an Epidemical Co●…agion, sweeps all: Men, Women, and Children; Princes, and Beggars are carried away with it in Sholes, and Troops, as one Man. It was never seen that a whole Nation was in Love with one Woman, or Unanimously bend upon one Vice: But here and there, some particular Men are teinted with some Particular Crimes; whereas in Anger, a single word many times inflames the whole Multitude, and Men betake themselves Presently to Fire, and Sword upon it; the Rabble takes upon them to give Laws to their Governors; the Common Soldiers, to their Officers; to the Ruin, not only of Private Families, but of Kingdoms, turning their Arms against their own Leaders, and choosing their own Generals. There's no public Council; no putting of things to the Vote; but in a Rage the Mutineers divide from the Senate, name their Head, force the Nobility in their own Houses, and put them to death with their own hands. The Laws of Nations are violated, the Persons of Public Ministers affronted, whole Cities infected with a General Madness, and no Respite allowed for the Abatement, or Discussing of this Public Tumour. The Ships are crowded with tumultuary Soldiers. And in this rude, and Illboding Manner they March, and act under the Conduct only of their own Passions. Whatever comes next serves them for Arms, till at last they pay for their Licentious rashness, with the slaughter of the whole party: This is the Event of a heady, and inconsiderate War. When men's Minds are struck with the Opinion of an Injury, they fall on immediately wheresoever their Passion leads them, without either Order, Fear, or Caution; provoking their own Mischief; never at Rest, till they come to Blows; and pursuing their Revenge, even with their Bodies upon the Points of their Enemy's Weapons. So that the Anger itself is much more hurtful to us, than the Injury that provokes it; for the one is bounded, but where the other will stop, no Man living knows. There are no greater Slaves certainly, than those that serve Anger, for they emprove their Misfortunes by an Impatience more insupportable than the Calamity that causes it.  
NOR does it rise by degrees, as other Passions, but flushes like Gunpowder, blowing up all 
a Anger blows up all in a Moment.  in a Moment. Neither does it only press to the Mark, but overbears every thing in the way to't. Other vices Drive us, but This Hurry's us headlong; other Passions stand firm Themselves, though perhaps we cannot resist them, but this consumes, and destroys itself: It falls like Thunder, or a Tempest; with an Irrevocable Violence, that gathers strength in the Passage, and then evaporates in the Conclusion. Other Vices are Unreasonable, but this is Unhealthful too; Other distempers have their Intervals, and Degrees, but in this we are thrown down, as from a Precipice; There is not any thing so amazing to others, or so destructive to itself: So Proud, and Insolent, if it succeeds, or so Extravagant, if it be disappointed. No repulse discourages it, and for want of other Matter to Work upon, it falls foul upon itself; and let the Ground be never so Trivial, it is sufficient for the Wildest outrage imaginable. It spares neither Age, Sex, nor Quality. Some People would be Luxurious perchance, but that they are Poor; and Others Lazy, if they were not perpetually kept at work. The Simplicity of a Country Life keeps many Men in Ignorance of the Frauds, and Impieties of Courts, and Camps: But, no Nation, or Condition of Men is exempt from the Impressions of Anger, and it is equally dangerous, as well in War, as in Peace. We find, that Elephants will be made Familiar; Bulls will suffer Children to ride upon their backs, and play with their horns; Bears, and Lions, by good Usage, will be brought to ●…awn upon their Masters: How desperate a Madness is it then for Men, after the reclaiming of the fiercest of Beasts, and the bringing of them to be tractable, and domestic, to become yet worse than Beasts one to another. Alexander had two Friends, Clitus, and Lysimachus; the One he exposed to a Lion, the Other to Himself, and he that was turned loose to the Beast escaped. Why do we not rather make the best of a short Life, and render ourselves Amiable to all while we Live, and Desirable when we Dye?  
LET us bethink ourselves of our Mortality, and not squander away the little 
b Anger is Loss of Time, as well as of Peace.  time that we have, upon Animosities, and Feuds, as if it were never to be at an end? Had we not better enjoy the Pleasure of our own Life, than be still contriving how to Gall, and torment another's; In all our Brawling, and Contentions, never so much as dreaming of our own weakness. Do we not know that these implacable Enmities of ours lie at the Mercy of a Fever, or any petty Accident to disappoint. Our Fate is at hand, and the very hour that we have set for another Man's Death, may peradventure be prevented by our own. What is it that we make all this bustle for; and so needlessly disquiet our Minds? we are offended with our Servants, our Masters, our Princes, our Clients: 'Tis but a little Patience, and we shall be all of us Equal; so that there's no need either of Ambushes, or of Combats. Our Wrath cannot go beyond Death; and Death will most undoubtedly come, whether we be peevish, or quiet. 'Tis time lost, to take pains to do that, which will infallibly be done without us. But, suppose that we would only have our Enemy Banished, Disgraced, or Damaged, let his punishment be more or less, it is yet too long, either for him to be inhumanely tormented, or for us ourselves to be most barbarously pleased with it. It holds in Anger, as in Mourning, it must, and will at last fall of itself: let us look to it then betimes, for when 'tis once come to an ill habit, we shall never want matter to feed it; and 'tis much better to overcome our Passions, than to be overcome by them. Some way or other, either our Parents, Children, Servants, Acquaintance, or Strangers, will be continually vexing us. We are tossed hither and thither by our Affections, like a Feather in a Storm, and by fresh provocations the Madness becomes perpetual. Miserable Creatures! That ever our Precious hours should be so ill employed. How prone and eager are we in our Hatred, and how backward in our Love? were it not much better now to be making of Friendships, pacifying of Enemies; doing of good Offices both Public and Private; than to be still meditating of mischief, and designing how to wound one Man in his Fame, another in his Fortune, a third in his Person: the One being so Easie, Innocent, and Safe; and the Other so Difficult, Impious, and Hazardous. Nay, take a Man in Chains, and at the Foot of his Oppressor; How many are there, who, even in this Case, have maimed themselves in the heat of their Violence upon others?  
THIS Untractable Passion is much more easily kept out, than Governed when it is once Admitted; 
c Anger may be better kept out than Governed.  for the stronger will give Laws to the weaker, and make Reason a slave to the Appetite. It carries us headlong, and in the Course of our Fury, we have no more command of our Minds, than we have of our Bodies down a Precipice; when they are once in Motion, there's no stop till they come to the bottom. Not but that it is Possible for a Man to be warm in Winter; and not to sweat in Summer, either by the Benefit of the Place, or the hardyness of the Body. And, in like manner, we may provide against Anger. But certain it is, that Virtue and Vice can never agree in the same Subject; and one may be as well a Sick Man and a Sound at the same time, as a Good Man, and an Angry. Beside, if we will needs be quarrelsome, it must be either with our Superior, our Equal, or Inferior. To contend with our Superior is Folly, and Madness; with our Equals it is Doubtful, and Dangerous; and with our Inferiors 'tis Base. Nor does any Man know, but that he that is now our Enemy, may come hereafter to be our Friend, over and above the Reputation of Clemency, and Good Nature. And what can be more Honourable, or Comfortable, than to exchange a Feud for a Friendship. The People of Rome never had more Faithful Allies, than those that were at first their most obstinate Enemies: Neither had the Roman Empire ever arrived at that height of Power, if Providence had not mingled the Vanquished with the Conquerors. There's an end of the Contest, when one side deserts it: So that the paying of Anger with Benefits puts a period to the Controversy. But however, if it be our Fortune to Transgress, let not our Anger descend to the Children, Friends, or Relations, even of our bitterest Enemies; the very Cruelty of Sylla was heightened by that Instance of Incapacitating the Issue of the Proscribed. It is Inhuman to entail the hatred we have for the Father, upon his Posterity. A Good, and a Wise Man is not to be an Enemy of Wicked Men, but a Reprover of them, and he is to look upon all the Drunkards, the Lustful, the Thankless, Covetous, and Ambitious that he meets with, no otherwise than as a Physician looks upon his Patients; for he that will be Angry with Any Man, must be displeased with All; which were as ridiculous, as to quarrel with a Body for stumbling in the Dark: with one that's deaf, for not doing as you bid him: Or with a Schoolboy for loving his Play better than his Book. Democritus laughed, and Heraclitus wept at the Folly, and Wickedness of the World, but we never Read of an Angry Philosopher.  
THIS is undoubtedly the detestable of Vices, even compared with the worst of them. 
d Anger the most Detestable of all Vices.  Avarice Scrapes, and gathers together that which some Body may be the better for: but Anger lashes out, and no Man comes off gratis. An Angry Master makes one Servant run away; and another hang himself; and his Choler causes him a much greater loss than he suffered in the Occasion of it. 'Tis the cause of Mourning to the Father, and of Divorce to the Husband: It makes the Magistrate Odious, and gives the Candidate a Repulse. And it is worse than Luxury too, which only aims at its proper pleasure; whereas the other, is bend upon another body's pain. The Malevolent, and the Envious content themselves only to wish another Man Miserable; but 'tis the business of Anger to make him so: and to wreak the Mischief itself, not so much desiring the hurt of another, as to inflict it. Among the Powerful, it breaks out into open War, and into a Private one with the Common People, but without Force, or Arms. It engages us in Treacheries, perpetual Troubles, and Contentions: It altars the very Nature of a Man, and punishes itself in the Persecution of others. Humanity excites us to Love, This to Hatred: That to be beneficial to Others; This to hurt them: Beside, that though it proceeds from too high a Conceit of ourselves, it is yet in effect, but a Narrow, and Contemptible Affection: especially when it meets with a Mind that is hard, and impenetrable; and returns the dart upon the head of him that casts it.  
TO take a further view now of the miserable Consequences, and Sanguinary Effects of this hideous 
e The Miserable Effects of Anger.  distemper; from hence come Slaughters, and Poisons, Wars, and Desolation, the Rasing, and Burning of Cities; the Unpeopling of Nations, and the turning of Populous Countries into Deserts; Public Massacres, and Regicides; Princes led in Triumph; some Murdered in their Bedchambers; others Stabbed in the Senate, or Cut off, in the Security of their Spectacles, and Pleasures. Some there are that take Anger for a Princely Quality; as Darius, who, in his Expedition against the Scythians, being besought by a Nobleman that had Three Sons, that he would vouchsafe to accept of two of them into his Service, and leave the third at home for a Comfort to his Father. I will do more for you than that, says Darius, for you shall have them all three again: So he ordered them to be slain before his Face, and left him their Bodies. But Xerxes dealt a little better with Pythius, who had five Sons, and desired only one of them for himself. Xerxes' bad him take his Choice, and he named the Eldest, whom he immediately Commanded to be Cut in halves; and one half of the Body to be laid on each side of the way where his Army was to pass betwixt them: Undoubtedly a most Auspicious Sacrifice; but he came afterward to the End that he deserved; for he lived to see that Prodigious Power Scattered, and Broken, and, in stead of Military, and Victorious Troops, to be encompassed with Carcases. But these, you'll say, were only Barbarous Princes, that knew neither Civility, nor Letters: And these Savage Cruelties will be imputed perchance to their rudeness of Manners, and want of Discipline. But, what will you say then of Alexander the Great, that was trained up under the Institution of Aristotle himself; and killed Clitus his Favourite and School-fellow with his own hand, under his own Roof, and over the freedom of a Cup of Wine? And what was his Crime? He was loath to degenerate from a Macedonian Liberty into a Persian Slavery: that is to say, he could not Flatter. Lysimachus, another of his Friends, he exposed to a Lion; and this very Lysimachus, after he had scaped this danger, was never the more Merciful, when he came to Reign himself; for he cut off the Ears and Nose of his Friend Telesphorus, and when he had so disfigured him, that he had no longer the Face of a Man, he threw him into a Dungeon, and there kept him to be showed for a Monster, as a strange sight. The place was so low, that he was fain to creep upon all four, and his sides were galled too with the straitness of it. In this Misery he lay, half Famished in his own Filth; so Odious, so Terrible, and so Loathsome a Spectacle, that the horror of his Condition had even extinguished all pity for him. Nothing was ever so unlike a Man, as the poor wretch that suffered this, saving the Tyrant that Acted it.  
NOR did this Mercyless Hardness only exercise it 
f The Cruelty of Marius.  self among Foreigners, but the fierceness of their Outrages, and Punishments, as well as their Vices, broke in upon the Romans. M. Marius, that had his Statue set up every where, and was Adored as a God; L. Sylla commanded his Bones to be broken, his Eyes to be pulled out, his Hands to be cut off; and, as if every Wound had been a several Death, his Body to be torn to Pieces, and Catiline was the Executioner. A Cruelty, that was only fit for Marius to Suffer; Sylla to Command, and Catiline to Act; but most dishonourable, and fatal to the Commonwealth, to fall indifferently upon the Swords Points both of Citizens, and of Enemies.  
IT was a Severe Instance that of Piso 
g A Barbarous Severity of Piso.  too. A Soldier that had leave to go abroad with his Camarade, came back to the Camp at his time, but without his Companion, Piso Condemns him to Die, as if he had killed him, and appoints a Centurion to see the Execution. Just as the Headsman was ready to do his Office, the other Soldier appeared, to the great Joy of the whole Field, and the Centurion bade the Executioner hold his hand; Hereupon, Piso in a rage mounts the Tribunal, and Sentences all Three to Death: the One, because he was Condemned; the Other, because it was for his sake that his fellow Soldier was Condemned; The Centurion, for not obeying the Order of his Superior. An Ingenious piece of Inhumanity, to contrive how to make Three Criminals, where effectually there were none. There was a Persian King that caused the Noses of a whole Nation to be cut off, and they were to thank him that he spared their Heads. And this Perhaps would have been the Fate of the Macrobii (if Providence had not hindered it) for the Freedom they used to Cambyses Ambassadors, in not accepting the slavish terms that were offered them. This put Cambyses into such a rage, that he presently Listed into his Service every Man that was able to bear Arms: and without either Provisions or Guides, Marched immediately through dry, and barren Deserts, and where never any Man had passed before him, to take his Revenge. Before he was a third part of the way, his Provisions failed him; His Men, at first made shift with the Buds of Trees, Boiled Leather, and the like; but soon after, there was not so much as a Root, or a Plant to be gotten, nor a Living Creature to be seen; and then, by Lot, every Tenth Man was to Die, for a nourishment to the rest; which was still worse than the Famine: but yet This Passionate King went on so far, till one part of his Army was lost, and the other devoured, and till he feared that he himself might come to be served with the same sauce. So that at last he ordered a Retreat, wanting no Delicacies all this while for himself, while his Soldiers were taking their Chance who should Die miserably, or Live worse. Here was an Anger taken up against a whole Nation, that neither deserved any ill from him, nor was so much as known to him.   

CHAP. VII. The Ordinary Grounds, and Occasions of Anger.  
IN this wand'ring State of Life, we meet with many Occasions of trouble, and displeasure, both Great, and Trivial; and not a day passes, but from Men, or Things, we have some Cause or other for Offence; as a Man must expect to be justled, dashed, and crowded in a Populous City. One Man deceives our Expectation; Another delays it; and a Third Crosses it; and if every thing does not succeed to our wish, we presently fall out either with the Person, the Business, the Place, our Fortune, or ourselves. Some Men value themselves upon their Wit, and will never forgive any one that pretends to lessen it: Others are Inflamed by Wine; and some are distempered by Sickness, Wearyness, Watchings, Love, Care, etc. Some are prone to it by Heat of Constitution, but Moist, Dry, and Cold Complexions are more liable to other Affections; as Suspicion, Despair, Fear, Jealousy, etc. but most of our Quarrels are of our own Contriving, One while we Suspect upon Mistake; and another while we make a great matter of Trifles. To say the Truth, most of those things that exasperated us, are rather Subject of Disgust, than of Mischief; there's a large difference betwixt Opposing a Man's Satisfaction, and not Assisting it; betwixt Taking away, and not Giving; But we reckon upon Dexying, and Deferring, as the same thing, and interpret another's being for himself, as if he were against us. Nay, we do many times entertain an ill Opinion of Welldoing, and a Good one of the Contrary: And we hate a Man for doing that very thing, which we should hate him for on the other side, if he did not do it. We take it ill to be opposed, when there's a Father Perhaps, a Brother, or a Friend in the Case against us; when we should rather love a Man for it; and only wish that he could be honestly of our Party. We approve of the Fact, and detest the doer of it. It is a base thing to hate the Person whom we cannot but Commend; but it is a great deal worse yet, if we hate him for the very Thing that deserves Commendation. The things that we desire, if they be such as cannot be Given to One, without being Taken away from another, must needs set those people together by the Ears, that desire the same thing. One Man has a design upon my Mistress; another upon mine Inheritance: And that which should make Friends, makes Enemies; our being all of a Mind. The General Cause of Anger, is the Sense, or Opinion of an Injury; that is, the Opinion either of an Injury Simply done, or of an Injury done which we have not deserved. Some are Naturally given to Anger. Others are provoked to't by Occasion; The Anger of Women, and Children is commonly sharp, but not lasting: Old Men are rather querulous, and peevish. Hard Labour, Diseases, Anxiety of Thought, and whatsoever hurts the Body, or the Mind, disposes a Man to be Froward, but we must not add fire to fire.  
HE that duly considers the Subject 
a The Subject of our A●…ger is not worth the while.  matter of all our Controversies, and Quarrels, will find them low, and Mean, and not worth the Thought of a Generous Mind; but the greatest Noise of all is about Mony. This is it, that sets Fathers and Children together by the Ears; Husbands and Wives, and makes way for Sword and Poison: This is it that tires out Courts of Justice; enrages Princes, and lays Cities in the Dust, to seek for Gold, and Silver in the Ruins of them. This is it, that finds work for the Judge, to determine, which side is least in the wrong; and whose is the more plausible Avarice, the Plaintiffs, or the Defendants: And what is it that we contend for all this while, but those Baubles that make us Cry, when we should Laugh? To see a Rich old Chuff, that has no body to leave his Estate to, break his heart for a handful of Dirt; And a Gouty Usurer, that has no other Use of his Fingers left him, but to Count withal; to see him, I say, in the Extremity of his Fit, wrangling for the odd Money in his Interest:— If all that's precious in Nature were gathered into one Mass, it were not worth the trouble of a Sober Mind. It were endless to run over all those ridiculous Passions that ate moved about Meats, and Drinks, and the matter of our Luxury; Nay, about Words, Looks, Actions, Jealousies, Mistakes, which are all of them as contemptible Fooleries as those very Baubles that Children Scratch, and Cry for. There is nothing Great, or Serious in all that which we keep such a Clutter about; the Madness of it is, that we set too Great a Value upon Trifles. One Man flies out upon a Salute, a Letter, a Speech, a Question; a Gesture, a Wink, a Look. An Action moves one Man; A Word Affects another: One Man is tender of his Family; another of his Person; One sets up for an Orator; Another for a Philosopher; This Man will not bear Pride, nor That Man Opposition. He that plays the Tyrant at Home, is as gentle as a Lamb abroad. Some take Offence if a Man asks a Favour of them, and others, if he does not. Every Man has his weak side; let us learn which that is, and take a Care of it, for the same thing does not work upon all Men alike. We are moved like Beasts, at the Idle appearances of things; and the fiercer the Creature, the more is it startled. The sight of a red Cloth enrages a Bull. A Shadow provokes the Asp; Nay, so unreasonable are some Men, that they take Moderate Benefits for Injuries; and Squabble about it, with their nearest Relations. They have done this and that for others, they cry; And they might have dealt better with us if they had pleased. Very Good! And if it be less than we looked for, it may be yet more than we deserve. Of all Unquiet humours, this is the worst, that will never suffer any Man to be happy, so long as he sees a happier Man than himself. I have known some Men so weak, as to think themselves contemned, if a Horse did but play the Jade with Them, that is yet obedient to Another Rider. A Brutal Folly, to be Offended at a Mute Animal; for no Injury can be done us without the Concurrence of Reason. A Beast may hurt us, as a Sword, or a Stone, and no otherwise. Nay, there are, that will complain of foul weather, a raging Sea, a biting winter, as if it were expressly directed to them; and this they charge upon Providence, whose Operations are all of them so far from being Injurious, that they are Beneficial to us.  
HOW Vain, and Idle are many of those 
b We are Angry for Trifles.  things that make us stark Mad! A resty Horse, the overturning of a Glass; the falling of a Key, the Dragging of a Chair, a Jealousy, a Misconstruction. How shall that Man endure the Extremities of Hunger, and Thirst; that flies out into a rage only for the putting of a little too much Water in his Wine? What haste is there to lay a Servant by the heels, or break a Leg, or an Arm immediately for't, as if he were not to have the same power over him an hour after, that he has at that Instant? The Answer of a Servant, a Wife, a Tenant, puts some People out of all Patience; and yet they can quarrel with the Government for not allowing them the same Liberty in Public, which they themselves deny to their own Families. If they say nothing, 'tis Contumacy; if they Speak, or Laugh, 'tis Insolence. As if a Man had his Ears given him only for Music; Whereas we must suffer all sorts of Noises, good and bad, both of Men, and Beasts. How Idle is it to start at the tinkling of a Bell, or the Creaking of a Door, when for all this delicacy, we must endure Thunder? Neither are our Eyes less Curious, and Fantastical than our Ears. When we are abroad, we can bear well enough with foul ways, nasty Streets, Noisome Ditches; but à spot upon a Dish at home, or an unswept Hearth, absolutely distracts us. And what's the Reason, but that we are patient in the One place, and Fantastically peevish in the other. Nothing makes us more Intemperate than Luxury, that shrinks at every stroke, and starts at every shadow. 'Tis Death to some to have another sit above them, as if a Body were ever the more, or the less honest for the Cushion. But they are only weak Creatures that think themselves wounded, if they be but touched. One of the Sibarites, that saw a Fellow hard at work a digging, desired him to give over, for it made him weary to see him: and, it was an ordinary complaint with him, That he could take no Rest, because the Rose-leaves lay double under him. When we are once weakened with our Pleasures, every thing grows Intolerable. And we are Angry as well with those things that cannot hurt us, as with those that do. We tear a Book because 'tis blotted; and our clothes, because they are not well made: Things that neither deserve our Anger, nor feel it: The Tailor perchance did his best, or however, had no Intent to displease us: If so, first, Why should we be Angry at all; secondly, Why should we be angry with the thing for the Man's sake? Nay, our Anger extends even to Dogs, Horses, and other Beasts.  
IT was a Blasphemous, and a Sottish Extravagance that of Caius 
c The Blasphemous Extravagance of Caius Caesar.  Caesar, who challenged jupiter for making such a Noise with his Thunder that he could not hear his Mimiques, and invented a Machine in Imitation of it, to oppose Thunder to Thunder; a brutal conceit, to imagine, either that he could reach the Almighty, or that the Almighty could not reach him.  
AND every jote as ridiculous, though not so Impious, was 
d A Ridiculous Extravagance of Cyrus.  that of Cyrus; who, in his design upon Babylon, found a River in his way that put a stop to his March: The Current was strong, and carried away one of the Horses that belonged to his own Chariot: upon this, he swore, that since it had obstructed his Passage, it should never hinder any Bodies else: And presently set his whole Army to work upon't, which diverted it into a hundred and fourscore Channels, and laid it dry. In this Ignoble, and unprofitable employment, he lost his Time, and the Soldiers their Courage, and gave his Adversaries an opportunity of providing themselves, while he was waging War with a River, in stead of an Enemy.   

CHAP. VIII. Advice in the Cases of Contumely and Revenge.  
OF Provocations to Anger there are two sorts; there is an Injury, and there is a Contumely. The former in its own Nature is the heavier; the other, slight in itself, and only Troublesome to a wounded Imagination. And yet some there are that will bear Blows, and Death itself, rather than Contumelious Words. A Contumely is an Indignity below the Consideration of the very Law; and not worthy either of a Revenge, or so much as a Complaint. It is only the Vexation, and Infirmity of a weak Mind, as well as the Practice of a Haughty and Insolent Nature, and signifies no more to a Wise, and Sober Man, than an Idle Dream, that is no sooner passed than forgotten. 'Tis true, it implies Contempt; But what needs any Man Care for being Contemptible to others, if he be not so to himself? For a Child in the Arms to strike the Mother, tear her Hair, claw the Face of her, and call her Names, That goes for nothing with us, because the Child knows not what it does. Neither are we moved at the Impudence, and Bitterness of a Buffoon; though he fall upon his own Master, as well as the Guests: But, on the Contrary, we encourage, and entertain the Freedom. Are we not Mad then, to be Delighted, and Displeased with the same thing, and to take that as an Injury from one Man, which passes only for a Raillery from another? He that is Wise, will behave himself toward All Men, as we do to our Children: For They are but Children too; though they have Grey hairs; They are indeed of a larger Size, and their Errors are grown up with them; They live without Rule, they Covet without Choice, they are Timorous, and Unsteady, and if at any time they happen to be Quiet, 'tis more out of Fear, than Reason. 'Tis a wretched Condition to stand in awe of every Body's Tongue; and, whosoever is vexed at a Reproach, would be proud if he were Commended. We should look upon Contumelies, Slanders, and Ill Words, only as the Clamour of Enemies, or Arrows shot at a distance, that make a Clattering upon our Arms, but do no Execution. A Man makes himself less than his Adversary, by Phansying that he is Contemned. Things are only Ill, that are Ill Taken; and 'tis not for a Man of worth to think himself better, or worse, for the Opinion of Others. He that thinks himself Injured, let him say, Either I have deserved this, or I have not. If I have, 'tis a judgement; if I have not, 'tis an Injustice; and the doer of it has more reason to be ashamed, than the sufferer. Nature has assigned every Man his Post, which he is bound in honour to maintain, let him be never so much pressed. Diogenes was Disputing of Anger, and an Insolent young Fellow, to try if he could put him beside his Philosophy, spit in his Face; Young Man, says Diogenes, this does not make me Angry yet; but I am in some doubt whether I should be so or no. Some are so Impatient, that they cannot bear a Contumely, even from a Woman; whose very Beauty, Greatness, and Ornaments, are all of them little enough to vindicate her from many Indecencyes, without much Modesty, and Discretion. Nay, they will lay it to heart even from the meanest of Servants. How wretched is that Man whose Peace lies at the Mercy of the People. A Physician is not Angry at the Intemperances' of a Mad Patient, nor does he take it ill to be Railed at by a Man in a Fever: Just so should a Wise Man treat all Mankind, as a Physician does his Patient, and looking upon them only as Sick, and Extravagant; let their Words, and Actions, whether Good, or Bad, to go equally for nothing; attending still his duty even in the Coursest Offices that may conduce to their Recovery. Men that are Proud, Froward, and Powerful, he values their Scorn as little as their Quality; and looks upon them no otherwise, than as people in the Access of a Fever. If a Beggar worships him, or if he takes no Notice of him, 'tis all one to him; and with a Rich Man he makes it the same Case. Their Honours, and their Injuries he accounts much alike; without Rejoicing at the one, or Grieving at the other.  
IN these Cases, the rule is, to pardon all 
a Pardon all, where there's either sign of Repentance, or Hope of Amendment.  Offences, where there is any sign of Repentance, or hope of Amendment. It does not hold in Injuries, as in Benefits, the Requiting of the one with the other. For it is a shame to overcome in the one, and in the other to be overcome. It is the Part of a great Mind to despise Injuries; and it is one kind of Revenge, to neglect a Man, as not worth it: For it makes the first Aggressor too Considerable. Our Philosophy methinks might carry us up to the Bravery of a Generous Mastiff, that can hear the Barking of a thousand Curs, without taking any Notice of them. He that receives an Injury from his Superior, it is not enough for him to bear it with Patience, and with out any thought of Revenge, but he must receive it with a Cheerful Countenance, and look as if he did not understand it too: for if he appear too sensible, he shall be sure to have more on't. 'Tis a Damned humour in Great Men, that whom they wrong, they'll hate. It was well answered of an old Courtier; that was asked, How he kept so long in favour? Why, says he, by receiving Injuries, and crying your humble Servant for them. Some Men take it for an Argument of Greatness, to have Revenge in their power; but so far is he that is under the dominion of Anger, from being Great, that he is not so much as Free. Not but that Anger is a kind of pleasure to some in the Act of Revenge: but the very Word is Inhuman, though it may pass for Honest. Virtue, in short, is impenetrable, and Revenge is only the Confession of an Infirmity.  
IT is a Fantastical Humour, that the same 
b The same conceit makes us Merry in Private, and angry in Public.  Jest in Private, should make us Merry, and yet Enrage us in Public; nay, we will not Allow the Liberty that we take. Some Railleries' we account Pleasant, others Bitter: A conceit upon a Squint Eye, a Bunch-back, or any Personal Defect, passes for a Reproach, And why may we not as well hear it, as see it? Nay, if a Man Imitates our Gate, Speech, or any Natural Imperfection, it puts us out of all Patience, as if the Counterfeit were more Grievous, than the doing of the thing itself. Some cannot endure to hear of their Age, nor others of their Poverty; and they make the thing the more taken Notice of, the more they desire to hide it. Some Bitter Jest (for the purpose) was broken upon you at the Table; keep better Company then. In the Freedom of Cups a sober Man will hardly contain himself within Bounds. It sticks with us extremely sometimes, that the Porter will not let us in to his great Master. Will any but a Madman quarrel with a Cur for barking, when he may pacify him with a Crust? What have we to do▪ but to keep farther off, and Laugh at Him? Fidus Cornelius (a tall, slam Fellow) fell downright a Crying in the Senate-house, at Corbulo's saying, that he looked like an Ostrich. He was a Man that made nothing of a lash upon his Life, and Manners, but it was worse than Death to him, a reflection upon his Person. No Man was ever ridiculous to others, that laughed at himself first: It prevents mischief, and 'tis a Spiteful disappointment of those that take pleasure in such abuses. Vatinius (a Man that was made up for Scorn, and Hatred, Scurrilous, and Impudent to the highest degree, but most abusively witty, and with all this he was Diseased, and Deformed to extremity) his way was always to beg in to make sport with himself, and so he prevented the Mockeries of other People. There are none more abusive to others, than they that lie most open to it themselves; but the humour goes round, and he that laughs at me to day, will have some Body to laugh at him to morrow, and revenge my Quarrel. But however there are some Liberties that will never go down with some Men.  
ASIATICUS VALERIUS (one of Caligula's particular Friends, and a Man of Stomach, that 
c Some jests will never be forgiven.  would not easily digest an Affront) Caligula told him in public, what kind of Bedfellow his Wife was. Good God that ever any Man should hear this, or a Prince speak it, Especially to a Man of Consular Authority, a Friend, and a Husband; and in such a Manner too, as at once to own his Disgust, and his Adultery. The Tribune Chaereas had a weak broken Voice, like an Hermophradite; when he came to Caligul●… for the Word, he would give him sometimes Venus, otherwhiles Priapus; as a Slur upon him both ways. Valerius was afterward the Principal Instrument in the Conspiracy against him; and Chaereas, to convince him of his Manhood, at one blow cleft him down the Chine with his Sword. No Man was so forward as Caligula to Break a Jest, and no Man so Unwilling to Bear it.   

CHAP. IX. Cautions against Anger in the matter of Education, Converse, and other General Means of preventing it, both in ourselves and others.  
ALL that we have to say in particular upon this Subject lies under these two Heads; First, that we do not fall into Anger, and Secondly, that we do not Transgress in't. As in the Case of our Bodies, we have some Medicines to preserve us when we are well, and others to recover us when we are Sick; so it is one thing not to Admit it, and another thing to Overcome it. We are in the first place, to avoid all provocations, and the beginnings of Anger: for, if we be once down, 'tis a hard Task to get up again: When our Passion has got the better of our Reason, and the Enemy is received into the Gate, we cannot expect that the Conqueror should take Conditions from the Prisoner. And, in truth, our Reason, when it is thus mastered, turns effectually into passion. A Careful Education is a great Matter; for our minds are easily formed in our Youth, but 'tis a harder business to cure Ill Habits Beside that, we are inflamed by Climate, Constitution, Company, and a Thousand other Accidents, that we are not aware of.  
THE Choice of a good Nurse, and a well-natured Tutor, goes a great way; for the sweetness both of the Blood, and of the Manners will pass into the Child. There is nothing breeds Anger more than a soft, and Effeminate Education; and 'tis very seldom seen, that either the Mothers, or the Schoolmasters Darling ever comes to good. But, my young Master, when he comes into the World, behaves himself like a Choleric Coxcomb; For Flattery, and a great Fortune nourish Teachiness. But it is a Nice point, so to check the Seeds of Anger in a Child, as not to take off his Edge, and quench his Spirits, whereof a Principal Care must be taken, betwixt Licence, and Severity, that he be neither too much Emboldened, or Depressed. Commendation gives him Courage, and Confidence; but then the danger is, of blowing him up into Insolence, and Wrath: So that when to use the Bit, and when the Spur, is the main difficulty. Never put him to a necessity of Begging any thing basely, or if he does, let him go without it. Enure him to a Familiarity, where he has any Emulation; And in all his Exercises, let him understand, that 'tis generous to overcome his Competitor, but not to hurt him. Allow him to be Pleased when he does well, but not Transported, for that will puff him up into too high a Conceit of himself. Give him nothing that he cries for, till the Dogged Fit is over, but then let him have it when he is quiet; to show him that there is nothing to be gotten by being peevish. Chide him for whatever he does Amiss, and make him betimes acquainted with the Fortune that he was born to. Let his Diet be Cleanly, but Sparing; and Cloth him like the rest of his Fellows; For, by placing him upon that Equality at first, he will be the less proud afterward: and consequently the less waspish, and quarrelsome.  
IN the next place, let us have a Care of Temptations, that we cannot Resist, and Provocations that we cannot Bear; and especially of Sour, and Exceptious Company, For a Cross humour is Contagious. Nor is it all, that a man shall be the better for the example of a quiet Conversation; but an Angry disposition is troublesome, because it has nothing else to work upon. We should therefore Choose a Sincere, Easie, and Temperate Companion, that will neither Provoke Anger, nor Return it; nor give a Man any Occasion of exercising his Distempers. Nor is it enough to be Gentle, Submiss, and Humane, without Integrity, and Plaindealing: For Flattery is as Offensive on the other side. Some Men would take a Curse from you better than a Compliment. Caelius, a passionate Orator, had a Friend of singular Patience that Supped with him; who had no way to avoid a quarrel, but by saying Amen to all that Caelius said. Caelius taking this ill; Say something against me, says he, that you and I may be Two: and he was angry with him because he would not; but the Dispute fell, as it needs must, for want of an Opponent.  
HE that is naturally addicted to Anger, let him use a Moderate Diet, and abstain from Wine; for it is but adding Fire to Fire. Gentle Exercises, Recreations, and Sports, Temper and Sweeten the Mind. Let him have a Care also of Long, and Obstinate Disputes, for 'tis easier not to begin them, than to put an end to them. Severe Studies are not good for him neither; as Law, Mathematics: too much Intention preys upon the Spirits, and makes him Eager. But Poetry, History, and those lighter Entertainments may serve him for Diversion, and Relief. He that would be quiet, must not venture at things out of his reach, or beyond his strength; for he shall either stagger under the burden, or Discharge it upon the next Man he meets; which is the same Case in Civil, and Domestic Affairs. Business that is ready, and practicable, goes off with ease; but when 'tis too heavy for the bearer, they fall Both together. Whatsoever we design, we should first take a measure of ourselves, and compare our Force with the Undertaking, for it vexes a Man not to go through with his Work: a Repulse inflames a Generous Nature, as it makes one that is Phlegmatic, Sad. I have known some that have advised looking in a Glass when a Man is in the Fit, and the very Spectacle of his own deformity has cured him. Many that are troublesome in their Drink, and know their own Infirmity, give their Servants order beforehand, to take them away by force, for fear of Mischief, and not to obey their Masters themselves when they are hotheaded. If the thing were duly considered, we should need no other Cure than the bare Consideration of it. We are not Angry at Madmen, Children, and Fools, because they do not know what they do: And why should not Imprudence have an equal Privilege in other Cases? If a Horse Kick, or a Dog By't, shall a Man Kick, or By't again? The one 'tis true is wholly void of Reason, but it is also an equivalent Darkness of Mind, that possesses the other. So long as we are among Men, let us Cherish Humanity; and so live, that no Man may be either in Fear, or in danger of us. Losses, Injuries, Reproaches, Calumnies, they are but short Inconveniencies, and we should bear them with Resolution. Beside that, some People are above our Anger; others below it. To contend with our Superiors were a Folly; and with our Inferiors an Indignity.  
THERE is hardly a more Effectual Remedy against Anger, than Patience, and Consideration. 
a Patience softens Wrath.  Let but the first fervour abate, and that Mist which darkens the Mind, will be either Lessened, or Dispelled. A Day, nay an hour does much in the most Violent Cases, and perchance totally suppress it: Time discovers the Truth of things, and turns that into Judgement, which at first was Anger. Plato was about to Strike his Servant, and while his hand was in the Air, he checked himself, but still held it in that Menacing Posture. A Friend of his took notice of it, and asked him what he meant. I am now, says Plato, punishing of an Angry Man: So that he had left his Servant to chastise himself. Another time, his Servant having committed a great Fault; Speusippus, says he, do you beat that Fellow, for I am Angry: So that he forbore Striking him for the very Reason that would have made another Man have done it. I am Angry, says he, and shall go farther than becomes me. Nor is it fit that a Servant should be in his Power, that is not his own Master. Why should any one Venture now to trust an Angry Man with a Revenge, when Plato durst not trust himself? Either He must Govern That, or That will undo him. Let us do our best to Overcome it; but let us however Keep it Close, without giving it any Vent. An Angry Man, if he gives himself Liberty at all times, will go too far. If it comes once to show itself in the Eye, or Countenance, it has got the better of us. Nay, we should so oppose it, as to put on the very contrary dispositions: Calm Looks, Soft and Slow Speech; an easy, and deliberate March, and by little and little we may possibly bring our Thoughts into a sober Conformity with our Actions. When Socrates was Angry, he would take himself in't, and Speak Low, in opposition to the Motions of his displeasure. His Friends would take notice of it, and it was not to his disadvantage neither, but rather to his Credit, that so many should know that he was Angry, and no Body feel it: which could never have been, if he had not given his Friends the same Liberty of Admonition which he himself took. And this Course should we take; we should desire our Friends not to flatter us in our Follies, but to treat us with all Liberties of Reprehension, even when we are least willing to bear it, against so powerful, and so insinuating an Evil, we should call for help while we have our Eyes in our head, and are yet Masters of ourselves. Moderation is profitable for Subjects, but more for Princes; who have the means of executing all that their Anger prompts them to. When that power comes once to be exercised to a Common Mischief, it can never long continue, a Common fear joining in one Cause all their divided Complaints. In a Word now how we may Prevent, Moderate, or Master this Impotent Passion in Others.  
IT is not enough to be sound ourselves, unless we 
b Several ways of diverting Anger.  endeavour to make others so, wherein we must accommodate the Remedy to the Temper of the Patient. Some are to be dealt with by Artifice, and Address: As for Example, Why will you gratify your Enemies, to show yourself so much concerned? 'Tis not worth your Anger, 'tis below you; I am as much troubled at it myself▪ as you can be; but you had better say nothing, and take your time to be even with them. Anger, in some People, is to be openly opposed; in others, there must be a little yielding, according to the disposition of the Person. Some are won by Entreaties; others are gained by mere Shame, and Conviction; and some by delay; A dull way of Cure for a Violent Distemper: but this must be the last Experiment. Other Affections may be better dealt with at leisure: For they proceed gradually; but This Commences, and Perfects itself in the same Moment. It does not, like other Passions, Solicit, and Misled us, but it runs away with us by force; and hurries us on with an Irresistible Temerity, as well to our own, as to another's ruin: Not only flying in the Face of him that provokes us, but like a Torrent, bearing down all before it. There's no encountering the first Heat and Fury of it; For it is Deaf, and Mad. The best way is (in the beginning) to give it Time, and Rest, and let it spend itself: while the Passion is too hot to handle, we may deceive it: but however, let all Instruments of Revenge be put out of the way. It is not amiss sometimes to pretend to be angry too; and join with him, not only in the Opinion of the Injury, but in the seeming Contrivance of a Revenge. But this must be a Person then that has some Authority over him. This is a way to get time, and by advising upon some greater punishment, to delay the Present. If the Passion be Outrageous, try what shame or fear can do. If weak, 'tis no hard matter to amuse it by strange Stories, grateful News, or Pleasant Discourses. Deceit, in this Case, is Friendship, for Men must be Cozened to be Cured.  
THE Injuries that press hardest upon us, are those which 
c Those Injuries go nearest us, that we have neither Deserved, nor Expected.  either we have not deserved, or not expected, or at least not in so high a degree. This Arises from the Love of ourselves: For every Man takes upon him Like a Prince in this Case, to practise all Liberties, and to allow none. Which proceeds either from Ignorance, or Insolence. What News is it for People to do ill things? for an Enemy to hurt us; nay, for a Friend, or a Servant to Transgress; And to prove Treacherous, Ungrateful, Covetous, Impious? What we find in one Man, we may in another, and there is no more Security in Fortune, than in Men. Our Joys are mingled with Fears, and a Tempest may rise out of a Calm: but a skilful Pilot is always provided for't.   

CHAP. X. Against Rash judgement.  
IT is good for every Man to fortify himself on his weak side: and if he Loves his Peace, he must not be Inquisitive, and hearken to Tale-bearers; for the Man that is overcurious to hear, and see every thing, multiplies Troubles to himself: For a Man does not feel, what he does not know. He that is listening after private Discourse, and what People say of him, shall never be at Peace. How many things that are Innocent in themselves, are made Injurious yet, by misconstruction? Wherefore some things we are to pause upon, others to laugh at, and others again to pardon. Or if we cannot avoid the Sense of Indignities, let us however shun the open profession of it; which may be easily done, as appears by many Examples of those, that have suppressed their Anger, under the Awe of a greater Fear. It is a good Caution not to believe any thing till we are very certain of it, for many probable things prove false, and a short time will make Evidence of the Undoubted Truth. We are prone to Believe many things which we are unwilling to Hear, and so we conclude, and take up a prejudice, before we can Judge. Never condemn a Friend unheard; or without letting him know his Accuser, or his Crime. 'Tis a Common thing to say, Do not you tell that you had it from me: for if you do, I'll deny it, and never tell you any thing again. By which means, Friends are set together by the Ears, and the Informer slips his Neck out of the Collar. Admit no Stories upon these Terms; For it is an unjust thing to Believe in private, and to be Angry openly. He that delivers himself up to Guests, and Conjecture, runs a great hazard; for there can be no Suspicion without some probable Grounds; so that without much Candour, and Simplicity, and making the best of every thing, there is no living in Society with Mankind. Some things that offend us we have by Report; others we see, or hear. In the first Case, let us not be too Credulous; some People Frame Stories that they may deceive us: Others, only Tell what they Hear, and are deceived Themselves. Some make it their Sport to do ill Offices; others do them only to pick a thank: There are some, that would part the dearest Friends in the World; Others love to do Mischief, and stand aloof off, to see what comes on't. If it be a small matter, I would have Witnesses, but if it be a greater, I would have it upon Oath, and allow Time to the Accused, and Counsel too, and hear it over and over again.  
IN those Cases where we ourselves are Witnesses, we should 
a Make the best of every thing.  take into Consideration all the Circumstances. If a Child, 'twas Ignorance: If a Woman, a Mistake: If done by Command, a Necessity; If a Man be Injured, 'tis but Quid pro quo. If a judge, he Knows what he does: If a Prince, I must Submit; either, if Guilty, to justice, or if Innocent, to Fortune: If a Brute, I make myself one by Imitating it: If a Calamity, or Disease, my best Relief is Patience: If Providence, 'tis both Impious, and Vain to be Angry at it: If a Good Man, I'll make the Best on't; If a Bad, I'll never Wonder at it. Nor is it only by Tales, and Stories, that we are Inflamed, but Suspicions, Countenances; nay, a Look, or a Smile is enough to blow us up. In these Cases, let us suspend our Displeasure, and plead the Cause of the Absent. Perhaps he is Innocent; or if not, I have time to consider on't, and may take my Revenge at Leisure: but when it is once Executed, 'tis not to be Recalled. A Jealous Head is apt to take that to himself which was never meant him. Let us therefore trust to nothing, but what we see: And chide ourselves where we are over-Credulous. By this Course, we shall not be so easily imposed upon; nor put to trouble ourselves about things not worth the while; as the Loitering of a Servant upon an Errand, the Tumbling of a Bed; or the Spilling of a Glass of Drink. 'Tis a Madness to be disordered at these Fooleries. We consider the thing done, and not the Doer of it. It may be he did it Unwillingly; or by Chance. It was a Trick put upon him, or he was forced to't. He did it for Reward perhaps, not Hatred; Nor of his own Accord; but he was egged on to't. Nay, some regard must be had to the Age of the Person, Or to Fortune; and we must consult Humanity, and Candour in the Case. One does me a Great Mischief, at Unawares. Another does me a very small one by Design: Or peradventure none at all, but intended me one. The Latter was more in Fault, but I'll be Angry with neither. We must distinguish betwixt what a Man cannot do, and what he will not. 'Tis true; he has once offended me, but, How often has he pleased me? He has offended me often, and in other kinds, And why should not I bear it as well now as I have done? Is he my Friend? why then 'twas against his will. Is he my Enemy? 'Tis no more than I looked for. Let us give way to Wise Men, and not squabble with Fools; and say thus to ourselves, We have all of us our Errors; No Man is so Circumspect, so Considerate, or so fearful of offending, but he has much to answer for. A Generous Prisoner cannot immediately comply with all the Sordid, and Laborious Offices of a Slave. A Footman that is not breathed, cannot keep pace with his Master's Horse: He that is overwatched, may be allowed to be Drowsy. All these things are to be weighed, before we give any Ear to the first Impulse. If it be my duty to Love my Country, I must be kind also to my Countrymen: If a Veneration be due to the Whole, so is a Piety also to the Parts: And it is the Common Interest to preserve them. We are all Members of one Body, and it is as Natural to help one another, as for the hands to help the feet, or the eyes the hands. Without the Love, and Care of the Parts the Whole can never be preserved, and we must spare one another, because we are born for Society, which cannot be maintained, without a Regard to Particulars. Let This be a Rule to us, never to deny a Pardon that does no hurt either to the Giver, or Receiver. That may be well enough in one, which is Ill in another; and therefore we are not to condemn any thing that is Common to a Nation: for Custom defends it. But much more pardonable are those things which are Common to Mankind.  
IT is a kind of Spiteful Comfort, that 
b Whoever does an Injury, is liable to suffer one.  whoever does me an Injury, may receive one, and that there is a Power over him that is above me. A Man should stand as firm against all Indignities, as a Rock does against the Waves. As it is some satisfaction to a Man in a Mean Condition, that there is no Security in a more prosperous; And as the Loss of a Son in a Corner is born with more Patience, upon the sight of a Funeral carried out of a Palace; So are Injuries, and Contempts, the more tolerable from a meaner Person, when we consider, that the Greatest Men, and Fortunes are not exempt. The wisest also of Mortals have their failings, and no Man Living is without the same Excuse. The difference is, that we do not all of us transgress the same way: but we are obliged in Humanity to bear one with another. We should, every one of us, bethink ourselves how remiss we have been in our Duties; How immodest in our Discourses; how Intemperate in our Cups; and why not as well how Extravagant we have been in our Passions? Let us Clear ourselves of this Evil, purge our minds, and utterly root out all those Vices, which, upon leaving the least string, will grow again, and recover. We must Think of every thing, Expect every thing, that we may not be Surprised. It is a Shame, says Fabius, for a Commander to excuse himself, by saying, I was not aware of it.   

CHAP. XI. Take nothing ill from Another Man, till you have made it your Own Case.  
IT is not prudent to deny a Pardon to any Man, without first examining, if we do not stand in need of it ourselves; for it may be our Lot to ask it, even at his Feet, to whom we refuse it. But we are willing enough to Do, what we are very unwilling to Suffer. It is unreasonable to Charge Public Vices upon Particular Persons: For we are All of us wicked, and that which we blame in others, we find in ourselves. 'Tis not a Paleness in one, or a Leanness in another; but a Pestilence that has laid hold upon All. 'Tis a wicked World, and we make part of it; and the way to be quiet, is to bear one with another. Such a Man, we cry, has done me a shrewd turn, and I never did him any hurt. Well, but it may be I have mischieved other People, or at least I may live to do as much to him as that comes to. Such a one has spoken ill things of me; but if I first spoke ill of him, as I do of many others, this is not an Injury, but a Repayment. What if he did over-shoot himself? he was loath to lose his Conceit, perhaps, but there was no Malice in't; and if he had not done me a Mischief, he must have done himself one. How many Good Offices are there that look like Injuries? Nay, How many have been Reconciled, and good Friends, after a professed hatred?  
BEFORE we lay any thing to heart, let us ask ourselves if we have not done 
c Let no Man condemn another without making it his own Case.  the same things to others. But, where shall we find an equal Judge? He that loves another Man's Wife (only perhaps because she is another's) will not suffer his own to be so much as looked upon. No Man so fierce against Calumny, as the Evil Speaker; None so strict Exacters of Modesty in a Servant, as those that are most Prodigal of their own. We carry our Neighbour's Crimes in sight, and we throw our own over our Shoulders. The Intemperance of a bad Son is chastised by a worse Father; and the Luxury that we punish in others, we allow to ourselves. The Tyrant exclaims against Homicide; and Sacrilege against Theft. We are Angry with the Persons, but not with the Faults.  
SOME things there are that cannot hurt us, and 
d Some things cannot hurt us, and others will not.  others will not; as good Magistrates, Parents, Tutors, Judges; whose Reproof, or Correction we are to take, as we do Abstinence, Bleeding, and other uneasy things, which we are the better for. In which Cases, we are not so much to reckon upon what we suffer, as upon what we have done. I take it ill, says one, and I have done nothing, says another: when at the same time we make it worse, by adding Arrogance, and Contumacy to our first Error. We cry out presently, What Law have we Transgressed? As if the Letter of the Law were the Sum of our Duty; and that Piety, Humanity, Liberality, Justice, and Faith, were things beside our Business. No, no, the Rule of Humane Duty is of a greater Latitude; and we have many Obligations upon us, that are not to be found in the Statute-Books. And yet we fall short of the Exactness, even of That Legal Innocency. We have intended one thing, and done another; wherein only the want of Success has Kept us from being Criminals. This very thing, methinks, should make us more favourable to Delinquents, and to forgive not only ourselves, but the Gods too; of whom we seem to have harder thoughts, in taking that to be a Particular Evil directed to us, that befalls us only by the Common Law of Mortality. In fine, no Man living can Absolve himself to his Conscience, though to the World perhaps he may. 'Tis true, that we are also Condemned to Pains, and Diseases, and to Death too, which is no more than the quitting of a Soul house. But, Why should any Man complain of Bondage, that wheresoever he looks, has his way open to Liberty? That Precipice, that Sea, that River, that Well, there's Freedom in the bottom of it. 
c A Stoical Error.  It hangs upon every Crooked Bow; and not only a Man's Throat, or his Heart, but every vein in his Body opens a Passage to't.  
TO Conclude, where my Proper Virtue fails me, I will have recourse to Examples, and say to myself, Am I greater than Philip, or Augustus, who both of them put up greater Reproaches. Many have pardoned their Enemies, and shall not I forgive a neglect, a little freedom of the Tongue? Nay the Patience but of a Second Thought does the business; for, though the first shock be violent, take it in parts and 'tis subdued. And, to wind up all in one word; The great Lesson of Mandkin, as well in this, as in all other Cases, is to do as he would be done by.   

CHAP. XII. Of Cruelty.  
THERE is so near an Affinity betwixt Anger, and Cruelty, that many People confound them; as if Cruelty were only the Execution of Anger in the Payment of a Revenge: which holds in some Cases, but not in others. There are a sort of Men that take delight in the spilling of Humane blood; and in the Death of those that never did them any Injury, nor were ever so much as suspected for it; As Apollodorus, Phalaris, Sinis, Procrustes, and others, that burned Men alive, whom we cannot so properly call Angry, as Brutal. For, Anger does necessarily presuppose an Injury, either Done, or Conceived, or Feared; but the other takes Pleasure in Tormenting, without so much as pretending any Provocation to't, and kills merely for killing sake. The Original of this Cruelty perhaps was Anger, which by frequent Exercise, and Custom, has lost all sense of Humanity, and Mercy; and they that are thus affected, are so far from the Countenance, and Appearance of Men in Anger, that they will Laugh, Rejoice, and Entertain themselves with the most horrid Spectacles; as Racks, jails, Gibbets, several sorts of Chains, and Punishments; Dilaceration of Members, Stigmatizing, and Wild Beasts; with other exquisite Inventions of Torture: And yet at last the Cruelty itself is more Horrid, and Odious, than the Means by which it works. It is a Bestial madness, to Love Mischief; beside, that 'tis Womanish to Rage and Tear; a Generous Beast will scorn to do't, when he has any thing at his Mercy. It is a Vice for Wolves, and Tigers; and no less Abominable to the World, than Dangerous to itself.  
THE Romans had their Morning, and their Meridian 
a The Cruelty of the Roman Spectacles.  Spectacles. In the Former, they had their Combats of Men with Wild Beasts; and in the Latter, the Men fought One with Another. I went (says our Author) the other day to the Meridian Spectacles, in hope of Meeting somewhat of Mirth, and Diversion, to sweeten the humours of those that had been entertained with Blood in the Morning: But, it proved otherwise; for compared with this Inhumanity, the former was a Mercy. The whole business was only Murder upon Murder; the Combatants fought Naked, and every Blow, was a Wound. They do not contend for Victory, but for Death; and he that kills one Man, is to be killed by another. By Wounds they are forced upon Wounds, which they Take, and Give upon their bare Breasts. Burn that Rogue, they cry; What? Is he afraid of his Flesh? Do but see how sneakingly that Rascal dies? Look to yourselves, my Masters, and consider on't: Who knows but this may come to be your own Case? Wicked Examples seldom fail of Coming home at last to the Authors. To destroy a Single Man, may be Dangerous, but to Murder whole Nations, is only a more Glorious Wickedness. Private Avarice, and Rigour are Condemned: But Oppression, when it comes to be Authorised, by an Act of State; and to be publicly Commanded, though particularly Forbidden, becomes a Point of Dignity, and Honor. What a shame is it for Men to Enterworry one another, when yet the fiercest even of Beasts are at peace with those of their own kind? This Brutal Fury puts Philosophy itself to a stand. The Drunkard, the Glutton, the Covetous, may be reduced. Nay, and the mischief of it is, that no Vice keeps itself within its proper Bounds. Luxury runs into Avarice, and when the Reverence of Virtue is extinguished, Men will stick at nothing that carries profit along with it. Man's Blood is shed in Wantonness; his Death is a Spectacle for Entertainment, and his Groans are Music. When Alexander delivered up Lysimachus to a Lion, how glad would he have been to have had Nails, and Teeth to have devoured him himself? It would have too much derogated, he thought, from the dignity of his Wrath, to have appointed a Man for the Execution of his Friend. Private Cruelties, 'tis true, cannot do much Mischief, but in Princes, they are a War against Mankind.  
C. CAESAR would commonly, for Exercise, 
c Barbarous Cruelties.  and Pleasure, put Senators, and Roman Knights to the Torture: and Whip several of them, like Slaves, or put them to Death with the most accurate Torments, merely for the satisfaction of his Cruelty. That Caesar that wished the People of Rome had but one Neck, that he might cut it off at one Blow. It was the Employment, the Study, and the Joy of his Life. He would not so much as give the Expiring leave to Grone, but caused their Mouths to be stopped with Sponges, or for want of them, with Rags of their own clothes, that they might not breathe out so much as their last Agonies at Liberty; Or perhaps, lest the tormented should speak something which the Tormentor had no mind to hear. Nay, he was so Impatient of Delay, that he would frequently rise from Supper to have Men killed by Torchlight, as if his Life and Death had depended upon their dispatch before the next morning. To say Nothing how many Fathers were put to death by him in the same night with their Sons. (which was a kind of Mercy, in the prevention of their Mourning.) And was not Sylla's Cruelty prodigious too, which was only stopped for want of Enemies? He caused 7000 Citizens of Rome to be slaughtered at once; and some of the Senators being startled at their Cries that were heard into the Senate-house: Let us mind our business, says Sylla, This is nothing but a few Mutineers that I have Ordered to be sent out of the Way. A Glorious Spectacle! says Hannibal! when he saw the Trenches flowing with Humane Blood; and if the Rivers had run Blood too, he would have liked it so much the better.  
AMONG the famous, and detestable Speeches, that are committed to Memory, I know 
d He that Threatens All, Fears all.  none worse than that Impudent, and Tyrannical Maxim; Let them Hate me, so they Fear me: not considering that those that are kept in Obedience by Fear, are both Malicious, and Mercenary, and only wait for an opportunity to change their Master. Beside that, whosoever is Terrible to Others, is likewise afraid of Himself. What is more ordinary, than for a Tyrant to be destroyed by his own Guards, which is no more than the putting of those Crimes into Practice, which they learned of their Masters? How many Slaves have revenged themselves of their Cruel oppressors, though they were sure to die for't? but when it comes once to a Popular Tyranny, whole Nations conspire against it. For, whosoever threatens All, is in danger of All; over and above, that the Cruelty of a Prince increases the number of his Enemies, by destroying some of them; for it entails an hereditary hatred upon the Friends and Relations of those that are taken away. And then it has this Misfortune, that a Man must be wicked upon Necessity; for there's no going back; So that he must betake himself to Arms, and yet he lives in fear. He can neither trust to the Faith of his Friends, nor to the Piety of his Children; he both dreads Death, and wishes it; and becomes a greater Terror to Himself, than he is to his People. Nay, if there were nothing else to make Cruelty detestable, it were enough, that it passes all Bounds both of Custom, and Humanity, and is followed upon the Heel, with Sword, or Poison. A Private Malice indeed does not move whole Cities; but that which extends to All, is every Bodies Mark. One Sick Person gives no great disturbance in a Family; but, when it comes to a Depopulating Plague, all People fly from't. And why should a Prince expect any Man to be good, whom he has taught to be wicked?  
BUT, What if it were Safe to be cruel? Were it not still a sad thing, the very State of such a 
c A Tyrannical Government is a Perpetual State of War.  Government? A Government, that bears the Image of a Taken City, where there's nothing but Sorrow, Trouble, and Confusion. Men dare not so much as trust themselves with their Friends, or with their Pleasures. There is not any Entertainment so Innocent, but it affords pretence of Crime, and Danger. People are betrayed at their Tables, and in their Cups, and drawn from the very Theatre to the Prison. How horrid a Madness is it to be still Raging, and Killing; to have the rattling of Chains always in our Ears; Bloody Spectacles before our Eyes; and to carry Terror, and Dismay, wherever we go? If we had Lions, and Serpents to rule over us, this would be the manner of Their Government; saving that they agree better among themselves; It passes for a Mark of Greatness, to burn Cities, and lay whole Kingdoms waste; nor is it for the honour of a Prince, to appoint This or That single Man to be killed, unless they have whole Troops, or (sometimes) Legions, to work upon. But, it is not the Spoils of War, and Bloody Trophies, that make a Prince Glorious; but, the Divine Power of preserving Unity, and Peace. Ruin, without Distinction is more properly the business of a General Deluge, or a Conflagration. Neither does a Fierce, and Inexorable Anger become the Supreme Magistrate: Greatness of Mind is always Meek, and Humble; but Cruelty is a Note, and an Effect of Weakness; and brings down a Governor to the Level of a Competitor.    

OF Clemency.  
THE Humanity, and Excellence of this Virtue, is confessed at all hands, as well by the Men of Pleasure, and those that think every Man was made for himself, as by the Stoics, that make Man a Sociable Creature, and born for the Common Good of Mankind: For it is, of all Dispositions, the most Peaceable, and Quiet. But before we enter any further upon the Discourse, it would be first known what Clemency is, that we may distinguish it from Pity: which is a Weakness; though many times mistaken for a Virtue: And the next thing will be, to bring the Mind to the Habit, and Exercise of it.  
CLEMENCY is a favourable Disposition of the Mind, in the Matter of inflicting Punishment; Or, 
a Clemency Defined.  A Moderation, that remits somewhat of the Penalty Incurred. As Pardon is the Total Remission of a deserved Punishment. We must be Careful not to confound Clemency with Pity; for as Religion worships God, and Superstition Profanes that worship: so should we distinguish betwixt Clemency, and Pity; Practising the One, and Avoiding the Other. For Pity proceeds from a Narrowness of Mind, that respects rather the Fortune, than the Cause. It is a kind of Moral Sickness, contracted from other People's Misfortunes: Such another weakness as Laughing, or Yawning for Company, or as That of Sick Eyes, that cannot look upon others that are Bleared, without dropping Themselves. I'll give a Shipwrack'd-Man a Plank, a Lodging to a Stranger, or a Piece of Money to him that wants it: I will dry up the Tears of my Friend, yet I will not weep with him, but treat him with Constancy, and Humanity, as one Man ought to treat Another.  
IT is objected by some, that Clemency is an Insignificant Virtue; and that only the Bad are 
a Clemency is Profitable for all.  the Better for't; for the Good have no need on't. But, in the first place; as Physic is in Use only among the Sick, and yet in Honour with the Sound; so the Innocent have a Reverence for Clemency, though Criminals are properly the Object of it. And then again, a Man may be Innocent, and yet have Occasion for it too: for, by the Accidents of Fortune, or the Condition of Times, Virtue itself may come to be in danger. Consider the most Populous City, or Nation; what a solitude would it be, if none should be left there but those that could Stand the Test of a Severe Justice. We should have neither Judges, nor Accusers; none either to Grant a Pardon, or to Ask it. More or less, we are all Sinners, and he that has best purged his Conscience, was brought by Errors to Repentance. And it is farther Profitable to Mankind; for many Delinquents come to be Converted. There is a Tenderness to be used, even toward our Slaves, and those that we have bought with our Money; How much more then, to Free, and to Honest Men, that are rather under our Protection, than Dominion? Not that I would have it so General neither, as not to distinguish betwixt the Good, and the Bad, for that would Introduce a Confusion, and give a kind of encouragement to Wickedness. It must therefore have a respect to the Quality of the Offender, and separate the Curable from the Desperate; for it is an equal Cruelty to pardon All, and to pardon None. Where the Matter is in Balance, let Mercy turn the Scale: If all Wicked Men should be punished, Who should scape?  
THOUGH Mercy, and Gentleness of Nature 
b Clemency does well in Private Persons, but 'tis more Beneficial in Princes.  keeps all in Peace, and Tranquillity, even in a Cottage, yet is it much more Beneficial, and Conspicuous in a Palace. Private Men in their Condition, are likewise Private in their Virtues, and in their Vices; but the Words, and the Actions of Princes, are the Subject of Public Rumour; and therefore They had need have a Care, what Occasion They give People for Discourse, of whom people will be always a Talking. There is the Government of a Prince over his People; a Father over his Children; a Master over his Scholars, an Officer over his Soldiers. He is an Unnatural Father, that for every Trifle beats his Children. Who is the Better Master, he that Rages over his Scholars, for but missing a word in a Lesson; or he that tries by Admonition, and fair Words, to Instruct, and Reform them? An Outrageous Officer makes his Men run from their Colours. A skilful Rider brings his Horse to Obedience, by mingling Fair means with Foul; whereas to be perpetually switching, and spurring, makes him Vicious, and Jadish: And shall we not have more care of Men, than of Beasts? It breaks the Hope of Generous Inclinations, when they are depressed by Servility, and Terror. There is no Creature so hard to be pleased with Ill Usage, as Man.  
CLEMENCY does well with All, but best with 
c Mercy is the Interest both of Prince and People.  Princes, for it makes their Power Comfortable, and Beneficial, which would otherwise be the Pest of Mankind. It establishes their Greatness, when they make the good of the Public, their Particular Care, and Employ their Power for the safety of the People. The Prince, in effect, is but the Soul of the Community, as the Community is only the Body of the Prince: So that in being Merciful to Others, he is Tender of Himself: Nor is any Man so Mean, but his Master feels the Loss of him, as a Part of his Empire. And he takes Care, not only of the Lives of his People, but also of their Reputations. Now, giving for granted, that all Virtues are in themselves Equal, it will not yet be denied, that they may be more Beneficial to Mankind in One Person, than in Another. A Beggar may be as Magnanimous as a King: For, What can be Greater, or Braver, than to baffle Ill Fortune? This does not hinder, but that a Man in Authority, and Plenty, has more Matter for his Generosity to work upon, than a Private Person: And it is also more taken notice of upon the Bench, than upon the Level. When a Gracious Prince shows himself to his People, they do not fly from him as from a Tiger, that had roused himself out of his Den; but they worship him as a Benevolent Influence, they secure him against all Conspiracies, and Interpose their Bodies betwixt Him, and Danger. They Guard him while he sleeps, and defend him in the Field against his Enemies. Nor is it without Reason, this Unanimous Agreement in Love, and Loyalty; and this Heroical Zeal of Abandoning themselves for the safety of their Prince, but it is as well the Interest of the People. In the Breath of a Prince there's Life, and Death: and his Sentence stands good, Right or Wrong. If he be Angry, no body dares Advise him; and if he does Amiss, who shall call him to Account? Now, for him that has so much Mischief in his Power, and yet applies That Power to the Common Utility, and Comfort of his People, diffusing also Clemency, and Goodness into Their hearts too; What can be a greater Blessing to Mankind than such a Prince? Any Man may kill another Against the Law, but only a Prince can save him so. Let him so deal with his own Subjects, as he desires God should deal with him: If Heaven should be Inexorable to Sinners, and destroy All without Mercy, What Flesh could be safe? But, as the Faults of Great Men are not presently punished with Thunder from Above, let them have a like regard to their Inferiors here upon Earth. He that has Revenge in his Power, and does not Use it, is the Great Man: Which is the more Beautiful, and Agreeable State, that of a Calm, a Temperate, and a Clear day; or That of Lightning, Thunder, and Tempests? And this is the very difference betwixt a Moderate, and a Turbulent Government. 'Tis for Low, and Vulgar Spirits, to Brawl, Storm, and Transport themselves; but 'tis not for the Majesty of a Prince to lash out into Intemperance of Words: Some will think it rather Slavery, than Empire, to be debarred Liberty of Speech: And what if it be when Government itself is but a more Illustrious Servitude? He that uses his Power as he should, takes as much Delight in making it Comfortable to his People, as Glorious to himself. He is Affable, and easy of Access; his very Countenance makes him the Joy of his People's Eyes, and the Delight of Mankind. He is Beloved, Defended, and Reverenced, by all his Subjects; and Men speak as well of him in Private, as in Public: He is safe without Guards, and the Sword is rather his Ornament, than his Defence; In his Duty, he is like that of a good Father, that sometimes gently Reproves a Son; sometimes Threatens him; nay, and perhaps Corrects him: But no Father, in his right Wits, will Disinherit a Son for the First Fault: There must be Many, and Great Offences, and only Desperate Consequences that should bring him to that Decretory Resolution: He will make many Experiments, to try if he can Reclaim him first, and nothing but the utmost Despair must put him upon Extremities. It is not Flattery that calls a Prince the Father of his Country: The Titles of Great, and August, are Matter of Compliment, and of Honour; but, in calling him Father, we mind him of that Moderation, and Indulgence, which he owes to his Children: His Subjects are his Members. Where, if there must be an Amputation, let him come slowly to it, and when the Part is cut off, let him wish it were on again; let him Grieve in the doing of it: He that passes a Sentence presently, looks as if he did it willingly; and then there is an Injustice in the Excess.  
IT is a Glorious Contemplation, for a 
d The blessed Reflections of a Merciful Prince.  Prince, first to consider the vast Multitudes of his People, whose Seditious, Divided, and Impotent Passions would cast All into Confusion, and destroy Themselves, and Public Order too, if the Band of Government did not restrain them: And Thence to pass to the Examination of his Conscience, saying Thus to himself. It is by the Choice of Providence that I am here made God's Deputy upon Earth; the Arbitrator of Life, and Death, and that upon My breath, depends the Fortune of my People. My Lips are the Oracles of their Fate, and upon Them, hangs the Destiny both of Cities, and of Men. It is under my Favour that People seek for either Prosperity, or Protection; Thousands of Swords are Drawn, or Sheathed at my Pleasure. What Towns shall be Advanced, or Destroyed; who shall be Slaves, or who Free, depends upon my Will; and yet in this Arbitrary Power of Acting without Control, I was never Transported to do any Cruel Thing, either by Anger, or Hot Blood, in myself, or by the Contumacy, Rashness, or Provocations of other Men; though sufficient to turn Mercy itself into Fury. I was never moved by the Odious vanity of making myself Terrible by my Power (that Accursed (though Common) Humour of Ostentation, and Glory, that haunts Imperious Natures.) My Sword has not only been buried in the Scabbard, but in a manner Bound to the Peace, and Tender even of the Cheapest Blood: And where I find no other Motive to Compassion, Humanity itself is Sufficient. I have been always Slow to Severity, and Prone to Forgive, and under as Strict a Guard to Observe the Laws, as if I were Accountable for the Breaking of them. Some I pardoned for their Youth; Others, for their Age. I spare one Man for his Dignity; Another for his Humility; and when I find no other matter to work upon, I spare myself. So that if God should at this Instant call me to an Account, the whole World would agree to witness for me, that I have not by any Force, either Public or Private; either by myself, or by any Other, defrauded the Commonwealth: and the Reputation that I have ever sought for, has been That which few Princes have Obtained, the Conscience of my Proper Innocence. And I have not lost my labour neither, for no one Man was ever so Dear to another, as I have made myself to the whole Body of my People. Under such a Prince the Subject has nothing to wish for, beyond what he enjoys; their Fears are Quieted, and their Prayers heard, and there is nothing can make their Felicity Greater, unless to make it perpetual; and there is no Liberty denied to the People, but that of Destroying one another.  
IT is the Interest of the People, by the 
e Upon the well-being of the Prince, depends the Safety of the People.  Consent of all Nations, to run all hazards for the Safety of their Prince, and by a Thousand Deaths to redeem that one Life, upon which so many Millions depend. Does not the whole Body serve the Mind, though only the One is exposed to the Eye, and the Other not, but, Thin, and Invisible, the very seat of it being Uncertain? Yet the Hands, Feet, and Eyes, observe the Motions of it: we Lie down, Run about, and Ramble, as That Commands us. If we be Covetous, we Fish the Seas, and Ransack the Earth for Treasure; If Ambitious, we burn our own Flesh with Scaevola; we cast ourselves into the Gulf with Curtius: So would that vast Multitude of People, which is Animated but with One Soul, Governed by One Spirit, and Moved by One Reason, destroy itself with its own Strength, if it were not supported by Wisdom, and Government. Wherefore, it is for their Own Security, that the People expose their Lives for their Prince, as the very Bond that ties the Republic together; the Vital Spirit of so many Thousands, which would be nothing else but a Burden, and a Prey, without a Governor. When this Union comes once to be Dissolved, All falls to Pieces; for Empire, and Obedience, must Stand, and Fall together. It is no wonder then, if a Prince be Dear to his People, when the Community is wrapped up in him, and the Good of Both as Inseparable as the Body, and the Head; the One for Strength, and the othet Counsel; for, What signifies the Force of the Body, without the Direction of the Understanding? While the Prince watches, his People Sleep; his Labour Keeps Them at Ease, and his Business keeps them at Quiet. The Natural Intent of Monarchy appears even from the very Discipline of Bees; They assign to their Master the fairest Lodgings, the Safest Place, and His Office is only to see, that the Rest perform their Duties. When the King is Lost, the whole Swarm Dissolves: More than One, they will not Admit; and then they contend who shall have the Best: They are, of all Creatures, the Fiercest, for their Bigness; and leave their Stings behind them in their Quarrels; Only the King himself has None, Intimating, that Kings should neither be Vindictive, nor Cruel. Is it not a Shame, after such an Example of Moderation in these Creatures, that Men should be yet Intemperate? It were well if they lost their Stings too in their Revenge, as well as the Other, that they might hurt but Once, and do no Mischief by their Proxies. It would tyre them out, if either they were to execute All with their Own hands, or to wound Others, at the Peril of their Own Lives.  
A Prince should behave himself Generously 
The Prince that is Gracious, is Beloved.  in the Power, which God has given him, of Life and Death; especially toward those that have been at any time his Equals; for the One has his Revenge, and the other his Punishment in't. He that stands Indebted for his Life, has lost it; but he that Receives his Life at the Foot of his Enemy, Lives to the Honour of his Preserver: He Lives the Lasting Monument of his Virtue; whereas if he had been led in Triumph, the Spectacle would have been quickly over. Or what if he should restore him to his Kingdom again? Would it not be an Ample Accession to his Honour, to show that he found nothing about the Conquered that was worthy of the Conqueror? There's nothing more Venerable than a Prince that does not Revenge an Injury. He that is Gracious, is Beloved, and Reverenced as a Common Father, but a Tyrant stands in Fear, and in Danger even of his Own Guards. No Prince can be safe himself, of whom all Others are Afraid; for to spare None, is to enrage All. 'Tis an Error to imagine, that any Man can be secure, that suffers no body else to be so too. How can any Man endure to lead an Uneasy, Suspicious, Anxious Life, when he may be Safe, if he Pleases, and enjoy all the Blessings of Power, together with the Prayers of his People? Clemency Protects a Prince without a Guard; there's no need of Troops, Castles, or Fortifications: Security, on the One side, is the Condition of Security on the Other; and the Affections of the Subject are the most Invincible Fortress. What can be Fairer, than for a Prince to Live the Object of his People's Love, to have the Vows of their Hearts, as well as of their Lips; and his Health, and Sickness, their Common Hopes, and Fears? There will be no Danger of Plots: Nay, on the Contrary, Who would not frankly venture his Blood, to serve Him, under whose Government, Justice, Peace, Modesty, and Dignity Flourish? Under whose Influence Men grow Rich, and Happy; and whom Men look upon with such Veneration, as they would do upon the Immortal Gods, if they were Capable of seeing them: And, as the True Representative of the Almighty, they consider him, when he is Gracious, and Bountiful, and employs his Power to the Advantage of his Subjects.  
WHEN a Prince proceeds to Punishment, 
f Where Punishment is Necessary; let it be Moderate.  it must be either to Vindicate Himself, or Others. It is a hard matter to Govern Himself in his Own Case. If a Man should Advise him not to be Credulous, but to examine Matters, and Indulge the Innocent, this is rather a point of Justice than of Clemency: But, in Case that he be Manifestly Injured, I would have him Forgive, where he may Safely do it, and be Tender, even where he cannot Forgive: But, far more Exorable in his Own Case however, than in Another's. 'Tis nothing to be free of Another Man's Purse; and 'tis as Little to be Merciful in Another Man's Cause. He is the Great Man that Masters his Passion where he is stung himself; and Pardons, when he might Destroy. The end of Punishment, is either to Comfort the Party Injured, or to Secure him for the Future. A Prince's Fortune is above the need of such a Comfort, and his Power is too Eminent to seek an Advance of Reputation, by doing a Private Man a Mischief. This I speak, in Case of an Affront from those that are Below us: But he, that of an Equal, has made any Man his Inferior, has his Revenge, in the bringing of him Down. A Prince has been killed by a Servant, destroyed by a Serpent; but whosoever preserves a Man, must be Greater than the Person that he preserves. With Citizens, Strangers, and People of Low Condition, a Prince is not to Contend, for they are Beneath him: He may spare some, out of Good Will, and Others, as he would do some little Creatures that a Man cannot touch without fouling his Fingers: But for those that are to be Pardoned, or exposed to Public Punishment, he may use Mercy as he sees Occasion; and a Generous Mind can never want Inducements, or Motives to it: And whether it be Age, or Sex; High, or Low, Nothing comes amiss.  
TO pass now to the Vindication of Others, there must be had a 
g The Ends of Punishment.  regard, either to the Amendment of the Person Punished, or the making of Others better, for fear of Punishment; or the taking the Offender out of the way for the security of Others. An Amendment may be procured by a Small Punishment; for he lives more Carefully that has something yet to Lose; It is a kind of Impunity, to be Incapable of a further Punishment. The Corruptions of a City are best Cured by Few, and Sparing Severities; for the Multitude of Offenders creates a Custom of Offending, and Company Authorises a Crime, and there is more good to be done upon a Dissolute Age, by Patience, than by Rigour: Provided that it pass not for an Approbation of Ill Manners; but only as an Unwillingness to proceed to Extremities. Under a Merciful Prince a Man will be ashamed to offend, because a Punishment that is inflicted by a Gentle Governor, seems to fall heavier and with more Reproach: And it is Remarkable also, that Those Sins are Often Committed, which are very often Punished. Caligula, in five years, Condemned more people to the Sack, than ever were before him; and there were fewer Parricides Before That Law against them, than After. For our Ancestors did wisely presume, that the Crime would never be Committed, till by a Law for Punishing it, they found, that it might be done. Parricides began with the Law against them, and the Punishment instructed Men in the Crime. Where there are few Punishments, Innocency is indulged as a Public Good, and it is a dangerous thing to show a City how strong it is in Delinquents. There is a certain Contumacy in the Nature of Man, that makes him Oppose Difficulties. We are better to Fellow, than to Drive; as a Generous Horse rides best with an Easie Bit. People Obey willingly, where they are Commanded kindly. When Burrhus the Perfect was to Sentence Two Malefactors, he brought the Warrant to Nero to sign: who, after a long Reluctancy, came to't at last with this Exclamation, I would I could not Write. A Speech that deserved the whole World for an Auditory, but all Princes especially; and that the hearts of all the Subjects would conform to the Likeness of their Masters. As the Head is Well, or Ill, so is the Mind Dull, or Merry. What's the Difference betwixt a King, and a Tyrant, but a Diversity of Will, under one, and the same Power: the One Destroys for his Pleasure, the Other upon Necessity: A Distinction rather in Fact, than in Name. A Gracious Prince is Armed as well as a Tyrant; but 'tis for the Defence of his People, and not for the Ruin of them. No King can ever have Faithful Servants, that accustomes them to Tortures, and Executions: The very Guilty themselves do not lead so Anxious a Life as the Persecuters, for they are not only afraid of Justice, both Divine, and Humane, but it is Dangerous for them to mend their Manners; so that when they are once in, they must continue to be Wicked, upon Necessity. An Universal Hatred unites in a Popular Rage: A Temperate Fear may be kept in Order, but when it comes once to be Continual, and Sharp, it provokes people to Extremities, and Transports them to Desperate Resolutions; as Wild Beasts, when they are pressed upon the Toil, turn back, and Assault the very Pursuers. A Turbulent Government is a Perpetual trouble both to Prince, and People; and he that is a Terror to all Others, is not without Terror also himself. Frequent Punishments, and Revenges may Suppress the Hatred of a Few, but than it stirs up the Detestation of All. So that there's no destroying One Enemy, without making Many. It is good to Master the Will of being Cruel, even while there may be Cause for it, and Matter to Work upon.  
AUGUSTUS was a Gracious 
h A famous Instance of Augustus' Clemency.  Prince, when he had the Power in his own hand; but in the Triumviracy he made use of his Sword, and had his Friends ready Armed to set upon Anthony, during That Dispute. But he behaved himself afterwards at another rate; for when he was betwixt forty and fifty years of Age, he was told, that Cinna was of a Plot to Murder him, with the Time, Place, and Manner of the Design; and This from one of the Confederates. Upon This, he resolved upon a Revenge, and sent for several of his Friends to Advise upon't. The thought of it kept him waking, to consider, that there was the Life of a young Nobleman in the Case, the Nephew of Pompey, and a Person, otherwise Innocent. He was off and on several times, whether he should put him to Death, or not. What (says he) shall I live in Trouble, and in danger myself, and the Contriver of my Death walk Free, and Secure? Will nothing serve him but That Life, which Providence has preserved in so many Civil Wars; in so many Battles, both by Sea and Land; and Now, in the State of an Universal Peace too? and not a simple Murder neither, but a Sacrifice; for I am to be assaulted at the very Altar; And shall the Contriver of all this Villainy scape Unpunished? Here Augustus made a little Pause, and then recollecting himself: No, no (Caesar, says he) 'tis rather Caesar, than Cinna, that I'm to be Angry with: Why do I myself live any longer, after that my Death is become the Interest of so many People? And if I go on, what end will there be of Blood, and of Punishment? If it be against My Life that the Nobility Arms itself, and levels their Weapons, my Single Life is not worth the while, if so Many must be destroyed, that I may be preserved, His Wife ●…ivia gave him here an Interruption, and desired him, that he would for once hear a Woman's Counsel. Do (says she) like a Physician, that when common Remedies fail, will try the Contrary; You have got nothing Hitherto by Severity: After Salvidiaenus there followed Lepidus; after Him, Muraena; Caepio followed him, and Egnatius followed Caepio: Try now what Mercy will do; Forgive Cinna. He is Discovered, and can do you no hurt in your Person; and it will yet Advantage you in your Reputation. Augustus was glad of the Advice, and he gave Thanks for't, and thereupon Countermanded the Meeting of his Friends, and ordered Cinna to be brought to him Alone; for whom he caused a Chair to be set, and then discharged the rest of the Company. Cinna (says Augustus) before I go any further, you must promise not to give me the Interruption of one Syllable till I have told you all I have to say, and you shall have Liberty afterward to say what you please: You cannot forget, that when I found you in Arms against me, and not only Made my Enemy, but Born so, I gave you your Life and Fortune. Upon your Petition for the Priesthood, I granted it with a Repulse to the Sons of those that had been my Fellow Soldiers; and you are at this day so Happy, and so Rich, that even the Conquerors envy him that is Overcome; and yet after all This, you are in a Plot, Cinna, to Murder me. At that word, Cinna started, and interposed with Exclamations, That certainly he was far from being either so Wicked, or so Mad. This is breach of Conditions, Cinna, (says Augustus) 'tis not your time to speak yet. I tell you again, that you are in a Plot to Murder me; and so he told him the Time, the Place, the Confederates, the Order, and Manner of the Design, and who it was that was to do the Deed. Cinna, upon This, fixed his eye upon the Ground, without any Reply; not for his wordsake, but as in a Confusion of Conscience; and so Augustus went on. What (says he) may your Design be in all this? Is it that you would pretend to step into my Place? The Commonwealth were in an Ill Condition, if only Augustus were in the way betwixt you and the Government. You were cast the Other day in a Cause, by one of your own Freemen; and do you expect to find a weaker Adversary of Caesar? But, What if I were Removed? There's Aemilius Paulus, Fabius Maximus, and Twenty other Families of great Blood, and Interest, that would never bear it? To cut off the Story short; (for it was a Discourse of above two Hours; and Augustus lengthened the Punishment in Words, since he intended That should be all) Well, Cinna, says he, the Life that I gave to you once, as an Enemy, I will now repeat it to a Traitor, and to a Parricide, and this shall be the last Reproach I'll give you. For the time to come, there shall be no other Contention betwixt You and Me, than which shall outdo the other in Point of Friendship. After This, Augustus made Cinna, Consul, (an Honour, which he confessed, he durst not so much as Desire) and Cinna was ever affectionately Faithful to him, he made Caesar his Sole Heir, and this was the Last Conspiracy that ever was formed against him.  
THIS Moderation in Augustus, was the 
i Augustus' Moderation to his Enemies.  Excellency of his Mature Age; for in his Youth, he was Passionate, and Sudden; and he did many things, which afterward he looked back upon with Trouble: After the Battle of Actium, so many Navies broken in Sicily, both Roman, and Strangers; the Perusian Altars; (where 300 Lives were Sacrificed to the Ghost of julius) his frequent Proscriptions, and other Severities; his Temperance at last seemed to be little more than a Weary Cruelty. If he had not Forgiven those that he Conquered, Whom should he have Governed? He chose his very Lifeguard from among his Enemies, and the Flower of the Romans owed their Lives to his Clemency. Nay, he only punished Lepidus himself with Banishment, and permitted him to wear the Ensigns of his Dignity without taking the Pontificate to himself, so long as Lepidus was Living; for he would not possess it as a Spoil, but as an Honor. This Clemency it was, that Secured him in his Greatness, and Ingratiated him to the people, though he laid his hand upon the Government before they had thoroughly submitted to the Yoke; and This Clemency it was, that has made his Name Famous to Posterity. This is it, that makes us Reckon him Divine, without the Authority of an Apotheosis, He was so Tender, and Patient, that though many a bitter Jest was broken upon him (and Contumelies upon Princes, are the most Intolerable of all Injuries) yet he never punished any Man upon That Subject. It is Then Generous to be Merciful, when we have it in our Power to take Revenge.  
A Son of Titus Arius being Examined, and found 
k A Merciful judgement of Augustus.  Guilty of Parricide, was Banished Rome, and Confined to Marseilles, where his Father allowed him the same Annuity that he had before; which made all people conclude him Guilty, when they saw that his Father had yet Condemned the Son, that he could not Hate. Augustus was pleased to Sat upon the Fact in the House of Arius, only as a Single Member of the Council, that was to Examine it: If it had been in Caesar's Palace, the judgement must have been Caesars, and not the Fathers. Upon a full hearing of the Matter, Caesar directed, that every Man should write his Opinion, whether Guilty, or Not, and without declaring of his Own, for fear of a Partial Vote. Before the Opening of the Books, Caesar passed an Oath, that he would not be Arius his Heir: and, to show, that he had no Interest in his Sentence, as appeared afterward, for he was not Condemned to the Ordinary Punishment of Parricides, nor to a Prison, but, by the Mediation of Caesar, only Banished Rome, and confined to the Place which his Father should Name: Augustus insisting upon it, that the Father should content himself with an Easy Punishment, and Arguing, that the young Man was not moved to the Attempt by Malice, and that he was but half resolved upon the Fact, for he wavered in it, and therefore to remove him from the City, and from his Father's sight, would be sufficient. This is a Glorious Mercy, and worthy of a Prince, to make all things Gentler wherever he comes. How Miserable is that Man in Himself, who when he has employed his Power in Rapines, and Cruelty upon Others, is yet more Unhappy in himself? He stands in Fear both of his Domestics, and of Strangers, the Faith of his Friends, and the Piety of his Children, and flies to Actual Violence to secure him from the Violence he Fears. When he comes to look about him, and to consider what he Has done, what he Must, and what he is About to do; what with the Wickedness, and with the Torments of his Conscience, many times he Fears Death, Oftener he wishes for't, and lives more Odious to himself, than to his Subjects: whereas, on the Contrary, he that takes a Care of the Public, though of One Part more perhaps than of Another, yet there is not Any Part of it, but he looks upon as Part of Himself. His Mind is Tender, and Gentle, and even where Punishment is Necessary, and Profitable, he comes to it Unwillingly, and without any Rancour, or Enmity in his heart. Let the Authority, in fine be what it will, Clemency becomes it, and the Greater the Power, the greater is the Glory of it. It is a truly Royal Virtue, for a Prince to deliver his People from Other men's Anger, and not to Oppress them with his Own.   
The End.  

SENECA'S MORALS. The Third, and Last Part. Digested into XXVIII EPISTLES, By ROGER L'ESTRANGE.  
LONDON: Printed by Tho. Newcomb for Henry Brome, at the Gun in St Paul's Churchyard. MDCLXXVIII.   

THE Contents.  
Epist. I. 
CErtain General Directions for the Government of the Voice; as in speaking Soft, or Loud; Quick, or Slow. The Speech is the Index of the Mind. Pag. 1.  Epist. II. 
Of Stiles, Compositions, and the Choice of Words. That's the Best way of Writing, and Speaking, which is Free, and Natural. Advice concerning Reading. p. 6.  Epist. III. 
Against all sorts of Affectation in Discourse. Fantastical Studies; Impertinent, and Unprofitable Subtleties. Man's Business is Virtue, not Words. p. 16.  Epist. IU. 
Business, and want of News, are no Excuse among Friends, for not Writing. Wise Men are the better for one another. How far Wisdom may be advanced by Precept. p. 26.  Epist. V. 
Seneca gives an Account of Himself, his Studies, and of his Inclinations: With many Excellent Reflections upon the Duties, and the Errors of Humane Life. p. 37.  Epist. VI 
The Blessings of a Virtuous Retirement. How we come to the Knowledge of Virtue. A Distinction betwixt Good and Honest. A Wise Man Contents himself with his Lot. p. 49.  Epist. VII. 
Of Impertinent Studies, and Impertinent Men. Philosophers, the Best Companions. p. 60.  Epist. VIII. 
Against Singularity of Manners, and Behaviour. p. 67.  Epist. IX. 
The Blessings of a Vigorous Mind in a Decayed Body; With some Pertinent Reflections of Seneca, upon his Own Age. p. 72.  Epist. X. 
Custom is a Great Matter, either in Good or iii. We should check our Passions Betimes. Involuntary Motions are Invincible. p. 78.  Epist. XI. 
We are Divided in ourselves; and Confound Good, and Evil. p. 84.  Epist. XII. 
We are moved at the Novelty of things, for want of Understanding the Reason of them. p. 92.  Epist. XIII. 
Every Man is the Artisicer of his Own Fortune. Of Justice, and Injustice. p. 97.  Epist. XIV. 
Of Trust in Friendship. Prayer; and Bodily Exercise. p. 102.  Epist. XV. 
The Danger of Flattery; and in what Cases a Man may be allowed to Commend Himself. p. 108.  Epist. XVI. 
A General Dissolution of Manners: With a Censure of Corrupt Magistrates. p. 114.  Epist. XVII. 
The Original of All Men is the Same; And Virtue is the Only Nobility. There is a Tenderness due to Servants. p. 121.  Epist. XVIII. 
We are Juster to Men, than to God. Of Life, and Death; Of Good, and Evil. p. 127.  Epist. XIX. 
Of True Courage. p. 137.  Epist. XX. 
'Tis Never too Late to Learn. The Advantages of a Private Life; and the Slavery of a Public. The Ends of Punishment. p. 143.  Epist. XXI. 
The Two Blessings of Life are, a Sound Body; and a Quiet Mind. The Extravagance of the Roman Luxury. The Moderation, and Simplicity of Former Times. p. 152.  Epist. XXII. 
Man is Compounded of Soul, and Body: And has Naturally a Civil War within Himself. The Difference betwixt a Life of Virtue, and a Life of Pleasure. p. 161.  Epist. XXIII. 
We abuse Gods Blessings, and turn them into Mischiefs. Meditations upon the Horrors of Earthquakes, and Consolations against them. Death is the same thing, which way soever it comes: Only we are more moved by Accidents that we are not used to. p. 167.  Epist. XXIV. 
A Discourse of God's Providence, in the Misfortunes of Good Men in this World, and in the Prosperity of the Wicked. p. 178.  Epist. XXV. 
A Wise, and a Good Man is Proof against all Accidents. Of Fate. p. 189.  Epist. XXVI. 
All things are Produced out of Cause, and Matter. Of Providence. A Brave Man is a Match for Fortune. p. 197.  Epist. XXVII. 
Some Traditions of the Ancients concerning Thunder, and Lightning; with the Author's Contemplations Thereupon. p. 204.  Epist. XXVIII. 
A Contemplation of Heaven, and Heavenly Things. Of God, and of the Soul. p. 211.    
Epistles.  

EPIST. I. Certain General Directions for the Government of the Voice; as in speaking Soft, or Loud; Quick, or Slow. The Speech is the Index of the Mind.  
YOu say well, that in Speaking, the very Ordering of the Voice, (to say nothing of the Actions, Countenances, and other Circumstances that accompany it) is a Consideration worthy of a Wise Man. There are, that prescribe Certain Modes of Rising, and Falling; Nay, if you will be governed by Them, you shall not speak a word, move a step, or eat a Bit, but by a Rule: And these perhaps are too Critical. Do not understand me yet, as if I made no Difference betwixt entering upon a Discourse Loud, or Soft; for the Affections do Naturally Rise by Degrees; and, in all Disputes, or Plead, whether Public, or Private, a Man should properly Begin with Modesty, and Temper, and so Advance by little and little, if need be, into Clamour, and Vociferation. And as the Voice Rises by Degrees, let it fall so too; not Snapping off upon a sudden, but Abating, as upon Moderation: The other is Unmannerly, and Rude. He that has a Precipitate speech, is commonly violent in his Manners: Beside that, there is in it much of Vanity, and Emptyness; and no Man takes satisfaction in a Flux of Words, without Choice; where the Noise is more than the Value. Fabian was a Man Eminent, both for his Life, and Learning; and no less for his Eloquence. His Speech was rather Easie, and Sliding, than Quick: Which he accounted to be, not only Liable to many Errors, but to a Suspicion of Immodesty. Nay, let a Man have Words never so much at Will, he will no more speak Fast, than he will Run, for fear his Tongue should go before his Wit. The Speech of a Philosopher should be like his Life, Composed, without Pressing, or Stumbling; which is fitter for a Mountebank, than a Man of Sobriety, and Business: and then to drop one word after another, is as bad on the other side. The Interruption is Tedious, and tires out the Auditor with Expectation. Truth, and Morality, should be delivered in Words Plain, and without Affectation; for, like Remedies, unless they stay with us; we are never the better for them. He that would work upon his Hearers, must no more expect to do it upon the Post, than a Physician to Cure his Patients, only in passing by them. Not but that I would have a Wise Man, in some Cases, to Raise himself, and mend his Pace; but still with a regard to the Dignity of his Manners; though there may be a great force also in Moderation. I would have his Discourse smooth, and Flowing, like a River; not Impetuous, like a Torrent. There is a Rapid, Lawless, and Irrevocable Velocity of Speech, which I would scarce allow, even to an Orator; for if he be transported with Passion, or Ostentation, a Man's Attention can hardly keep him Company. It is not the Quantity, but the Pertinence, that does the business. Let the words of an Ancient Man flow Soft, and Gentle; let those of an Orator come off Round, and Powerful; but not run on without Fear, or Wit, as if a whole Declamation were to be but one Period. Cicero wrote with Care, and that which will for ever stand the Test. All Public Languages are according to the Humour of the Age: A Wantonness, and Effeminacy of Speech denotes Luxury; for the Wit follows the Mind: If the Latter be Sound, Composed, Temperate, and Grave, the Wit is Dry, and Sober too: but if the One be Corrupted, the other is likewise unsound. Do we not see when a Man's Mind is heavy, how he Creeps, and Draws his Legs After him? A Finical Temper is read in the very Gesture, and clothes; if a Man be Choleric, and Violent, it is also discovered in his Motions. An Angry Man speaks Short, and Quick; the Speech of an Effeminate Man is Loose, and Melting. A Quaint, and Solicitous way of speaking, is the sign of a Weak Mind; but a Great Man speaks with Ease, and Freedom; and with more Assurance, though less care. Speech is the Index of the Mind; When you see a Man Dress, and set his clothes in Print, you shall be sure to find his Words so too, and nothing in them that is Firm, and Weighty: It does not become a Man to be Delicate. As it is in Drink, the Tongue never Trips, till the Mind be overborn; So it is with Speech; so long as the Mind is Whole, and Sound, the Speech is Masculine, and Strong; but, if one Fails, the other follows.   

EPIST. II. Of Styles, Compositions, and the Choice of Words. That's the best way of Writing, and Speaking, which is Free and Natural. Advice concerning Reading.  
YOU cannot expect any Certain, and Universal Rule, either for the Style, or for the Manner of Speaking, or Writing, because they vary according to Usage, and Occasion. So that we must content ourselves with Generals. Men Write, and Speak commonly according to the humour of the Age they live in: And there is also a Correspondence betwixt the Language, and the Life of Particular Persons; as one may give a near Guess at a Man, by his very Gate, Furniture, and clothes. In the first place, let the Sense be Honest, and Noble; not pinched up into Sentences; but Substantial, and of Higher Design, with nothing in it Superfluous. Let the Words be fitted to the Matter; and where the Subject is Familiar, let the Style be so too. But great thoughts must have suitable Expressions; and there ought to be a kind of Transport in the One, to Answer it in the Other. It is not enough to compose a pleasant Fable; and tickle the Fancy; but he that Treats of Weighty Matters, must do it in Grave, and Sober Terms. There are some that have not much of the vigour of an Orator; or of that Sententious Sharpness; and yet the Worthiness of the Sense, makes amends for the Lowness of the Style. Our Forefathers were not at all delighted with fine Words, and Flowers: But their Compositions were Strong, Equal, and Manly. We have now adays here and there a Point; but the Work is Uneven, where only This, or That Particular is Remarkable. We never admire This, or That single Tree, where the Whole Wood is all of a Height. A Specious Title-Page may commend a Book to Sale, but not for Use. An Eminent Author is to be taken down Whole, and not here and there a Bit. 'Tis a Maiming of the Body to take the Members of it apart: Nor is it a Handsome Leg, or Arm, that makes a Handsome Man; but the Symmetry, and Agreement of all together. It is the Excellency of Speaking, and Writing, to do it Close; and in Words accommodate to the Intention; and I would yet have somewhat more to be signified, than is Delivered: It being also a Mark of Strength, and Solidity of Judgement. The Propriety of words, in some Cases, is Wonderful; especially when we are well read in the Knowledge of Things, and of Duties; and there is a Singular Grace in the Gentleness of Numbers, when they run Smooth, and without Perturbation. Some are raised, and Startled at Words, as a Horse is at a Drum; and endue the very Passion of the Speaker. Others are moved with the Beauty of things; and when they hear any thing bravely urged against Death, or Fortune, they do secretly wish for some Occasion of Experimenting that Generosity in themselves. But not one of a Thousand of them, that carries the Resolution home with him that he had conceived. It is an easy matter to excite an Auditory to the Love of Goodness, having already the Foundation, and the Seeds of Virtue within themselves: So that it is but awakening the Consideration of it, where all Men are agreed beforehand upon the Main. Who is so Sordid, as not to be roused at such a Speech as this? The Poor Man wants many things, but the Covetous Man wants All. Can any Flesh forbear being delighted with This saying, though a Satire against his own Vice. As to forced Metaphors, and wild Hyperboles, I would leave them to the Poets. And I am utterly against Fooling with Tinkling Conceits, and Sounds: Not that I would wholly forbid the use of Hyperboles; which, although they exceed the Truth, may yet be a means, by things Incredible, to bring us unto things Credible. And there may be great use made also of Parables: For the way of Application does usually more affect the Mind, than the downright. Meaning. That Speech which gains upon the Passions, is much more Profitable than that which only works upon the Judgement. Chrysippus was a Great Man, and of an Acute Wit; but the Edge of it was so fine, that every thing turned it: and he might be said, in truth, rather to Prick the Subject that he handled, than to Pierce it Through.  
As it is not for the Honour of a Philosopher, to be Solicitous about Words: I would not have him negligent neither: But, let him speak with Assurance, and without Affectation. If we can, let our Discourses be Powerful; but however, let them be Clear. I like a Composition that is Nervous, and Strong; but yet I would have it Sweet, and Gracious withal. There are many things, I know, that please well enough in the Delivery, and yet will hardly abide the Test of an Examination. But, That Eloquence is Mischievous, that diverts a Man from Things, to Words; and little better than a Prostitution of Letters. For, What signifies the Pomp of Words, or the Jumbling of Syllables, to the making up of a Wise Man? Tully's Composition indeed is equal; his Numbers are Harmonious, Free, and Gentle: And yet he takes a Care, not to make any forfeiture of his Gravity. Fabian is a Great Man, in being Second to Cicero: Pollio is a Great Man too, though a step below him; and so is Livy likewise, though he comes after the other Three. But several Subjects require several Excellencies. An Orator should be Sharp; the Tragedian, Great; and the Comedian, Pleasant. When a Man declaims against Vice, let him be Bitter; against Dangers, Bold; against Fortune, Proud; against Ambition, Reproachful: Let him Chide Luxury; Defame Lust: An Impotency of Mind must be Broken. In these Cases, Words are the least part of an Honest Man's Business.  
In the Matter of Composition, I would Write as I Speak; with Ease, and Freedom; for it is more Friendly, as well as more Natural: And so much my Inclination, that if I could make my mind visible to you, I would neither Speak, nor Write it. If I put my Thoughts in good Sense, the Matter of Ornament I shall leave to the Orators. There are some things that a Man may Write even as he Travels; Others, that require Privacy, and Leisure. But however, it is good in Writing, as in other Cases, to leave the best Bit for the last. A Philosopher has no more to do, than to speak properly, and in words that express his Meaning. And this may be done without Tossing of the Hands, Stamping, or any Violent Agitation of the Body; without either the Vanity of the Theatre, on the one hand, or an Insipid Heaviness, on the other. I would have his Speech as plain, and single, as his Life; for he is then as good as his Word, when both Hearing him, and Seeing him, we find him to be the same Person. And yet if a Man can be Eloquent, without more pains than the thing's worth, let him use his Faculty: Provided, that he value himself upon the Matter, More than upon the Words; and apply himself rather to the Understanding, than to the Fancy; for this is a business of Virtue, not a Trial of Wit. Who is there that would not rather have a Healing, than a Rhetorical Physician? But, for esteeming any Man purely upon the score of his Rhetoric, I would as soon choose a Pilot for a good head of Hair.  
In the matter of Reading; I would fix upon some Particular Authors, and make them my own. He that is every where, is no where; but like a Man that spends his Life in Travel, he has many Hosts, but few Friends. Which is the very Condition of him; that skips from one Book to Another; The Variety does but distract his Head; and, for want of Digesting, it turns to Corruption, in stead of Nourishment. 'Tis a good Argument of a Well Composed Mind, when a Man loves Home, and to keep Company with Himself. Whereas a Rambling Head is a Certain Sign of a Sickly Humour. Many Books, and many Acquaintances, bring a Man to a Levity of Disposition, and a Liking of Change. What is the Body the better for Meat, that will not stay with it? Nor is there any thing more Hurtful in the Case of Diseases, or Wounds, than the frequent shifting of Physic, or Plasters. Of Authors, be sure to make Choice of the Best; and, (as I said before) to stick Close to them; and, though you may take up Others by the By, reserve some Select Ones however for your Study, and Retreat. In your Reading, you will every day meet with Consolation, and Support, against Poverty, Death, and Other Calamities, Incident to Humane Life: Extract what you like; and then single out some Particular from the rest, for That day's Meditation. Reading does not only Feed, and Entertain the Understanding; but when a Man is dozed with One Study, he relieves himself with Another: But, still Reading, and Writing are to be taken up by Turns. So long as the Meat lies whole upon the Stomach, it is a Burden to us; but upon the Concoction it passes into Strength, and Blood. And so it fares with our Studies; so long as they lie whole, they pass only into the Memory, without affecting the Understanding: But, upon Meditation, they become our Own, and Supply us with Strength, and Virtue: The Bee that wanders, and Sips from every Flower, disposes what she has Gathered into her Cells.   

EPIST. III. Against all sorts of Affectation in Discourse. Fantastical Studies; Impertinent, and Unprofitable Subtleties. Man's Business is Virtue, not Words.  
THere are many men, (and some of great Sense too) that lose both the Profit, and the Reputation of good Thoughts, by the Uncouth manner of Expressing them: They love to talk in mystery, and take it for a mark of wisdom, not to be Understood. They are so fond of making themselves Public, that they will rather be Ridiculous, than not taken Notice of. When the Mind grows Squeamish, and comes to a Loathing of things that are Common as if they were Sordid, That Sickness betrays itself in our way of Speaking too: for we must have New Words, New Compositions, and it passes for an Ornament, to borrow from other Tongues, where we may be better furnished in our Own. One Man Prizes himself upon being Concise, and talking in Parables: Another runs himself out in Words; and that which He takes only for Copious, renders him to Others both Ridiculous, and Tedious. Others there are, that Like the Error well enough, but cannot come Up to't. But, take this for a Rule; Wheresoever the Speech is Corrupted, so is the Mind. Some are only for Words Antiquated, and long since out of Date; Others only for that which is Popular, and Course; and they are Both in the Wrong; for the One takes too Little Care, and the Other too Much. Some are for a Rough, broken Style; as if it were a thing Unmanly to please the Ear; Others are too Nice upon the Matter of Number, and make it rather Singing, than Speaking. Some affect not to be understood till the end of the Period, and hardly then neither. 'Tis not good; a Style that is either too Bold, or too Florid; the One wants Modesty, and the Other, Effect. Some are too Starched, and Formal; Others take a Pride in being Rugged; and if they chance to let fall any thing that is Smooth, they'll transpose, and mangle it on purpose, only to maim the Period, and Disappoint a Body's Expectation. These Errors are Commonly introduced by some person that is famous for his Eloquence; Others follow him, and so it passes into a Fashion. And we are as much out in the Choice of the Matter, as in That of our Words.  
There are some Studies which are only Matter of Curiosity, and Trial of Skill; Others of Pleasure, and of Use: but still there are many things worth the Knowing perhaps, that were not worth the Learning. It is a huge deal of time that is spent in Cavilling about Words, and Captious Disputations, that work us up to an Edge, and then Nothing comes on't. There are some Tricks of Wit, like slight of hand, which amount to no more than the Tying of Knots only to Loosen them again; And it is the very Fallacy that pleases us; for, so soon as ever we know how they are done, the Satisfaction is at an End. He that does not understand these Sophisms, is never the worse, and he that does, is never the better. If a Man tells me that I have Horns, I can tell him again, That I have None, without Feeling on my Forehead. Bion's Dilemma makes All Men to be Sacrilegious, and yet, at the same time, maintains, That there is no such thing as Sacrilege. He that takes to himself, (says he) what belongs to God, Commits Sacrilege; but all things belong to God, Therefore he that applies any thing to his own Use, is Sacrilegious. On the other side, the very Rifling of a Temple he makes to be No Sacrilege: for 'tis (says he) but the taking of something out of One place, that belongs to God, and removing of it to Another that belongs to him too. The Fallacy lies in This, that though all things Belong to him, all things are not yet Dedicated to him. There is no greater Enemy of Truth, than overmuch Subtlety of Speculation. Protagoras will have every thing Disputable, and as much to be said for the One side, as for the Other. Nay, he makes it another Question, Whether every thing be Disputable, or no. There are Others that make it a Science, to prove, That Man knows Nothing: But, the Former is the more Tolerable Error; for the Other takes away the very Hope of Knowledge; and it is better to know that which is Superfluous, than nothing at all. And yet it is a kind of Intemperance to desire to Know more than Enough; for it makes Men Troublesome, Talkative, Impertinent, Conceited, etc. There is a Certain Hankering after Learning, which, if it be not put into a right way, hinders, and falls foul upon itself. Wherefore the Burden must be fitted to the Shoulders, and no more than we are Able to Bear. It is, in a great Measure, the Fault of our Tutors, that teach their Disciples rather how to Dispute, than how to Live: And the Learner himself is also to blame, for applying himself to the Improvement, rather of his Wit, than of his Mind: By which means, Philosophy is now turned to Philology. Put a Grammarian to Virgil; he never heeds the Philosophy, but the Verse: Every Man takes Notes for his own Study. In the same Meadow the Cow finds Grass, the Dog starts a Hare, and the Stork snaps a Lizzard. Tully's de Republicâ finds work both for the Philosopher, the Philologer, and the Grammarian. The Philosopher wonders how it was Possible to Speak so much against justice.. The Philologer makes This Observation, that Rome had Two Kings, the One without a Father, and the Other without a Mother; for 'tis a Question who was Servius his Mother, and of Ancus his Father, there is not so much as any Mention. The Grammarian takes notice, that Reapse is used for Reipsa; and Sepse for Seipse: And so every Man makes his Notes for his own Purpose. These Fooleries apart, let us learn to do good to Mankind, and put our Knowledge into Action. Our Danger is the being Mistaken in Things, not in Words; and in the Confounding of Good, and Evil. So that our whole Life is but one continued Error, and we live in Dependency upon to morrow. There are a World of things to be Studied, and Learned, and therefore we should Discharge the Mind of things Unnecessary, to make way for Greater Matters. The Business of the Schools is rather a Play, than a Study; and only to be done when we can do nothing else. There are many People that frequent them, only to Hear, and not to Learn; and they take Notes too, not to reform their Manners, but to pick up words, which they Vent, with as little Benefit to Others, as they heard them, to Themselves. It costs us a great deal of time, and other men's Ears a great deal of trouble, to purchase the Character of a Learned Man: Wherefore I shall even content myself with the Courser Title of an Honest Man. The worst of it is, that there is a Vain, and Idle Pleasure in't, which tempts us to squander away many a precious hour to very little Purpose. We spend ourselves upon Subtiltics, which may perchance make us to be thought Learned, but not Good Wisdom delights in openness and Simplicity; in the Forming of our Lives, rather than in the Niceties of the Schools, which, at best, do but bring us Pleasure without Profit. And, in short, the things which the Philosophers impose upon us with so much Pride, and Vanity, are little more than the same Lessons over again, which they learned at School. But some Authors have their Names up, though their Discourses be mean enough; they Dispute, and Wrangle, but they do not Edify, any farther, than as they keep us from Ill doings, or perhaps stop us in our speed to wickedness. And there ought to be a Difference betwixt the Applauses of the Schools, and of the Theatre; the One being moved with every Popular Conceit, which does not at all Consist with the Dignity of the Other. Whereas there are some Writings that Stir up generous Resolutions, and do, as it were, inspire a Man with a new Soul. They display the Blessings of a Happy Life, and possess me at the same time with Admiration, and with Hope. They give me a Veneration for the Oracles of Antiquity; and a Claim to them, as to a Common Inheritance; for they are the Treasure of Mankind, and it must be my Duty to emprove the Stock, and transmit it to Posterity. And yet I do not love to hear a Man scite Zeno, Cleanther, Epicurus, without some thing of his Own too. What do I care for the bare Hearing of That which I may Read? Not but that word of mouth makes a great Impression, especially when they are the Speakers own Words: But he that only recites Another Man's Words, is no more to me than a Notary. Beside that there's an end of Invention, if we rest upon what's Invented already; and he that only Follows Another, is so far from finding out any thing New, that he does not so much as look for't. I do not pretend all this while to be the Master of Truth, but I am yet a most Obstinate Inquisitor after it. I am no Man's Slave; but as I ascribe much to Great Men, I challenge something to myself. Our Forefathers have left us, not only their Invention, but Matter also for farther Enquiry; and perhaps they might have found out more things that are Necessary, if they had not bend their thoughts too much upon Superfluities.  
Is not This a fine time for us to be fiddling, and fooling about Words? How many Useful, and Necessary things are there, that we are First to Learn, and Secondly, to Imprint in our Minds? For 'tis not enough to Remember, and to Understand, unless we Do what we Know.   

EPIST. IV. Business, and want of News, are no Excuse among Friends, for not Writing: Wise Men are the better for one another. How far Wisdom may be advanced by Precept.  
YOur Last Letter was very short; and the whole Letter itself was little more than an Excuse for the shortness of it. One while you are so full of Business, that you cannot write at all; and Another while, you have so little News, that you do not know what to Write. Now, assure yourself, that whosoever has a Mind to Write, may find Leisure for't: And, for your other Pretence, it looks as if we ourselves were the least part of our own business. Put the Case that the whole World were Becalmed; and that there were neither Wars, Amours, Factions, Designs, Disappointments, Competitors, or Law-Suits; No Prodigals, Usurers, or Fornicators in Nature; there would be a large Field yet left for the Offices of Friendship; and for the exercise of Philosophy, and Virtue. Let us rather consider, what we ourselves Ought to do, than harken after the Doings of other People. What signifies the Story of our Neighbours Errors, to the Reforming of our Own? Is it not a more Glorious, and Profitable Employment, to write the History of Providence, than to Record the Usurpations of Ambitious Princes; and rather to Celebrate the Bounties of the Almighty, than the Robberies of Alexander? Nor is Business any Excuse, for the Neglect, either of our Studies, or of our Friends. First, we Continue our own Business; and Then, we Increase it: And in stead of Lending, we do wholly Give ourselves up to't; and hunt for Colourable Pretences of Misspending our Time. But, I say, that where ever we are, or with whomsoever, or However Employed, we have our Thoughts at Liberty.  
You have here drawn a long Letter from me; and if you find it Tedious, you may thank yourself, for calling upon me to be as good as my Word. Not but that I write by Inclination too. For if we love th' Pictures of our Friends, by what hand soever they be drawn, How much more than shall we joy in a Friends Letters, which are undoubtedly the most Lively Pictures of one another? It is a shame, you'll say, to stand in need of any Remembrancers of an Absent Friend; and yet sometimes the Place, a Servant, a Relation, a House, a Garment, may honestly excite the Memory; and it renders every thing as Fresh to us, as if we were still joined in our Embraces, and drinking up one another's Tears. It is by the Benefit of Letters, that Absent Friends are in a manner brought together; beside that Epistolary Discourses are much more Profitable than Public, and Premeditated Declamations: for they Insinuate themselves into the Affections with more Freedom, and Effect, though with less Pomp, and Pretence. You do expect, perhaps, that I should tell you, how gentle, and short a Winter we have had; how Cold, and unseasonable a Spring; or some other Fooleries, to as little purpose. But, What are you and I the Better for such Discourses? We should rather be laying the Foundations of a Good Mind; and learning to distinguish betwixt the Blessings of Virtue, and the Amusements of Imagination. There came in some Friends to me yesterday, that made the Chimney smoke a little more than Ordinary; but not at a rate to make the Neighbourhood cry out Fire. We had variety of Discourse; and passing from one thing to another, we came at last to read something of Quintus Sextius: (a Great Man, upon my Credit, deny it that will) Good God The Force and Vigour of that Man's Writings! And how much are they above the Common Level of other Philosophers! I cannot read them methinks, without Challenging of Fortune, and Defying all the Powers of Ambition, and Violence. The more I Consider him, the more I Admire him; for I find in him, (as in the World itself) every Day to be a new Spectacle, and to afford Fresh Matter still for more Veneration. And yet the Wisdom of our Forefathers has left work enough for their Posterity; even if there were no more in it than the Application of what they have transmitted to us of their own Invention. As, suppose that they had left us Remedies for such and such Diseases; so Certain, that we should not need to look for any other Medicines; there would be some Skill yet required in the Applying of them in the proper Case, Proportion, and Season. I have an honour for the Memorials of our worthy Progenitors. If I meet a Consul, or a Praetor upon the Road, I'll alight from my Horse, uncover my Head, and give him the way; and, Shall I have no Veneration now for the Names of the Governors of Mankind? No Man is so wise, as to know all things; or if he did, one Wise Man may yet be helpful to another, in finding out a nearer way to the finishing of his work: For, let a Man make never so much haste, it is some sort of Assistance, the bare Encouraging of him to continue his Course; beside the Comforts, and Benefits of Communication, in Loving, and being Beloved, and in the mutual Approbation of each Other.  
The last Point, you know, that you and I had in Debate, was, Whether or no Wisdom may be perfected by Precept. There are some that account only that part of Philosophy to be Profitable to Mankind, which delivers itself in Particular Precepts to Particular Persons, without Forming the whole Man. Teaching the Husband (for the Purpose) how to behave himself to his Wife; the Father how to Train up, and Discipline his Children; and the Master, how to Govern his Servants. As if any Man could be sufficiently Instructed in the Parts of Life, without Comprehending the whole Sum, and Scope of it. Others, (as Aristo the Stoic) are rather for the General Decrees of Philosophers; which whosoever knows in the main, that person understands in every Particular how to Tutor himself. As he that learns to cast a Dart, when he has by Practice, and Exercise, gotten a true Aim, he will not only strike This, or That Mark, but whatever he has a Mind to: So he that is well informed in the Whole, will need no Direction in the Parts: But under the Principles of a Good Life, Learn how to behave himself in all the Circumstances of it. Cleanthes allows the Paraenetick, or Preceptive Philosophy, to be in some sort Profitable; but yet very Short, and Defective; unless as it flows from the Universal Understanding of the Heads, and Decrees of Philosophy. Now the question is, Whether This alone can make a Good Man; and whether it be Superfluous itself; or so Sufficient, as to make all other Knowledge appear so. They that will have it Superfluous, argue Thus. If the Eyes be covered, there's no Seeing, without removing the Impediment; and, in that Condition, it is to no purpose to bid a Man go to such, or such a Place, or to reach This or That with his hand. And so it fares with the Mind; So long as That continues Clouded with Ignorance, and Error, 'tis Idle to give Particular Precepts; as if you should teach a Poor Man to act the Part of a Rich; or one that is Hungry, how to behave himself with a Full Stomach: While the One is Necessitous, and the Other half Starved, they are neither of them the Better for't. And then shall we give Precepts in Manifest Cases, or in Doubtful? The Former need none; And in the Latter, we shall not be believed. Nor is it enough Simply to advise, unless we also give Reasons for't. There are Two Errors which we are liable to in this Case; either the Wickedness of Perverse Opinions, which have taken Possession of us; or at least a Disposition to Entertain Error, under any Resemblance of Truth. So that our work must be, either to Cure a Sick Mind, that is already Teinted; or to prepossess an Evil Inclination, before it comes to an Ill Habit. Now the Decrees of Philosophy enable us in both these Cases; Nor is it possible, by Particulars, to Obviate all Particular Occasions. One Man Marries a Widow, another a Maid: She may be Rich, or Poor; Barren, or Fruitful; Young, or Ancient; Superior, Inferior, or Equal. One Man follows Public Business; another flies it; so that the same Advice that is Profitable to the One, may be Mischievous to the Other. Every ones is a Particular Case, and must be suited with a Particular Counsel. The Laws of Philosophy are Brief; and extend to all; but the Variety of the Other is Incomprehensible, and can never make that good to all, which it promises to a few. The Precepts of Wisdom lie Open, but the Decrees of it are Hidden in the Dark.  
Now, in Answer. It does not hold with the Mind, as with the Eye: If there be a Suffusion, it is to be helped by Remedy, and not by Precept. The Eye is not to be taught to Distinguish of Colours; but the Mind must be Informed what to do in Life. And yet the Physician will prescribe Order also to the Patient, as well as Physic; and tell him, You must bring your Eye to endure the Light by Degrees; have a Care of Studying upon a full Stomach, etc. We are told, That Precepts do neither Extinguish, nor Abate false Opinions in us of Good, or Evil: and it shall be Granted, that of Themselves they are not able to Subdue Vicious Inclinations: But this does not hinder them from being very useful to us in Conjunction with other Helps. First, as they refresh the Memory; and Secondly, as they bring us to a more Distinct view of the Parts, which we saw but Confusedly in the Whole. At the same rate, Consolatories, and Exhortations will be found superfluous, as well as Precepts. Which yet upon Daily Experience we know to be otherwise. Nay, we are the better, not only for the Precepts, but for the Converse of Philosophers; for we still carry away somewhat of the Tincture of Virtue, whether we will or no: But the Deepest Impression they make, is upon Children. It is Urged, that Precepts are Insufficient without Proof; but I say, that the very Authority of the Adviser, goes a great way in the Credit of the Advice: As we depend upon the Opinion of the Lawyer, without demanding his Reason for't. And again; whereas the Variety of Precepts is said to be Infinite, I cannot allow it: For the greatest and most Necessary Affairs are not Many; and for the Application to Time, Places, and Persons, the Differences are so small, that a few General Rules will serve the Turn. Nay, let a Man be never so Right in his Opinion, he may yet be more Confirmed in it by Admonition. There are many things that may assist a Cure, though they do not perfect it; Even Mad men themselves may be kept in Awe by Menaces, and Correction. But, it is a hard matter, I must confess, to give Counsel at a Distance. For Advice depends much upon the Opportunity; and That perhaps which was Proper, when it was Desired, may come to be Pernicious, before it be Received. Some indeed may be Prescribed, as some Remedies, at any Distance; and transmitted to Posterity; but for Others, a Man must be upon the Place, and deliberate upon Circumstances; and be not only Present, but watchful, to Strike in with the very Nick of the Occasion.   

EPIST. V. Seneca gives an Account of Himself: Of his Studies, and of his Inclinations: With many Excellent Reflections upon the Duties, and the Errors of Humane Life.  
YOur Letters were Old, before they came to my hand; so that I made no Enquiry of the Messenger what you were a doing; beside that wherever you are, I take it for granted, that I know your Business; and that you are still upon the great Work of Perfecting yourself: A Thing, not to be done by Chance, but by Industry, and Labour. We are all of us Wicked, before we come to be Good. We are prepossessed, so that we must unlearn Iniquity, and study Virtue. The great Difficulty is, to Begin the Enterprise: For a weak Mind is afraid of New Experiments. I have now given over troubling myself for fear of you; because I have that security for your well doing, that never failed any Man. The Love of Truth, and of Goodness, is become Habitual to you. It may so fall out, that Fortune perhaps may do you an Injury; but there's no Fear of your doing yourself one. Go on as you have begun, and compose your Resolutions; not to an Effeminate Ease, but to a Frame of Virtuous Quiet. It is a Double Kindness that you call me to so strict an Account of my Time; that nothing less than a Diary of my Life, will satisfy you: for I take it as a Mark, both of your Good Opinion, and of your Friendship; The Former, in believing that I do nothing which I care to Conceal; and the Other; in assuring yourself, that I will make you the Confident of all my Secrets. I will hereafter set a Watch upon myself; and do as you would have me; and acquaint you, not only with the Course, and Method, but with the very Business of my Life.  
This Day I have had entire to myself, without any Knocking at my Door, or lifting up of the Hanging; But I have divided it betwixt my Book, and my Bed; and been left at liberty to do my own Business: For all the Impertinents were either at the Theatre, at Bowls, or at the Horse-match. My Body does not require much Exercise, and I am beholden to my Age for it: A Little makes me Weary; and That's the end also of that which is most Robust. My Dinner is a Piece of Dry Bread, without a Table, and without fouling of my Fingers. My Sleeps are short, and in truth a little Doubtful, betwixt slumbering and waking. One while I am reflecting upon the Errors of Antiquity; and then, I apply myself to the Correcting of my Own. In my Reading, with Reverence to the Ancients, Some things I Take, Others I Alter; and some again I Reject; Others I Invent; without enthralling myself so to another's Judgement, as not to preserve the Freedom of my Own. Sometimes of a sudden, in the Middle of my Meditations, my Ears are struck with the Shout of a Thousand People together, from some Spectacle or other: The Noise does not at all discompose my Thoughts; it is no more to me than the Dashing of Waves, or the Wind in a Wood; but possibly sometimes it may divert them. Good Lord! think I, if Men would but exercise their Brains, as they do their Bodies; and take as much Pains for Virtue, as they do for Pleasure; For Difficulties Strengthen the Mind, as well as Labour does the Body.  
You tell me, That you want my Books more than my Counsels; which I take just as kindly, as if you should have asked me for my Picture. For I have the very same Opinion of my Wit, that I have of my Beauty. You shall have both the One, and the Other, with my very Self into the Bargain.  
In the Examination of my own Heart, I find some Vices that lie Open; Others more Obscure, and out of Sight; and some that take me only by Fits. Which Last I look upon as the most Dangerous, and Troublesome; For they lie upon the Catch, and keep a Man upon a Perpetual Guard: Being neither provided against them, as in a State of War; nor Secure, as in any Assurance of Peace. To say the Truth, we are all of us as Cruel, as Ambitious, and as Luxurious as our Fellows. But we want the Fortune, or the Occasion, perchance, to show it. When the Snake is Frozen, 'tis Safe; but the Poison is still in it, though it be Numbed. We hate Upstarts, that use their Power with Insolence; when yet if we had the same Means, 'tis Odds that we should do the same thing ourselves. Only our Corruptions are Private, for want of Opportunity to Employ them. Some things we look upon as Superfluous; and Others, as not worth the while. But, we never consider, that we pay dearest for that which we pretend to receive Gratis. As Anxiety, Loss of Credit, Liberty, and Time. So Cheap is every Man in effect, that pretends to be most Dear to Himself. Some are Dipped in their Lusts, as in a River; there must be a hand to help them out: Others are Strangely Careless of Good Counsel; and yet well enough disposed to follow Example. Some again must be forced to their Duties: Because there's no Good to be done upon them, by Persuasion. But, out of the whole Race of Mankind, How few are there that are able to help themselves? Being thus Conscious of our own Frailty, we should do well, to keep ourselves quiet; and not to Trust Weak Minds with Wine, Beauty, or Pleasure. We have much ado you see to keep our Feet upon Dry Ground: What will become of us then, if we venture ourselves where it is Slippery? 'Tis not to say, This is a hard Lesson, and we cannot go through with it. For we Can, if we Would Endeavour it; But we Cannot, because we give it for granted That we Cannot, without trying whether we Can or No. And what's the Meaning of all This; but that we are pleased with our Vices; and willing to be Mastered by them. So that we had rather Excuse, than cast them off. The true Reason is, we Will not; but the Pretence is, that we Cannot. And we are not only under a Necessity of Error, but the very Love of it.  
To give you now a Brief of my own Character; I am none of Those that take Delight in Tumults, and in Struggling with Difficulties; for had rather be Quiet, than in Arms: for I account it my Duty to bear up against Ill Fortune; but, without Choosing it. I am no Friend to Contention; Especially to That of the Bar: But I am very much a Servant to all Honest Business, that may be done in a Corner. And there is no Retreat so Unhappy; as not to yield Entertainment for a great Mind; by which he may make himself Profitable, both to his Country, and to his Friends, by his Wisdom, by his Interest, and by his Counsel. It is the Part of a good Patriot, to prefer Men of Worth; to Defend the Innocent; to Provide Good Laws; and to Advise in War, and in Peace. But, is not He as good a Patriot, that instructs Youth in Virtue; that furnishes the World with Precepts of Morality, and keeps Humane Nature within the Bounds of Right Reason? Who is the Greater Man, he that Pronounces a Sentence upon the Bench; or he that in his Study reads us a Lecture of Justice, Piety, Patience, Fortitude; the Knowledge of Heaven, the Contempt of Death, and the Blessing of a Good Conscience? The Soldier that guards the Ammunition and the Baggage, is as Necessary as he that fights the Battle. Was not Cato a greater Example than either Ulysses, or Hercules? They had the Fame, you know, of being indefatigable; Despisers of Pleasures, and great Conquerors both of their Enemies, and of their Appetites. But Cato, I must Confess, had no Encounters with Monsters; nor did he fall into those Times of Credulity, when people believed, that the weight of the Heavens rested upon one Man's Shoulders. But he grappled with Ambition, and the unlimited Desire of Power; which the whole World, divided under a Triumvirate, was not able to satisfy. He Opposed himself to the Vices of a degenerate City; even when it was now sinking under its own weight. He stood single, and supported the falling Commonwealth, till at last, as Inseparable Friends, they were crushed together: For Neither would Cato Survive the Public Liberty; nor did That Liberty Outlive Cato.  
To give you now a Farther Accomp●… of myself; I am Naturally a Friend to all the Rules and Methods of Sobriety, and Moderation. I like the Old Fashioned Plate that was left me by my Country Father: It is Plain, and Heavy; And yet for all this, there is a kind of Dazzling methinks in the Ostentations of Splendour, and Luxury. But it strikes the Eye, more than the Mind; and though it may shake a Wise Man, it cannot Alter him. Yet it sends me home many times sadder perhaps than I went out; but yet, I hope, not Worse: though not without some secret Dissatisfaction at my Own Condition. Upon these Thoughts I betake myself to my Philosophy; and then, methinks, I am not well, unless I put myself into some Public Employment: Not for the Honour, or the Profit of it; but only to place myself in a Station where I may be serviceable to my Country, and to my Friends. But, when I come, on the other side, to consider the Uneasiness, the Abuses, and the Loss of Time that attends Public Affairs, I get me home again as fast as I can; and take up a Resolution of spending the Remainder of my days within the Privacy of my own Walls. How great a madness is it to set our hearts upon Trifles; especially to the neglect of the most serious Offices of our Lives, and the most important End of our Being? How Miserable, as well as Short, is their Life, that Compass, with great Labour, what they Possess with Greater; and Hold with Anxiety, what they Acquire with Trouble? But, we are governed in all things by Opinion, and every thing is to us, as we Believe it. What is Poverty, but a Privative; and not intended of what a Man Has, but of that which he has Not? The great Subject of Humane Calamities, is Mony. Take all the Rest together, as Death, Sickness, Fear, Desire, Pain, Labour; and those which proceed from Money, exceed them all. 'Tis a Wonderful Folly, that of Tumblers, Rope-Dancers, Divers, and what pains they take, and what hazards they run for an Inconsiderable Gain. And yet we have not Patience for the Thousandth Part of that trouble, though it would put us into the Possession of an everlasting Quiet. Epicurus for Experiment sake confined himself to a narrower Allowance, than that of the Severest Prisons to the most Capital Offenders; and found himself at Ease too in a stricter Diet than any Man in the Worst Condition needs to Fear. This was to prevent Fortune, and to Frustrate the Worst which she can do. We should never know any thing to be Superfluous, but by the Want of it. How many things do we provide, only because Others have them, and for fashion sake? Caligula offered Demetrius 5000 Crowns; who rejected them with a Smile, as who should say, It was so little, it did him no honour the refusing of it. Nothing less, says he, than the Offer of his whole Empire could have been a Temptation to have tried the Firmness of my Virtue. By this Contempt of Riches, is intended only the Fearless Possession of them. And the way to attain That, is to persuade ourselves, that we may live Happily without them. How many of those things, which Reason formerly told us were Superfluous, and Mimical, do we now find to be so by Experience? But we are misled by the Counterfeit of Good on the One hand, and the Suspicion of Evil on the Other. Not that Riches are an Efficient Cause of Mischief; but they are a Precedent Cause, by way of Irritation, and Attraction For they have so near a Resemblance of Good, that most People take them to be Good. Nay, Virtue itself is also a Precedent Cause of Evil; as many are Envied for their Wisdom, or for their Justice. Which does not arise from the thing itself, but from the Irreprovable power of Virtue, that forces all Men to Admire, and to Love it. That is not Good, that is More Advantageous to us, but That which is Only so.   

EPIST. VI The Blessings of a Virtuous Retirement. How we come to the Knowledge of Virtue. A Distinction betwixt Good, and Honest. A Wise Man Contents himself with his Lot.  
THere is no Opportunity of Enquiring Where you are, What you do, and, What Company you keep, that escapes me. And, I am well enough pleased, that I can hear nothing concerning you; for, it shows, that you live Retired. Not but that I durst trust you with the wide World too; But, however, it is not easy, such a General Conversation: Nor is it absolutely safe neither, for, though it could not Corrupt you, it would yet Hinder you. Now, wheresoever you are, know, that I am with you; and you are so to Live, as if I both heard, and saw you. Your Letters are really Blessings to me; and the sense of your Emprovements relieves me, even under the Consideration of my own decay. Remember, that as I am Old, so are you Mortal. Be true to yourself, and Examine yourself, whether you be of the same Mind to day, that you were yesterday; for, That's a Sign of Perfect Wisdom. And yet give me leave to tell you, that though Change of Mind be a Token of Imperfection; it is the Business of my Age to Unwill One day, that which I Willed Another. And let me recommend it to your Practice too, in many Cases; for the Abatement of our Appetites, and of our Errors, is the best Entertainment of Mankind. It is for Young Men to Gather Knowledge, and for Old Men to Use it: And assure yourself, that no Man gives a fairer Account of his time, than he that makes it his daily Study, to make himself Better. If you be in Health, and think it worth your while to become the Master of yourself; it is my Desire, and my Advice, that you apply yourself to Wisdom with your whole Heart: and judge of your Improvement, not by what you Speak, or by what you Write; but by the firmness of your Mind, and the Government of your Passions. What Extremities have some Men endured in Sieges; even for the Ambition, and Interest of other People! And, Shall not a Man venture the Crossing of an Intemperate Lust, for the Conquest of himself? You do very well to betake yourself to a Private Life; and better yet in keeping of that Privacy Private: For, otherwise, your Retreat would look like Ostentation: The greatest Actions of our Lives are those, that we do in a Recess from Business: Beside, that there are some Governments, and Employments, that a Man would not have any thing to do withal. And then it is to be considered, that Public Offices, and Commissions, are commonly bought with our Money; Whereas the great Blessings of Leisure, and Privacy, cost us Nothing. Contemplation is undoubtedly the best Entertainment of Peace; and only a Shorter Cut to Heaven itself: Over and above that, Business makes us Troublesome to Others, and unquiet to ourselves; For, the End of One Appetite, or Design, is the Beginning of Another: To say nothing of the Expense of Time in Vexatious Attendances, and the Danger of Competitors. Such a Man perhaps has more Friends at Court, than I have; a larger Train; a Fairer Estate; more profitable Offices; and more Illustrious Titles: But, What do I care to be overcome by Men, in Some Cases, so long as Fortune is overcome by Me in All? These Considerations should have been Earlyer; for, 'tis too late, in the Article of Death, to Project the Happiness of Life. And yet there is no Age better Adapted to Virtue, than that which comes by many Experiments, and long Sufferings, to the Knowledge of it: For our Lusts are then weak, and our Judgement Strong; And Wisdom is the Effect of Time.  
Some are of Opinion, That we come to the Knowledge of Virtue by Chance; (which were an Indignity.) Others, by Observation; and by Comparing Matters of Fact, one with another; The Understanding, by a kind of Analogy, approving This, or That, for Good, and Honest. These are two Points which Others make wholly Different; but the Stoics only Divide them. Some will have every thing to be Good, that is Beneficial to us: As Money, Wine; and so Lower, to the meanest things we use. And they reckon That to be Honest, where there is a Reasonable Discharge of a Common Duty: As Reverence to a Parent; Tenderness to a Friend; the Exposing of ourselves for our Country, and the Regulating of our Lives according to Moderation, and Prudence. The Stoics reckon them to be Two; but so, as to make those Two, yet, out of One. They will have nothing to be Good, but what is Honest; nor any thing to be Honest, but that which is Good: So that in some sort they are Mixed, and Inseparable. There are some things that are neither Good, nor Bad; as War, Embassy, Jurisdiction: but these, in the Laudable Administration of them, do, of Doubtful, become Good; which Good is only a Consequent upon Honesty: But honesty is Good in itself, and the Other flows from it. There are some Actions that seem to us Matter of Benignity, Humanity, Generosity, Resolution; which we are apt to admire, as Perfect: And yet, upon farther Examination, we find, that Great Vices were concealed under the Resemblances of Eminent Virtues. Glorious Actions are the Images of Virtue; but yet many things seem to be Good, that are Evil; and Evil, that are Good: And the Skill is, to Distinguish betwixt things that are so much Alike in Show, and so Disagreeing in Effect. We are led to the Understanding of Virtue, by the Congruity we find in such and such Actions to Nature, and Right Reason: By the Order, Grace, and Constancy of them; and, by a Certain Majesty, and Greatness, that surpasses all other things. From hence proceeds a Happy Life: To which, nothing comes Amiss; but, on the Contrary, every thing succeeds to our very Wish. There is no wrangling with Fortune; No being out of Humour for Accidents: whatsoever befalls me, is my Lot, and whether in Appearance it be Good, or Bad, it is God's Pleasure; and it is my Duty to bear it. When a Man has once gotten a Habit of Virtue, all his Actions are Equal: He is constantly One, and the Same Man; and he does Well, not only upon Counsel, but out of Custom too. Shall I tell you now, in a Word, the Sum of Human Duty? Patience, where we are to Suffer▪ and Prudence, in the things we Do. It is a frequent Complaint in the World, that the things we Enjoy are but Few, Transitory, and Uncertain▪ So Ungrateful a Construction do we make of the Divine Bounty. Hence it is, that we are neither willing to Die, nor Contented to Live; betwixt the Fear of the One, and the Detestation of the Other. Hence it is, that we are perpetually shifting of Counsels; and still craving of More; because that which we call Felicity, is not able to Fill us. And what's the Reason? But that we are not yet come to that Immense; and Insuperable Good, which leaves us nothing farther to desire! In that Blessed Estate we feel no want; we are abundantly pleased with what we Have; and what we have Not, we do not Regard: So that every thing is Great, because it is Sufficient. If we quit this Hold, there will be no place for the Offices of Faith, and Piety: In the Discharge whereof, we must both Suffer many things, that the World calls Evil, and part with many things which are commonly accounted Good. True Joy is Everlasting; Pleasures are False, and Fugitive. It is a great Encouragement to well-doing, that when we are once in the Possession of Virtue, it is our own for ever. While I speak This to you, I prescribe to myself; what I Write, I Read; and Reduce all my Meditations to the Ordering of my own Manners. There is nothing so Mean, and Ordinary; but it is Illustrated by Virtue; and Externals are of no more Use to it, than the Light of a Candle to the Glory of the Sun.  
It is often Objected to me, that I Advise People to quit the World, to Retire, and Content themselves with a good Conscience. But, What becomes of your Precepts then (say they) that enjoin us to Die in Action? To whom I must answer, That I am never more in Action, than when I am alone in my Study; where I have only Locked up myself in Private, to attend the Business of the Public▪ I do not Lose so much as One Day; nay, and part of the night too I borrow for my Book. When my Eyes will serve me no longer, I fall Asleep; and, till Then, I Work. I have Retired myself, not only from Men, but from Business also: And my Own, in the First Place, to attend the Service of Posterity; In hope that what I Now Write, may, in some Measure,▪ be Profitable to Future Generations.  
But it is no New thing, I know, to Calumniate Virtue, and Good Men; for Sick Eyes will not endure the Light, but, like Birds of Night, they fly from it into their Holes. Why does such a Man talk so much of his Philosophy, and yet live in Magnificence? Of Contemning Riches, Life, Health; and yet Cherish, and Maintain them, with the greatest Care Imaginable? Banishment, he says, is but an Idle Name; and yet he can grow old within his own Walls. He puts no difference betwixt a Long Life, and a short; and yet he Spins out his Own, as far as it will go. The thing is This; He does not Contemn Temporary Blessings, so as to Refuse, or Drive them away; but if they Come, they are Welcome; if not, he'll never break his heart for the want of them: He takes them into his House, not into his Soul; and he makes use of them, only as Matter for his Virtue to work upon. There is no doubt but a Wise Man may show himself better in Riches, than in Poverty: That is to say, his Temperance, his Liberality; his Magnificence, Providence, and Prudence▪ will be more Conspicuous. He will be a Wise Man still, if he should want a Leg, or an Arm; but yet he had rather be Perfect. He is pleased with Wealth, as he would be at Sea, with a Fair Wind; or with the Glance of the warm Sun, in a Frosty Morning: So that the things which we call Indifferent, are not yet without their Value; And some greater than Others. But, with this Difference, betwixt the Philosophers, and the Common People, Riches are the Servants of the One, and the Masters of the Other. From the One, if they Depart, they carry away nothing but Themselves; but from the Other, they take away the very Heart, and Peace of the Possessor along with them. It is true, that if I might have my Choice, I would have Health, and Strength; And yet if I come to be visited with Pain, or Sickness, I will endeavour to emprove them to my Advantage, by making a Righteous Judgement of them: as I ought to do, of all the Appointments of Providence. So that as they are not Good, in themselves, neither are they Evil; But matter of Exercise for our Virtues; of Temperance, on the One hand, and of Resignation, on the Other.   

EPIST. VII. Of Impertinent Studies, and Impertinent Men. Philosophers the Best Companions.  
HE that duly Considers the Business of Life and Death, will find, that he has little time to spare from That Study: And yet how we trifle away our hours upon Impertinent Niceties, and Cavils! Will Platoe's Imaginary Ideas make me an Honest Man? There's neither Certainty in them, nor Substance. A Mouse is a Syllable; but a Syllable does not eat Cheese; Therefore a Mouse does not eat Cheese. Oh! these Childish Follies! Is it for This that we spend our Blood, and our Good Humour, and grow Grey in our Closets? We are a jesting, when we should be helping the Miserable; as well ourselves as Others. There's no Sporting with Men in Distress. The Felicity of Mankind depends upon the Counsel of Philosophers. Let us rather consider what Nature has made Superfluous, and what, Necessary: how Easy our Conditions are, and how Delicious That Life, which is governed by Reason, rather than Opinion. There are Impertinent Studies, as well as Impertinent Men. Didymus the Grammarian Wrote 4000 Books; wherein he is much Concerned to discover Where Homer was born; Who was Aeneas' true Mother; and whether Anacreon was the greater Whoremaster, or Drunkard: With other Fopperies, that a Man would labour to Forget, if he Knew them. Is it not an Important Question, which of the Two was First, the Mallet, or the Tongues? Some people are extremely Inquisitive, to know how many Oars Ulysses had: Which was first Written, the Illyads▪ or the Odysseys; or if they were Both done by the same hand. A Man is never a Jote the more Learned for this ●…uriosity, but much the more Troublesome. Am I ever the more Just, the more Moderate, Valiant, or Liberal, for knowing, that Curius Dentatus was the First that carried Elephants in Triumph? Teach me my Duty to Providence, to my Neighbour, and to myself: To Dispute, with Socrates; to Doubt, with Carneades; to set up my Rest, with Epicurus; to Master my Appetites, with the Stoiques, and to Renounce the World, with the Cynic. What a deal of Business there is, First, to make Homer a Philosopher; and Secondly, in what Classis to Range him? One will have him to be a Stoic; a Friend to Virtue, and an Enemy to Pleasure; preferring Honesty even to Immortality itself: Another makes him an Epicurean; One that loves his Quiet, and to spend his Time in Good Company: Some are Positive in it, that he was a Peripatetique; and Others, that he was a Sceptic. But it is Clear, that in being all these things, he was not any One of them. These Divided Opinions do not at all hinder us from agreeing, upon the Main, that he was a Wise Man. Let us therefore apply ourselves to those things that made him so, and even let the Rest alone.  
It was a Pleasant Humour of Calvicius Sa●…us, a Rich Man, and one that managed a very Good Fortune with a very Ill Grace. He had neither Wit, nor Memory; but would fain pass for a Learned Man, and so took several into his Family; And, whatsoever they knew, he assumed to Himself. There are a sort of People that are never well but at Theatres, Spectacles, and Public Places: Men of Business, but it is only in their Faces; for they wander up and down without any Design, like Pismires, Eager, and Empty; and every thing they do, is only as it happens. This is an humour, which a Man may call a kind of Restless Lazyness. Others you shall have, that are perpetually in Haste, as if they were Crying Fire, or running for a Midwife: and all this Hurry, perhaps, only to Salute some body, that had no mind to take Notice of them, or some such Trivial▪ Errand▪ At Night, when they come Home ●…ir'd, and weary, ask them, Why they went out? Where they have been? and, What they have done? 'tis a very Slender Account they are able to give you; and yet the next day they take the same▪ jaunt▪ over again▪ This is a kind of Fantastical Industry; a great deal of Pains taken to no purpose at all; Twenty Visits made, and no body at home (they themselves lest of all.) They that have this Vice, are commonly Harkeners, Tale-Bearers, Newsmongers; Medlars in other People's Affairs, and Curious after Secrets, which a Man can neither safely Hear, nor Report. These Men of Idle Employment, that run up and down eternally, vexing Others, and themselves too; that thrust themselves into all Companies, What do they get by't? One Man's Asleep; Another, at Supper; a Third, in Company; a Fourth, in Haste; a Fifth, gives them the Slip: and when their folly has gone the Round, they close up the Day with Shame, and Repentance. Whereas, Zeno, Pythagoras, Democritus, Aristotle, Theophrastus, and all the Patrons of Philosophy, and Virtue; they are always at Leisure, and in Good Humour; Familiar, Profitable; a Man never comes away empty handed from them; but, full of Comfort, and Satisfaction: They make all Past Ages Present to us; or Us, Their Contemporaries. The Dorës of these Men are open Night, and Day; and in their Conversation there's neither Danger, Treachery, nor Expense; but we are the Wiser, the Happier, and the Richer for it. How blessedly does a Man spend his time in this Company, where we may advise, in all the Difficulties of Life. Here's Counsel, without Reproach; and Praise, without Flattery. We cannot be the Choosers of our Own Parents, but of our Friends we may; and Adopt ourselves into these Noble Families. This is the way of making Mortality, in a Manner, to be Immortal. The time Past, we make to be our Own, by Remembrance; the Present, by Use; and the Future, by Providence, and Foresight. That only may properly be said to be the Long Life, that draws all Ages into One; and That a short one, that Forgets the Past; Neglects the Present, and is Solicitous for the Time to Come. But it is not yet sufficient to know what Plato or Zeno said, unless we make it all our Own by Habit, and Practice, and Emprove both the World, and ourselves, by an Example of Life Answerable to their Precepts.   

EPIST. VIII. Against Singularity of Manners, and Behaviour.  
IT is the Humour of many People, to be Singular in their Dress, and Manner of Life; only to the End that they may be taken Notice of. Their clothes, forsooth, must be Course, and Slovenly; their Heads, and Beards neglected; their Lodgings upon the Ground, and they live in Open Defiance against Mony. What is all this, upon the whole Matter, but an Ambitious Vanity that has crept in at the Back Dore? A Wise Man will keep himself Clear of all these Fooleries, without disturbing Public Customs, or making himself a Gazing Stock to the People. But, Will This Secure him, think you? I can no more warrant it, than that a Temperate Man shall have his Health: But it is very Probable that it may. A Philosopher has enough to do to stand right in the World, let him be never so modest: And his outside shall be still like That of Other people, let them be never So Unlike within. His Garments shall be neither Rich, nor Sordid. No matter for Arms, Mottoes, and other Curiosities upon his Plate: But he shall not yet make it a Matter of Conscience, to have no Plate at all. He that likes an Earthen Vessel as well as a Silver, has not a greater Mind than he that uses Plate, and reckons it as Dirt. It is our Duty to Live Better than the Common-People, but not in Opposition to them; as if Philosophy were a Faction; for by so Doing, in stead of Reforming, and gaining upon them, we drive them away; and when they find it unreasonable to Imitate us in All things, they will follow us in Nothing. Our Business must be to live according to Nature, and to own the Sense of Outward things with other people: Not to Torment the Body; and, with Exclamations against that which is Sweet, and Cleanly, to Delight in Nastiness; and, To use, not only a Course, but a Sluttish, and Offensive Diet. Wisdom Preaches Temperance, not Mortification; and a Man may be a very Good Husband, without being a Sloven. He that Stears a Middle Course, betwixt Virtue, and Popularity: That is to say, betwixt Good Manners, and Discretion, shall gain both Approbation, and Reverence. But, What if a Man Governs himself in his clothes, in his Diet, in his Exercises, as he ought to do? It is not that his Garments, his Meat, and Drink, or his Walking, are things Simply Good; but it is the Tenor of a Man's Life, and the Conformity of it to Right Nature, and Reason. Philosophy obliges us to Humanity, Society; and the Ordinary Use of External things. It is not a thing to please the People with, or to entertain an Idle Hour; but a Study for the Forming of the Mind, and the Guidance of Humane Life. And a Wise Man should also Live as he Discourses; and in all Points be like himself: And, in the first place, set a Value upon himself, before he can pretend to become Valuable to Others. As well our Good Deeds, as our Evil, come home to us at last. He that is Charitable, makes others so by his Example; and finds the Comfort of That Charity, when he wants it himself. He that is Cruel, seldom finds Mercy. 'Tis a hard Matter for a Man to be both Popular, and Virtuous; for he must be Like the People, that would oblige them: and the Kindness of Dishonest Men, is not to be acquired by Honest Means. He Lives by Reason, not by Custom; He shuns the very Conversation of the Intemperate, and Ambitious. He knows the Danger of Great Examples of Wickedness, and that Public Errors impose upon the World, under the Authority of Precedents: For they take for Granted, that they are never out of the way, so long as they keep the Road.  
We are beset with Dangers; and therefore a Wise Man should have his Virtues in Continual Readiness to Encounter them. Whether Poverty, Loss of Friends, Pain, Sickness, or the like; He still maintains his Post: Whereas a Fool is Surprised at every thing; and afraid of his Very Succours: Either he makes no Resistance at all, or else he does it by Halves. He will neither take Advice from Others, nor look to himself: He reckons upon Philosophy, as a thing not worth his time, and if he can but get the Reputation of a Good Man among the Common People, he takes no farther Care, but Accounts that he has done his Duty.   

EPIST. IX. The Blessings of a Vigorous Mind, in a Decayed Body; with some Pertinent Reflections of Seneca upon his Own Age.  
WHen I call Claranus my School-fellow, I need not say any thing more of his Age; having told you, that He, and I, were Cotemporaries. You would not Imagine, how Green, and Vigorous his Mind is; and the perpetual Conflict that it has with his Body. They were Naturally Ill-matched; unless to show, that a Generous Spirit may ●…e lodged under any shape. He has Surmounted all Difficulties; and, from the Contempt of Himself, is advanced to the Contempt of All things else. When I consider him well, methinks his Body appears to me as fair as his Mind. If Nature could have brought the Soul Naked into the World, perhaps she would have done it: But yet she does a greater thing, in Exalting that Soul above all Impediments of the Flesh. It is a great Happiness, to preserve the Force of the Mind, in the Decay of the Body; and to see the Loss of Appetite More than Requited, with the Love of Virtue. But, whether I Owe This Comfort to my Age, or to Wisdom, is the Question. And whether, if I Could any longer, I Would not still, do the same things over again, which I Ought not to do. If Age had no other Pleasure than This, that it neither Cares for any thing, nor stands in need of any thing; it were a Great one to me, to have left all my painful, and troublesome Lusts Behind me. But, ' 'tis uneasy, you'll say, to be always in Fear of Death. As if That Apprehension did not Concern a Young Man as well as an Old; Or that Death only called us, according to our Years. I am however beholden to my Old Age, that has now confined me to my Bed; and put me out of Condition of doing those things any longer, which I should not do. The Less my Mind has to do with my Body, the Better: And if Age puts an end to my Desires, and does the Business of Virtue, there can be no Cause of Complaint; nor can there be any Gentler End, than to melt away in a kind of Dissolution. Where Fire meets with Opposition, and Matter to work upon, it is Furious, and Rages; but where it finds no Fuel, as in Old Age, it goes out quietly, for want of Nourishment. Nor is the Body the Settled Habitation of the Mind; but a Temporary Lodging, which we are to leave whensoever the Master of the House pleases. Neither does the Soul, when it has left the Body, any more Care what becomes of the Carcase, and the several parts of it, than a Man does for the shave of his Beard under the hand of the Barber. There is not any thing that Exposes a Man to more Vexation, and Reproach, than the overmuch Love of the Body: For Sense neither looks Forward, nor Backward, but only upon the Present: Nor does it judge of Good, or Evil; or Foresee Consequences which give a Connexion to the Order, and Series of Things, and to the Unity of Life. Not but that every Man has Naturally a Love for his Own Carcase, as Poor People Love even their Own Beggarly Cottages; they are Old Acquaintances, and Loath to Part: And I am not against the Indulging of it neither; provided that I make not myself a Slave to it; for he that serves it, has Many Masters. Beside that, we are in Continual Disorder; One while with Gripes, Pains in the Head, Toothache, Gout, Stone, Defluxions; some time with too Much Blood, other while with too Little: And yet this Frail, and Putrid Carcase of Ours values itself as if it were Immortal. We put no Bounds to our Hopes, our Avarice, our Ambition. The same Man is Vatinius to Day, and Cato to Morrow: This hour as Luxurious as Apicius, and the next as Temperate as Tubero: Now, for a Mistress; by and by, for a Wise: Imperious This hour; Servile, the Next; Thrifty, and Prodigal, Laborious, and Voluptuous, by turns. But still the Goods, or Ills of the Body, do but Concern the Body, (which is Peevish, Sour, and Anxious) without any effect upon a Well-composed Mind. I was the Other day at my Villa; And, Complaining of my Charge of Repairs; My Bailiff told me, ' 'twas none of his Fault; for the House was Old, and he had much ado to keep it from falling upon his Head. Well (thought I) and what am I myself then, that saw the laying of the First Stone? In the Gardens, I found the Trees as much out of Order; the Boughs Knotted, and Withered, and their Bodies overrun with Moss. This would not have been, said I, if you had Trenched them, and Watered them, as you should have done? By my Soul, Master, says the poor Fellow, I have done what I could: But all ass! they are all Dotards, and Spent. What am I then, (thought I to myself) that planted all these Trees with my own Hands. And then I come to bethink myself, that Age itself is not yet without its Pleasures, if we did but know how to use them; and that the Best Morsel is reserved for the Last: Or at worst, it is Equivalent to the Enjoying of Pleasures, not to stand in need of any. It is but yesterday, methinks, that I went to School. But Time goes faster with an Old Man, than with a Young: Perhaps, because he reckons more upon it. There is hardly any Man so Old, but he may hope for One day more yet: and the Longest Life is but a Multiplication of Days, nay, of Hours, nay of Moment's. Our Fate is Set; and the First Breath we draw, is but the First Step towards our Last. One 'Cause depends upon another; and the Course of All things, Public, and Private, is only a Long Connexion of Providential Appointments. There is great Variety in our Lives; but all Tends to the same Issue Nature may use her own Bodies as she Pleases; but a Good Man has this Consolation, that nothing Perishes that he can call his Own. What Must be, Shall be; and that which is a Necessity to him that Struggles, is little more than Choice to him that is Willing. 'Tis Bitter, to be Forced to any thing; but things are Easy, when they are Complied with.   

EPIST. X. Custom is a great Matter, either in Good, or iii. We should check our Passions Betimes. Involuntary Motions are Invincible.  
THere is nothing so Hard; but Custom makes it Easy to us. There are some, that never Laughed; Others, that Wholly abstained from Wine, and Women; and almost from Sleep. Much use of a Coach makes us lose the Benefit of our Legs: So that we must be Infirm, to be in the Fashion; and, at last, lose the very Faculty of Walking, by Disusing it. Some are so plunged in Pleasures, that they cannot Live without them. And, in This, they are most Miserable; that what was, at First, but Superfluous, is Now, become Necessary. But their Infelicity seems to be then Consummate, and Incurable, when Sensuality has laid hold of the Judgement; and Wickedness is become a Habit. Nay, some there are, that both Hate, and Persecute Virtue; and that's the last Act of Desperation. It is much Easier to Check our Passions in the Beginning, than to stop them in their Course: For, if Reason could not hinder us at first; they will go on in despite of us. The Stoics will not allow a Wise Man to have any Passions at all. The Peripatetics Temper them; but That Mediocrity is altogether False, and Unprofitable. And, 'tis all one, as if they said, That we may be a Little Mad, or a Little Sick. If we give any sort of Allowance to Sorrow, Fear, Desires, Perturbations, it will not be in our Power to restrain them. They are fed from Abroad; and will increase with their Causes. And if we yield never so little to them, the least disorder works upon the whole Body. It is not my Purpose all this while, wholly to take away any thing, that is either Necessary, Beneficial, or Delightful to Humane Life; but, to take That away, which may be Vicious in it. When I forbid you to desire any thing, I am yet content that you may be Willing to have it. So that I permit you the same things: And those very Pleasures will have a Better Relish too, when they are enjoyed without Anxiety; and when you come to Command those Appetites, which before you served. 'Tis Natural you'll say, to weep for the Loss of a Friend; to be Moved at the Sense of a Good, or Ill Report, and to be Sad in Adversity. All this I'll grant you; and there is no Vice, but something may be said for't. At First, 'tis Tractable, and Modest; but, if we give it entrance, we shall hardly get it out again. As it goes on, it gathers strength, and becomes Quickly Ungovernable. It cannot be denied, but that all Affections flow from a Kind of Natural Principle; and that it is our Duty to take Care of ourselves. But than it is our Duty also, not to be over Indulgent. Nature has mingled Pleasures, even with things most Necessary; Not that we should value them for their Own Sakes, but to make those things which we cannot live without, to be more Acceptable to us. If we Esteem the Pleasure for itself, it turns to Luxury, It is not the Business of Nature to Raise Hunger, or Thirst, but to Extinguish it.  
As there are some Natural Frailties, that by Care, and Industry, may be Overcome; So there are Others, that are Invincible: As, for a Man that values not his Own Blood, to Swoon at the Sight of another Mans. Involuntary Motions are Insuperable, and Inevitable; As the Staring of the Hair at Ill News; Blushing at a Scurrilous Discourse; Swimming of the head upon the sight of a Precipice, etc. Who can Read the Story of Clodius Expelling Cicero, and Anthony's Killing of him; the Cruelties of Marius, and the Proscriptions of Sylla; without being moved at it? The Sound of a Trumpet, the Picture of any thing that is Horrid, the Spectacle of an Execution, Strikes the Mind, and works upon the Imagination. Some People are strangely subject to Sweat, to Tremble, to Stammer; their very Teeth will Chatter in their Heads, and their Lips Quiver; and especially in Public Assemblies. These are Natural Infirmities; and it is not all the Resolution in the World, that can ever Master them. Some Redden when they are Angry. Sylla was one of those; and when the Blood Flushed into his Face, you might be sure he had Malice in his Heart. Pompey, on the other side (that hardly ever spoke in Public without a Blush) had a wonderful Sweetness of Nature; and it did exceedingly well with him. Your Comedians will represent Fear, Sadness, Anger, and the like; but when they come to a bashful Modesty, though they'll give you humbleness of Looks, softness of Speech, and down-Cast-Eyes, to the very Life, yet they can never come to express a Blush; for it is a thing neither to be Commanded, nor Hindered; but it comes and goes of its own accord. The Course of Nature is Smooth, and Easie; but when we come to Cross it, we strive against the Stream. It is not for one Man to Act another Man's Part. For Nature will quickly Return, and take off the Mask. There is a kind of Sacred Instinct that moves us. Even the worst, have a Sense of Virtue. We are not so much Ignorant, as Careless. Whence comes it, that Grazing Beasts distinguish Salutary Plants, from Deadly? A Chicken is afraid of a Kite; and not of a Goose, or a Peacock, which is much Bigger: A Bird of a Cat, and not of a Dog. This is Impulse, and not Experiment. The Cells of Bees, and the Webs of Spiders, are not to be imitated by Art, but it is Nature that teaches them. The Stage-Player has his Actions, and Gestures in Readiness; but This is only an Improvement by Art, of what Nature teaches them; who is never at a Loss for the Use of herself. We come into the World with This Knowledge; and we have it by a Natural Institution; which is no Other, than a Natural Logic. We brought the Seeds of Wisdom into the World with us; but not Wisdom itself. There is the Goodness of God, and That of Man; the One is Immortal, the Other Mortal: Nature perfects the One, and Study the Other.   

EPIST. XI. We are Divided in ourselves; and Confound Good, and Evil.  
IT is no wonder that Men are Generally very much Unsatisfied with the World; when there's not One Man of a Thousand that agrees with himself: and that's the Root of our Misery; only we are willing to Charge our Own Vices, upon the Malignity of Fortune. Either we are Puffed up with Pride; Wracked with Desires; Dissolved in Pleasures, or Blasted with Cares; and, which perfects our Unhappiness, we are never Alone, but in perpetual Conflict, and Controversy with our Lusts. We are Startled at all Accidents. We Boggle at our own Shadows, and Fright one Another. Lucretius says, that we are as much afraid in the Light, as Children in the Dark; but, I say, That we are altogether in Darkness, without any Light at all; and we run on blindfold, without so much as Groping out our way: Which Rashness in the Dark is the worst sort of Madness. He that is in his way, is in hope of coming to his Journeys End; but Error is Endless. Let every Man therefore Examine his Desires, whether they be according to rectified Nature, or Not. That Man's Mind can never be Right, whose Actions Disagree. We must not Live by Chance; for there can be no Virtue without Deliberation, and Election. And, where we cannot be Certain, let us follow that which is most Hopeful, and Probable. Faith, Justice, Piety, Fortitude, Prudence, are Venerable, and the Possessions only of Good Men; but, a Plentiful Estate, a Brawny Arm, and a Firm Body, are Many times the Portion of the Wicked. The Perfection of Humane Nature, is that State, which supports itself, and so is out of the Fear of Falling. It is a great weakness for a Man to value himself upon any thing, wherein he shall be Outdone by Fools, and Beasts. We are to consider Health, Strength, Beauty, and other Advantages of That Kind, only as Adventitious Comforts: We may preserve them with Care, provided that we be always ready to Quit them, without Trouble. There is a Pleasure in Wickedness, as well as in Virtue, and there are, that take a Glory in it too; wherefore our Forefathers prescribed us the Best Life, and not the most Plentiful; and allowed us Pleasure for a Companion, but not for a Guide. We do many times take the Instruments of Happiness, for the Happiness itself; and rest upon those Matters, that are but in the way to't. That Man only lives Composed, who thinks of every thing that May Happen, before he Feels it. But this is not yet to advise, either Neglect, or Indifference; For I would avoid any thing that may hurt me, where I may honourably do it. But yet I would consider the worst of things beforehand. Examine the Hope, and the Fear; and, where things are uncertain, favour yourself, and believe That which you had rather should come to pass. There are not many Men that know their own Minds, but in the Very Instant of Willing any thing. We are for One thing to Day, another thing to Morrow; So that we Live and Die without coming to any Resolution: Still seeking That Elsewhere, which we may give ourselves; That is to say, a Good Mind. And, in truth, we do persuade ourselves, that in several Cases, we do Desire the thing which effectually we do not Desire. And all This, for want of Laying down some Certain Principles, to make the Judgement Inflexible, and Steady. When we do any Evil, it is either for fear of a greater Evil, or in Hope of such a Good, as may more than Balance that Evil. So that we are here Distracted betwixt the Duty of Finishing our Purpose, and the Fear of Mischief, and Danger. This Infirmity must be discharged. In the Pursuit of Pleasures, we should take Notice, that there are not only sensual, but sad Pleasures also, which Transport the Mind with Adoration, (though they do not Tickle the Senses) and give us a Veneration for those Virtues, that exercise themselves in Sweat, and Blood. All True Goods hold an Affinity and Friendship one with another; and they are Equal; but False Ones have in them much of Vanity; they are large, and Specious to the Eye; but, upon Examination, they want weight. Now, though Virtues are all Alike, they may yet be distinguished into Desirable, and Admirable; Virtues of Patience, and of Delight: But, in the Matter of Common Accidents, there is not any thing which is truly worthy, either of our Joy, or of our Fear. For Reason is immovable, and does not Serve, but Command our Senses. What is Pleasure, but a Low and Brutish thing? Glory is Vain, and Volatile; Poverty only hard to him that does not Resist it; Superstition is a Frantic Error, that Fears where it should Love; and Rudely Invades where it should Reverentially Worship. Death itself is no Evil at all, but the Common Benefit, and Right of Nature. There is a great Difference, betwixt those things which are Good in Common Opinion, and those which are so in Truth, and Effect: The Former have the Name of Good things, but not the Propriety: They may Befall us, but they do not Stick to us: And they may be taken away without either Pain to us, or Diminution. We may Use them; but, not Trust in them; For, they are Only Deposited; and, they must, and will Forsake us. The only Treasure is That, which Fortune has no Power over: And, the Greater it is, the Less Envy it carries along with it. Let our Vices Die before us, and let us Discharge ourselves of our Dear-bought Pleasures, that hurt us, as well Past, as to Come; for, they are followed with Repentance, as well as our Sins. There's neither Substance in them, nor Truth; for a Man can never be weary of Truth, but there's a Satiety in Error. The Former is always the same, but the Latter is Various; and, if a Man looks near it, he may see through it. Beside that, the Possessions of a Wise Man are Maintained with Ease. He has no need of Ambassadors, Armies, and Castles; but, like God himself, he does his Business without either Noise, or Tumult. Nay, there is something so Venerable, and Sacred in Virtue, that if we do but meet with any thing like it, the very Counterfeit Pleases us. By the help of Philosophy the Soul gives the slip to the Body, and Refreshes itself in Heaven. Pleasures, at best, are Short-lived; but the Delights of Virtue are Secure, and Perpetual. Only we must Watch, Labour, and attend it ourselves. For, 'tis a Business, not to be done by a Deputy. Nor is it properly a Virtue, to be a little better than the Worst. Will any Man boast of his Eyes, because they tell him that the Sun shines? Neither is he presently a Good Man, that thinks Ill of the Bad. For Wicked Men do That too; and 'tis perhaps the Greatest punishment of Sin, the Displeasure that it gives to the Author of it. The saddest Case of all is, when we become Enamoured of our Ruin, and make Wickedness our Study. When Vice has got a Reputation, and when the Dissolute have lost the Only Good thing they had in their Excesses, the Shame of Offending. And yet the Lewedest part of our Corruptions, is in Private, which, if any body had looked on, we should never have Committed. Wherefore, let us bear in our Minds the Idea of some great Person, for whom we have an Awful Respect; and his Authority will even Consecrate the very Secrets of our Souls; and make us, not only mend our Manners, and purify our very Thoughts; but in good time render us Exemplary to Others, and Venerable to ourselves. If Scipio, or Laelius were but in our Eye, we should not dare to Transgress. Why do we not make ourselves then such persons, as in whose Presence we dare not offend?   

EPIST. XII. We are Moved at the Novelty of things, for want of Understanding the Reason of them.  
THe whole Subject of Natural Philosophy, falls under these Three Heads; the Heavens, the Air, and the Earth. The First Treats of the Nature of the Stars; their Form, and Magnitude: The Substance of the Heavens; whether Solid, or not; and whether they move of Themselves, or be moved by any thing Else; whether the Stars be Below them, or fixed in their Orbs: In what manner the Sun divides the Seasons of the Year: and the like. The Second Part Inquires into the Reason of things betwixt the Heavens and the Earth; as Clouds, Rain, Snow, Thunder, and whatsoever the Air either Does, or Suffers. The Third handles matters that have a regard to the Earth; as the difference of Soils, Minerals, Metals, Plants, Groves, etc. But, these are Considerations wholly foreign to our Purpose, in the Nature of them; though they may be of very Proper, and Pertinent Application. There is not any Man so Brutal, and so Grovelling upon the Earth, but his Soul is roused, and carried up to higher Matters, and Thoughts, upon the Appearance of any New Light from Heaven. What can be more worthy of Admiration, than the Sun, and the Stars in their Courses, and Glory? And yet so long as Nature goes on in her Ordinary way, there's no body takes Notice of them: But, when any thing falls out beyond Expectation, and Custom, what a Gazing, Pointing, and Questioning, is there presently about it. The People gather together, and are at their Wits End; not so much at the Importance of the Matter, as at the Novelty. Every Meteor sets People agog to know the Meaning of it, and what it Portends; and whether it be a Star, or a Prodigy: So that it is worth the while to inquire into the Nature, and Philosophy of these Lights, (though not the business of this Place) that by discovering the Reason, we may overcome the Apprehension of them. There are many things which we know to Be, and yet we know nothing at all of what they Are. Is it not the Mind that Moves us, and Restreins us? But, What that Ruling Power is, we do no more understand, than Where it is. One will have it to be a Spirit: Another will have it to be a Divine Power: Some, only a Subtle Air; Others, an Incorporeal Being; and some again will have it to be only Blood, and Heat. Nay, so far is the Mind from a Perfect understanding of Other things, that it is still in search of itself. It is not long since we came to find out the Causes of Eclipses: And farther Experience will bring more things to Light, which are as yet in the Dark; But, one Age is not sufficient for so many Discoveries. It must be the Work of Successions, and Posterity; and the time will come, when we shall wonder that Mankind should be so long Ignorant of things, that lay so open, and so easy to be made Known. Truth is offered to all; But we must yet content ourselves with what's already found; and leave some Truths to be retrieved by After Ages. The Exact truth of things is only known to God; but, it is yet Lawful for us to Inquire, and to Conjecture, though not with too much Confidence: Nor yet altogether without Hope. In the First place however, let us Learn things Necessary; and if we have any time to spare, we may apply it to Superfluities.  
Why do we trouble ourselves about things which Possibly May Happen, and peradventure, Not? Let us rather provide against those Dangers that Watch us, and lie in wait for us. To suffer Shipwreck, or to be Crushed with the Ruin of a House, these are great Misfortunes, but they Seldom Happen. The Deadly, and the hourly danger that threatens Humane Life, is from One Man to Another. Other Calamities do Commonly give us Some Warning: The Smoke gives us notice of a Fire; the Clouds bid us provide for a Storm; but Humane Malice has no Prognostic; and the Nearer it is, ●…he Fairer it Looks. There is no Trust to Countenances; we carry the Shapes of Men, and the Hearts of Beasts. Nay, we are worse than Beasts; for a Beast ●…as only no Reason at all; but the Other is Perverted, and turns his Reason to his Mischief. Beside that, all the Hurt which They do, is out of Fear, or Hunger; but Man takes delight in Destroying his Own Kind. From the Danger we are in from Men, we may Consider our Duty to Them; and take Care that we neither Do, nor Suffer Wrong. It is but Humane, to be Troubled at the Misfortunes of Another, and to Rejoice at his Prosperity. And, it is likewise Prudent, to Bethink ourselves what we are to Do, and what we are to Avoid: by which means we may keep ourselves from being either Harmed, or Deceived. The things that most Provoke One Man to do Hurt to Another, are, Hope, Envy, Hatred, Fear, and Contempt: but, Contempt is the Slightest, Nay, many Men have betaken themselves to it for their Security. There is no doubt, but he that is Contemned, shall be Trod upon; but then his Enemy passes over him as not worth his Anger.   

EPIST. XIII. Every Man is the Artificer of his Own Fortune. Of Justice, and Injustice.  
THe short of the Question betwixt you and me, is This. Whether a Man had better part with Himself, or something else that belongs to him? And, it is Easily Resolved, in all Competitions betwixt the Goods of Sense, and Fortune; and those of Honour, and Conscience. Those things which all Men Covet, are but Specious Outsides; and there's nothing in them of Substantial Satisfaction. Nor is there any thing so Hard, and Terrible in the Contrary, as the Vulgar Imagine; only the word Calamity, has an Ill Reputation in the World: and the very Name is more Grievous than the Thing itself. What have I to Complain of, if I can turn That to a Happiness, which others Count a Misery? A Wise Man either Repels, or Elects, as he sees the Matter before him; without Fearing the Ill which he Rejects, or Admiring what he Chooses. He is never Surprised; but in the midst of Plenty he prepares for Poverty; as a Prudent Prince does for War, in the Depth of Peace. Our Condition is Good enough, if we make the Best on't; and our Felicity is in our own Power. Things that are Adventitious, have no Effect upon him that Studies to make sure of his Happiness within Himself. Every Man should stand upon his Guard against Fortune; and take most heed to himself, when she speaks him Fairest. All the Advantage she gets upon us, is at Unawares; whereas he that is Provided for her, and stands the First Shock, carries the Day. It is not with Common Accidents of Life, as with Fire, and Sword, that Burn, and Cut, all alike; but Misfortunes work more or less, according to the Weakness, or Resolution of the Patient. He that grieves for the Loss of Casual Comforts, shall never want Occasion of Sorrow. We say Commonly, That every Man has his weak side: But, give me leave to tell you, That he that Masters One Vice, may Master all the Rest. He that subdues Avarice, may Conquer Ambition. It is not for Philosophy to Excuse Vices. The Patient has little Hope of Health, when the Physician prescribes Intemperance: Though I know, on the other side, that he that does any thing above the Ordinary, does but set up himself for a Mark to Malevolence, and Envy. Where Laws are Neglected, Corruptions must Inevitably be Introduced: for the Authority of Virtue is Shaken. And what are Laws but only Precepts mingled with Threats? with This Difference, that the Former Deter us from Wickedness, and the Latter Advise us to Virtue. A Preamble, methinks, Derogates from the Honour of a Law, which ought to be Short, and Clear; and to Command, without Suffering any Expostulation. It is a Flat, and an Idle thing, a Law with a Prologue. Let me only be told my Duty, and I am not to Dispute, but to Obey.  
If I have not acquitted myself of my Last Promise to you; know, that in all Promises, there is a Tacite Reserve; If I Can; If I Ought; or if things Continue in the same State: So that by the Change of Circumstances, I am discharged of my Obligation. I know very well the Bonds of Justice; and yet the Practices of the World to the Contrary. There are no greater Exacters of Faith, than the Perfidious; no greater Persecuters of Falsehood, than the Perjurious. He that loves his Neighbour's Wife, and for that very Reason, because she is another Man's, Locks up his Own. The Wickedness of other Men we have always in our Eye, but we cast our own over our Shoulders. A worse Father Chastises a Better Son: He that denies nothing to his Own Luxury, will Pardon Nothing in Another Mans. A Tyrant is offended at Bloodshed; the Sacrilegious Punishes Theft, and the greater part of the World Quarrels rather with the Offender, than with the Offence. It is very Rare, that either the Joy, or the Benefit of an Estate, Injuriously gotten, continues Long. Men go together by the Ears about the Booty, and we pay dear for things of Little Vasue. We live and die, Lugging one another, Breaking one another's Rest, and our Lives are without Fruit, and without Pleasure. Justice is a Natural Principle. I must Live Thus with my Friend, Thus with my Fellow-Citizen, Thus with my Companion. And why? Because 'tis just; not for Design, or Reward: For it is Virtue itself, and nothing Else, that pleases us. There is no Law Extant for keeping the Secrets of a Friend, or for not breaking Faith with an Enemy. And yet there's Just Cause of Complaint, if a Body betrays a Trust. If a Wicked Man call upon me for Money that I owe him; I'll make no Scruple of Pouring it into the Lap of a Common Prostitute, if she be appointed to Receive it. For my Business is to Return the Money, not to Order him how he shall Dispose of it. I must pay it, upon Demand, to a Good Man, when it is Expedient; and to a Bad, when he Calls for't.   

EPIST. XIV. Of Trust in Friendship. Prayer; and Bodily Exercise.  
THere are some People, that if any thing goes Cross with them, though of a quality only fit for the Ear of a Friend; out it goes at a Venture to the next Comer: Others again are so Suspicious, and so obstinately Close, that they will rather Perish, than trust the best Friend they have with it; They are, Both of them, in the Wrong, only the One is the Better-natured Error, and the Other the Safer. Now, as to the Trust of a Friend: there are many Innocent things, which, in their Own Nature, may seem to be Privacies, and which Custom has ever Reputed So; in which Cases, there is place enough for the Offices of Friendship, in the mutual Communication of our most Secret Cares, and Counsels. But yet we are so to govern ourselves, that even an Enemy should not turn our Actions to Reproach. For, an Honest Man lives not to the World, but to his own Conscience. There is a Certain Softness of Nature, and Spirit, that Steals upon a Man, and, like Wine, or Love, ●…raws all things from him. No Man will either Conceal, or Tell, all that he Hears. But he that tells the Thing, will hardly conceal the Author: So that it passes from One to Another; and That which was at first a Secret, does presently become a Rumour. For This, and for many other Reasons, we should set a Watch upon our Lips; and attend the more useful, and necessary Work of Contemplation. The First Petition that we are to make to God Almighty, is for a Good Conscience: The Second, for Health of Mind; and Then, of Body. There are some things which we directly wish for, as Joy, Peace, and the like: Some that we Pray for, only in Case of Necessity: as Patience in Pain, or Sickness, etc. Others, that Concern our External Behaviour, as Modesty of Countenance, Decency of Motion, and such a Demeanour, as may become a Prudent Man. Many things may be Commodious; that is to say, they may be of more Use than Trouble; and yet not Simply Good. Some things we have for Exercise, others for Instruction, and Delight. These things belong to us only as we are Men, but not as we are Good Men. Some things serve to Correct, and Regulate our Manners; Others, to Inquire into the Nature, and Original of them. How shall we know what a Man is to do, if we do not search into his Nature, and find out what is best for him, and what he is to Avoid, and what to Pursue? Humanity not only keeps us from being Proud, and Covetous, but it makes us Affable, and Gentle, in our Words, Actions, and Affections. We have no Precepts from the Liberal Arts, neither for This, nor for Sincerity, Integrity of Manners, Modesty, Frugality; no nor for Clemency itself, That makes us as Tender of Another's Blood, as of our Own, and distinguishes Men in Society, from Beasts of Prey. Some People are ever Complaining of the Iniquity of the Times: But, let no Man depend upon the Goodness of his Cause, but rather upon the Firmness of his Courage; there may be Force, or Bribery I would hope the Best, but prepare for the Worst. What if I have served an Ungrateful Interest, and suffered wrongfully? An Honest Man is more Troubled for the Injustice of a Severe Sentence, than for the Cruelty of it: and that his Country has done an Ill thing; rather than that he himself suffers it. If he be Banished, the shame is not His, but the Authors of it. He Tempers his Delights, and his Afflictions, and says to himself, That if our Joys cannot be Long, neither will our Sorrows. He is Patient in his Own Misfortunes; without Envy at the Advantages of his Neighbour. His Virtue is Bolder, in the Opposition of Ill things, than Tyranny itself can be in the Imposing of them. This is rather to tell you what you do already, than what you should do. Go on, as you have begun, and make haste to be Perfect: But take notice, that the Mind is to be now and then Unbent; a Glass of Wine, a Journey, a Mouthful of Fresh Air relieves it: But then there's a Difference betwixt a Remission, and a Dissolution. Without Exercise a Dull Tumour Invades us; and it is Remarkable, that Men of Brawny Arms, and Broad Shoulders, have commonly Weak Souls. Some Exercises are short, and Gentle; and set the Body Right Presently. But, whatever we do, let us return quickly to the Mind; for That must not lie Idle. A little Labour serves it; and it works in all Seasons: in Summer, Winter, Old Age; Nothing hinders it. And, to make it more Valuable, it is every day better than Other. Not that I would have you perpetually Poring upon a Book neither; but allow yourself seasonable Respites, and to't again. A Couch, or a Walk, does your Body Good, without Interrupting your Study: For you may Discourse, Dictate, Read, Hear, at the same time. Now though the Exercises be Laudable, and Healthful; yet the Masters of them are for the most part of Lewd Example. They divide their Lives betwixt the Tavern, and the Hothouse; and a Swinging Debauch is a good days work with them. But, how apt we are to set Bounds to Others, and none to ourselves; and to Observe their Warts, when our own Bodies are Covered with Ulcers? What is more Ordinary, than for People to Reverence, and Detest the Fortunate, at the same time, even for Doing those things which they themselves would do, if they Could? There might be some Hope of our Amendment, if we would but Confess our Faults; as a Man must be awake that tells his Dream. There are some Diseases which are absolutely Hopeless, and past Cure; but they may yet be Palliated; and Philosophy, if it cannot help in One Case, it may in Another. To a Man in a Fever, a Gentle Remission is a Degree of Health, and it is something, if a Man be not perfectly sound, to be yet more Curable. But, we are loath to be at the Pains of Attending our Own business. We lead the Life in the World, that some Lazy People do in a Market, that stand gaping about them, without either Buying, or Selling. We slip our Opportunities; and if they be not catched in the very Nick, they are Irrecoverably Lost.   

EPIST. XV. The Danger of Flattery; and in what Cases a Man may be allowed to Commend himself.  
Demetrius' was wont to say, That Knavery was the Ready way to Riches; and that the Casting off of Virtue, was the First Step to Thriving in the World. Study but the Art of Flattery, (which is now adays so acceptable, that a Moderate Commendation passes for a Libel.) Study That Art, (I say) and you shall do your Business, without Running any Risque upon the Seas, or any hazards of Merchandizing, Husbandry, or Suits at Law. There is not one Man of a Million that is Proof against an Artificial Flatterer; but something or other will Stick, if we do but give him the Hearing. Nay, we like him well enough, though we shake him off, and the Quarrel is easily Reconciled. We seem to Oppose him, but we do not shut the Door against him; or if we do, it is but as a Mistress will do some time upon her Servant, She would be well enough content to be Hindered; and take it much better yet, to have it broke open. Beside that, a Man lies Commonly most Open where he is attacked. How shamefully are Great Men Fawned upon by their Slaves; and inur'd to Fulsome Praises? When the Only business of those, that call themselves Friends, is to try, who can most Dextrously deceive his Master. For want of knowing their own Strength, they believe themselves as Great, as their Parasites Represent them: And venture upon Broils, and Wars, to their Irreparable Destruction. They break Alliances, and Transport themselves into Passions, which, for want of Better Counsels, hurry them on to Blood, and Confusion. They pursue every wild Imagination as a Certainty, and think it a greater Disgrace to be Bend, than to be Broken. They set up their Rest upon the Perpetuity of a Tottering Fortune, till they come at last to see the Ruin of themselves, and their Possessions; and too late, to Understand, that their Misfortunes, and their Flatteries were of the same Date. There is a Sparing, and a Crafty Flattery, that looks like Plaindealing. But all Flatteries are words of Course, and he that Receives them will give them. Nay▪ let it be never so shameless, a Man takes all to himself, though his very Conscience gives him the Lye. Cruelty shall be Translated Mercy; Extortion and Oppression shall be called Liberality: Lust, and Gluttony, to the Highest Degree in the World, shall be magnified for Temperance. Now, What hope is there of his Changing for the Better, that values himself for the best of Men already? The stroke of an Arrow Convinced Alexander, that he was not the Son of jupiter, but a Mortal Man. And thus, upon the Experiment of Humane Frailty, should every Man say to himself. Am not I sad sometimes, and tortured betwixt Hope and Fear? Do I not Hanker after Vain Pleasures? He that is not yet satisfied, is not so good as he should be. The words of Flatterers, and Parasites seldom Die in the Hearing; and when they have gained admittance, they grow more and more upon you; and shortly they'll tell you, that Virtue, Philosophy, and justice, are but Empty Sounds. Let every Man Live while he may, and make the best of the Present: And not Govern himself at a rate, as if he were to keep a Diary for his Father. What Madness is it, to enrich a Man's Heir, and starve Himself; And to turn a Friend into an Enemy. For, his Joy will be proportioned to what you leave him. Never trouble yourself for these superfluous Censors of other men's Lives, and Enemies of their Own. These Pedagogues of Mankind are not worth your Care. These are the People that draw us from our Parents, and Country, our Friends, and other Necessary Duties.  
I would neither be deceived myself, nor Deceive Others; but, if a Man cannot Live without it, let him Commend himself, and say thus. I have Applied myself to Liberal Studies, though both the Poverty of my Condition, and my own Reason, might rather have put me upon the Making of my Fortune. I have given Proof, that all Minds are Capable of Goodness; and I have Illustrated the Obscurity of my Family, by the Eminency of my Virtue. I have preserved my Faith in All Extremities: and I have ventured my Life for't. I have never Spoken one Word contrary to my Conscience, and I have been more Solicitous for my Friend, than for myself; I never made any Base submissions to any Man; and I have never done any thing Unworthy of a Resolute, and of an Honest Man. My Mind is raised so much above all Dangers, that I have Mastered all Hazards; and I bless myself in the Providence which gave me that Experiment of my Virtue: For, it was not fit, methought, that so great a Glory should come Cheap. Nay, I did not so much as deliberate, whether Good Faith should suffer for Me, or I for it. I stood my Ground, without laying violent hands upon myself, to scape the Rage of the Powerful; though under Caligula I saw Cruelties, to such a Degree, that to be killed outright was accounted a Mercy. And yet I persisted in my Honesty, to show, that I was ready to do more than Dye for't. My Mind was never Corrupted with Gifts, and when the humour of Avarice was at the I never laid my hand upon any Unlawful Gain; I have been Temperate in my Diet; Modest in my Discourse; Courteous and Affable to my Inferiors, And I have ever paid a Respect, and Reverence to my Betters. After all; what I have said, is either True, or False; If True, I have Commended myself before a Great Witness, my own Conscience; If False, I am Ridiculous, without any Witness at all. Let every Man retire into himself; For the Old, the Young, Men, Women, and Children, they are all Wicked. Not every One only, or a Few, But there is a General Conspiracy in Evil. We should therefore Fly the World, withdraw into ourselves; and in some sort avoid even ourselves too.   

EPIST. XVI. A General Dissolution of Manners; With a Censure of Corrupt Magistrates?  
THe Corruption of the Present Times, is the General Complaint of all Times; It ever has been so, and it ever will be so: Not considering that the Wickedness of the World is always the same, as to the Degree of it; though it may Change Places perhaps, and vary a little in the Matter. One while Whoring is in Fashion; Another while Gluttony: To day, Excess in Apparel; and more care of the Body, than of the Mind: To morrow comes up the Humour of Scoffing; and after That, perchance, a Vein of Drinking; when he shall be accounted the Bravest Man, that makes himself the veriest Beast. This Prostitute Looseness of Manners, makes way for Sedition, and Cruelty. Under Tiberius, the Plague of your Delatores, or Informers, was worse than any Civil War. It was an Age, wherein the Words of Men, in their Cups; the most Innocent Railleries'▪ and Ingenious Freedoms of Conversation, were made Capital. When it was Dangerous to be Honest, and only Profitable to be Vicious. And not only Ill Things, but Vice itself was both Commended, and Preferred: For all Insolences, when they come to be Exemplary, they pretend to be Lawful. Authority in Sin, is an Incentive to it: And, it is at least an Excuse, if not a Warrant, to Transgress, after Great Example. Beside that, we are prone enough to do Amiss, even of ourselves, without either a Leader, or a Companion. But, it is a Malevolent sort of Comfort, that which Men take in the Number of the Wicked.  
The worst of all is This; that whereas in Other Cases the People are Ashamed of their Errors, in That of Life, they are Delighted with them, and so become Incurable. The Pilot takes no pleasure in Running upon a Rock; nor the Physician in the Death of his Patient; nor the Advocate in the Loss of his Clients Cause. But, on the other side, the Criminal Rejoices in his Uncleanness, in his Ambition, and in his Theft; and never troubles himself for the Fault, but for the Miscarriage. He makes Infamy the Reward of Lewdness, and values himself upon his Excellency in Ill-doing. The Question is, who shall be most Impious; we have every day, Worse Appetites, and Less Shame. Sobriety, and Conscience, are become Foolish, and Scandalous things; and, it is half the Relish of our Lusts, that they are committed in the Face of the Sun. Innocency is not only Rare, but Lost: And Mankind is entered into a Sort of Confederacy against Virtue. To say nothing of Intestine Wars; Fathers, and Sons, in League against one another; Poisoned Fountains, Troops in search of the Banished, and Proscribed, Prisons crammed with Worthy Men, Cities Demolished; Rape, and Adultery Authorised; Public Perjuries, and Frauds; a Violation of Common Faith; and all the Bonds of Humane Society Cancelled. Adultery is the ready way to Wedlock; and Marriage, to a Single Life again; For, Parting, is One Condition of it. For, They Divorce, to Mary; and they Mary to be Divorced. That which they often talk, and hear of, they easily do. What shame can there be of Incontinence, when Modesty is become a Reproach; and when it is the Mode for every Wife to provide herself a Gallant or two, beside her Husband? 'Tis an Idle thing to think of ever converting those People, that find both Advantage, and Reputation in their Wickedness.  
Would any Man ever have Imagined, that Clodius should have come off by Bribery, for Debauching the Wife of Caesar, and profaning the Public Vows for the Safety of the People? But, the Judges were Corrupted; and not only with Money, but with the Bodies of Young Men, and Women; So that his Absolution was fouler than his Crime; The Bribe was Adultery, as well as the Offence; and he had no way to be Safe, till he had made his Judges like himself. Name the Woman you have a Mind to (says he) and you shall have her. And when you have Committed the Sin, Condemn it if you dare. Appoint the Time, and the Place, and she shall be ready for you; Nay, the Practice was so gross, that the Bench desired a Guard of the Senate, to secure them from the People. Before the Sentence was given, he was an Adulterer; in the Menage of the Cause, he was a Pander, and his way of Escaping Punishment, was Fouler than the Offence that Deserved it. A Lust, that spared not the Altar, and perverted Justice upon the very Seat of Judgement. The Question was, Whether any Adulterer should scape Unpunished; and the Resolution was; That, without being an Adulterer, he could not be secure. Nor is it likely, that their Conversation was one Jote honester than their Sentence: These things have been done, and will be done. Discipline, and Fear, may Restrain the Licence of the People, but, it is not to be thought, that they will ever be Good of their own Accord. But, let us not yet speak of Luxury, and Dissolution, as the Vices of the Age, which, in truth, are only the Vices of the Men. The Practices of our times are Moderate, compared with those, when the Delinquent pleaded Not Guilty to the Bench, and the Bench confessed itself Guilty to the Delinquent; and when one Adultery was excused by Another. In those days it passed for Great Piety, not to be very Impious. He that Gave most, Carried the Cause; and 'tis but according to the Laws of Nations, for him that Buys, to Sell. And, it is to be Noted, that a Man may be as Covetous of Getting, what he intends to squander away, as if he were to hoard it up. The Contempt of Poverty in Others, and the Fear of it in ourselves. Unmerciful Oppressions, and Mercenary Magistrates, are the Common Grievances of a Licentious Government. The Baths, and the Theatres, are Crowded, when the Temples, and the Schools are Empty; for Men mind their Pleasures, more than their Manners. All Vices gain upon us by the Promise of Reward; Avarice Promises Money; Luxury Sensual Satisfactions; Ambition promises Preferment, and Power. And it is no excuse to say, that a Man is not Very Covetous; a Little Ambitious, Choleric, Inconstant, Lustful; and the Like. He had better have one Great Vice, than a Spice of all Little ones. We say Commonly, that a Fool has all Sorts of Vices in him; that is to say, he is Free from none: But they do not all Appear; and he is more Prone to One, than to Another. One is given to Avarice; Another to Luxury; a Third to Wantonness; But we are not yet to ask the Stoics, if Achilles be a Coward; Aristides, Unjust; Fabius, Rash; Mucius, a Traitor; Camillus, a Deserter. We do not say, that all Vices are in all Men, as some are in Some Particulars.   

EPIST. XVII. The Original of all Men, is the Same; and Virtue is the only Nobility. There is a Tenderness due to Servants.  
IT is not well done, to be still murmuring against Nature, and Fortune, as if it were Their Unkindness that makes You Inconsiderable, when it is only by your Own Weakness that you make yourself So: For it is Virtue, not P●…degree, that renders a Man either Valuable, or Happy. Philosophy does not either Reject, or Choose any Man for his Quality. Socrates was no Patrician; Cleanthes, but an Under Gardener; Neither did Plato Dignify Philosophy by his Birth, but by his Goodness. All these Worthy Men are our Progenitors; if we will but do ourselves the Honour to become their Disciples. The Original of all Mankind was the Same; and, it is only a Clear Conscience, that makes any Man Noble: For, That derives even from Heaven itself. It is the Saying of a Great Man, That if we could trace our Descents, we should find all Slaves to come from Princes, and all Princes from Slaves. But Fortune has turned all things Topsy-Turvy, in a long Story of Revolutions. It is most Certain, that our Beginning had nothing Before it; and our Ancestors were some of them Splendid, others Sordid, as it happened. We have lost the Memorials of our Extraction, and, in truth, it matters not whence we Came, but whither we Go. Nor is it any more to our Honour, the Glory of our Predecessors, than it is to Their Shame, the Wickedness of their Posterity. We are all of us composed of the Same Elements; why should we then value ourselves upon our Nobility of Blood, as if we were not all of us Equal, if we could but recover our Evidence? But, when we can carry it no farther, the Herald provides us some Hero to supply the Place of an Illustrious Original; and there's the Rise of Arms, and Families. For a Man to spend his Life in pursuit of a Title, that serves only when he dies, to furnish out an Epitaph, is below a Wise Man's Business.  
It pleases me Exceedingly, to understand by all that come out of your Quarters, that you demean yourself humanely, and tenderly toward your Servants. It is the Part of a Wise, and of a Good Man, to deal with his Inferior, as he would have his Superior deal with him: For Servants are not only Men, but a kind of Humble Friends; and Fortune has no more Power over Them, than over their Masters: And he that duly considers, how many Servants have come to be Masters, and how many Masters to be Servants, will lay no great Stress of Argument, either upon the One, or upon the Other. Some use their Servants worse than Beasts, in Slavish Attendances, betwixt their Drink, and their Lusts: Some are brought up only to Carve, others to Season; and all to serve the Turns of Pomp, and Luxury. Is it not a Barbarous Custom, to make it almost Capital, for a Servant only to Cough, Sneeze, Sigh, or but wag his Lips, while he is in waiting; and, to keep him the whole Night, Mute, and Fasting? Yet so it comes to pass, that they that dare not speak Before their Masters, will not forbear talking Of them; and those, on the other side, that were allowed a modest Freedom of Speech in their Master's Entertainments, were most obstinately silent upon the Torture, rather than they would betray them. But we live, as if a Servant were not made of the same Materials with his Master, or to Breath the same Air, or to Live, and Dye, under the Same Conditions. It is worthy of Observation, that the most Imperious Masters over their own Servants, are, at the same time, the most Abject Slaves to the Servants of other Masters. I will not distinguish a Servant by his Office, but by his Manners: The One is the work of Fortune, the Other of Virtue. But, we look only to his Quality, and not to his Merit. Why should not a Brave Action rather Dignify the Condition of a Servant, than the Condition of a Servant Lessen a Brave Action? I would not value a Man for his clothes, or Degree, any more than I would do a Horse for his Trappings. What if he be a Servant? show me any Man that is not so; to his Lusts, his Avarice, his Ambition, his Palate, to his Quean; nay, to other men's Servants; and we are all of us Servants to Fear: Insolent we are, many of us, at Home; Servile, and Despised Abroad; and none are more Liable to be trampled upon, than those that have gotten a habit of Giving Affronts, by Suffering them. What matters it how many Masters we have, When 'tis but One Slavery? And, whosoever Contemns That, is perfectly Free, let his Masters be never so Many. That Man is only Free, not whom Fortune has a Little Power over, but over whom she has none at all: Which State of Liberty is an Inestimable Good, when we desire Nothing, that is either Superfluous, or Vicious. They are Asses that are made for Burden, and not the Nobler sort of Horses. In the Civil Wars betwixt Caesar, and Pompey, the Question was not, who should be Slaves, or Free, but who should be Master. Ambition is the same thing in Private, that it is in Public; and the Duties are Effectually the same, betwixt the Master of a Kingdom, and the Master of a Family. As I would treat some Servants kindly, Because they are Worthy; and Others, to make them so; so on the Other side, I would have a Servant to Reverence his Master; and rather to Love him, than Fear him. Some there are, that think this too little for a Master, though it is all that we pay even to God himself. The Body of a servant may be bought, and sold; but his Mind is Free.   

EPIST. XVIII. We are juster to Men, than to God: Of Life, and Death, of Good, and Evil.  
IT is without Dispute, that the Loss of a Friend is one of the greatest Trials of Humane Frailty; and no Man is so much exalted above the sense of that Calamity, as not to be affected with it. And yet if a Man bears it Bravely, they cry, he has no Sense of Piety, or Good Nature in him; if he sink under it, they call him Effeminate: so that he lies both ways under a Reproach. But, What's the Ground of your Trouble, I beseech you, but that he might have Lived Longer, in respect of his years; and, in effect, that he ought to have done so, in regard of his Usefulness to the World? I cannot but wonder to see, that a Person so Just, and so Temperate in all his Dealings with Men, and in Business, should so exceedingly forget himself in This Point. But you have in Excuse of this Error, the Failings of the whole World with you for Company. For even those that are the most scrupulously Conscientious toward Men, are yet Unthankful, and Injurious to Providence.  
It is not the Number of Days that makes a Life Long, but the Full Employment of them, upon the main End, and Purpose of Life; which is, the Perfecting of the Mind, in making a Man the Absolute Master of Himself. Ireckon the Matter of Age among External things, the main point is to Live, and Die, with Honor. Every Man that Lives, is upon the way, and must go through with his Journey, without stopping, till he comes at the End: And wheresoever it ends, if it ends well, it is a Perfect Life. There is an Invincible Fate, that attends all Mortals; and, one Generation is condemned to tread upon the Heels of another. Take away from Life, the Power of Death, and 'tis a slavery. As Caligula was passing upon the way, an Old man that was a Prisoner, and with a Beard down to his Girdle, made it his request to Caesar, that he might be put to death. Why, says Caesar to him, are you not dead already? So that you see Some Desire it, as well as others Fear it: And why not? When it is one of the Duties of Life, to Die. And it is one of the Comforts of it too: For the Living are under the Power of Fortune, but she has no Dominion at all over the Dead. How can Life be Pleasant to any Man, that is not prepared to part with it? Or what Loss can be easier to us, than that which can never be Missed; or Desired again? I was brought by a Defluxion into a hopeless Consumption; and I had it many times in my Thought to Deliver myself from a Miserable Life, by a Violent Death. But the Tenderness I had for an Aged, and Indulgent Father, held my hand; for, thought I to myself, it will be very hard for my Father to be without me, though I could most willingly part with myself. In the Case of a Particular Disease, a Physician may propound a Remedy; but the only Remedy for all Diseases, is the Contempt of Death. (Though I know too, that it is the business of a Long Life, to Learn That Lesson.)  
Oh! The Happiness of distinguishing Good from Evil, in the Works of Providence! But, in stead of raising our Thoughts to the Contemplation of Divine Matters, and enquiring into the Original, the State, and the Appointed Issue of Created Nature; we are digging of the Earth, and serving of our Avarice; Neglecting all the good things that are so frankly offered us. How great a Folly and Madness is it, for Men that are Dying, and in the hands of Death already, to extend their Hopes, and to carry their Ambition, and Desires to the Grave, Unsatisfied? For, whosoever is tainted with those Hydroptick Appetites, can never have enough, either of Money, or Power. It is a Remarkable thing, that among those that place their Happiness in Sense, they are the most miserable that seem to be happiest. The Riches of Nature are the most precious Treasures. What has any Man to desire more, than to keep himself from Cold, Hunger, and Thirst? It is not the Quantity, but the Opinion, that Governs in this Case; That can never be Little, which is Enough: Nor does any Man account That to be Much, which is too Little. The Benefits of Fortune are so far Comfortable to us, as we enjoy them without losing the Possession of ourselves. Let us Purge our Minds, and follow Nature; we shall otherwise be still either Fearing, or Craving, and Slaves to Accidents. Not that there is any Pleasure in Poverty; but it is a great Felicity for a Man to bring his Mind to be contented even in That State, which Fortune itself cannot make worse. Methinks our Quarrels with Ambition, and Profitable Employments, are somewhat like those we have with our Mistresses; we do not Hate them, but Wrangle with them. In a word; betwixt those things which are Sought, and Coveted, and yet Complained of; and those things which we have Lost, and pretend that we cannot live without, our Misfortunes are purely Voluntary: and we are Servants, not so much by Necessity, as by Choice. No Man can be Happy, that is not Free, and Fearless: And no Man can be so, but he, that by Philosophy has got the better of Fortune. In what Place soever we are; we shall find ourselves beset with the Miseries of Humane Nature: Some, Without us; that either Encompass us, Deceive us, or Force us: Others, Within us; that eat up our very Hearts, in the Middle of Solitude. And it is not yet, as we imagine, that Fortune has Long Arms; She meddles with no body, that does not first lay hold upon Her. We should keep a Distance therefore, and withdraw into the Knowledge of Nature, and of ourselves. We Understand the Original of things; the Order of the World, the Circulation of the Seasons, the Courses of the Stars, and that the whole Frame of the Universe (only the Earth excepted) is but a Perpetual Motion. We know the Causes of Day, and Night; of Light, and of Darkness; but it is at a distance: Let us direct our Thoughts then to That Place, where we shall see all nearer Hand. And, it is not This Hope neither, that makes a Wise Man Resolute at the Point of Death, because Death lies in his way to Heaven; For, the Soul of a Wise Man is there beforehand: Nay, if there were nothing after Death, to be either Expected, or Feared, he would yet leave this World with as great a Mind, though he were to pass into a State of Annihilation. He that reckons every hour his Last; a Day, or an Age, is all one to him. Fate is doing our Work while we Sleep; Death steals upon us Insensibly; and the more Insensibly, because it passes under the name of Life. From Childhood we grow up, without perceiving it, to Old Age; and this Increase of our Life, duly considered, is a Diminution of it. We take Death to be Before us; but it is Behind us; and has already swallowed up all that is past. Wherefore, make use of the Present; and trust nothing to the Morrow; for Delay is just so much time lost. We catch hold of Hopes, and Flatteries, of a little longer Life; as Drowning Men do upon Thorns, or Straws, that either Hurt us, or Deceive us. You will ask, perhaps, what I do myself, that Preach at this Rate. Truly I do like some ill Husbands, that spend their Estates, and yet keep their Accounts: I run out; but yet I can tell which way it goes. And, I have the Fate of Ill Husbands too, another way; for every Body Pities me, and no Body Helps me. The Soul is never in the Right place, so long as it fears to quit the Body. Why should a Man trouble himself to extend Life, which, at Best, is a kind of Punishment; And, at Longest, amounts to very little more, than Nothing? He is Ungrateful, that takes the Period of Pleasure for an Injury; and he is Foolish, that knows no Good, but the Present. Nay, there are some Courses of Life, which a Man ought to quit, though with Life itself: As the Trade of Killing Others, in stead of Learning to Die, Himself. Life itself is neither Good, nor Evil; but only a Place for Good, and Evil. It is a kind of Tragicomedy. Let it be well Acted, and no matter whether it be Long, or Short. We are apt to be miss by the Appearances of things; and when they come to us, recommended in Good Terms, and by Great Example, they will impose many times upon very Wise Men. The Mind is never Right; but when it is at peace within itself, and Independent upon any thing from Abroad. The Soul is in Heaven, even while it is in the Flesh; if it be purged of Natural Corruptions, and taken up with Divine Thoughts: And, whether any body sees us, or takes notice of us, it matters not. Virtue will of itself break forth, though never so much pains be taken to suppress it. And it is all one, whether it be known, or no: But After Ages however will do us Right; when we are Dead, and Insensible of the Veneration they allow us. He that is wise, will compute the Conditions of Humanity; and contract the Subject both of his Joys, and Fears. And it is time well spent, so to Abate of the One, that he may likewise Diminish the Other. By this Practice he will come to understand, how short, how uncertain, and how safe, many of those things are, which we are wont to Fear. When I see a Splendid House, or a glittering Train, I look upon it, as I do upon Courts, which are only the Schools of Avarice, and Ambition; and they are at best but a Pomp, which is more for Show, than Possession. Beside that, Great Goods are seldom Long-lived; and That is the Fairest Felicity, which is of the shortest Growth.   

EPIST. XIX. Of True Courage.  
FOrtitude is (properly) the Contempt of all Hazards, according to Reason; though it be commonly, and promiscuously used also, for, a Contempt of all Hazards, even Without, or Against Rea-Reason: Which is rather a Daring, and a Brutal Fierceness, than an Honourable Courage. A Brave Man fears Nothing more than the Weakness of being affected with Popular Glory. His Eyes are not Dazzled, either with Gold, or Steel; he tramples upon all the Terrors, and Glories of Fortune; he looks upon himself as a Citizen, and Soldier of the World, and, in despite of all Accidents, and Oppositions, he maintains his Station. He does not only Suffer, but Court the most Perilous Occasions of Virtue, and those Adventures which are most Terrible to Others: for he values himself upon Experiment; and is more Ambitious of being reputed Good, than Happy. Mucius Lost his hand with more Honour, than he could have Preserved it: He was a greater Conqueror Without it, than he could have been With it: For with the very Stump of it, he overcame two Kings, Tarquin, and Porsenna. Rutilia followed Cotta into Banishment; she stayed, and she returned with him too; and soon after, she Lost him, without so much as shedding a Tear: a Great Instance of her Courage, in his Banishment, and of her Prudence, in his Death. This (says Epicurus) is the Last, and the Blessedest day of my Life; when he was ready to Expire in an extreme torment of the Stone. It is never said of the 300 Fabii, that they were Overcome, but that they were Slain; Nor of Regulus, that he was Vanquished by the Carthaginians, but that he was Taken. The Spartans' prohibited all Exercises where the Victory was declared by the Voice, and Submission, of him that was worsted. When Phaeton begged of Phoebus the Government of the Chariot of the Sun for one day, the Poet makes him so far from being Discouraged by his Father's telling him of the Danger of the Undertaking, and how he himself had much ado to keep his Seat for Fear, when he looked down from the Meridian, that it proved a Spur to his Importunity. That's the thing (says Phaeton) that I would be at; to stand Firm in That difficulty, where Phoebus himself Trembles. Security is the Caution of Narrow Minds. But, as Fire tries Gold, so does Difficulty, and Hazard try Virtuous Men. Not but that he may be as Valiant that Watches upon the Tower as he that fights upon his Knees; only the One has had the good Fortune of an Occasion for the Proof of his Resolution. As some Creatures are Cruel; Others Crafty, and some Timorous; so Man is endued with a Glorious, and an Excellent Spirit, that prompts him, not so much to regard a Safe Life, as an Honest. Providence has made him the Master of this Lower World; and he reckons it his Duty to Sacrifice his Own Particular to the Advantage of the Whole. And yet there is a vast Difference, even in the same Action done by a Brave Person, and by a Stupid: as the Death of Cato was Honourable; but that of Brutus was Shameful. Nor is it Death itself that we recommend for Glorious; but it is a glorious thing to Die as we Ought. Neither is it Poverty, Banishment, or Pain, that we commend; but the Man that behaves himself Bravely under those Afflictions. How were the Gladiators Contemned, that called for Quarter? And those on the other side Favoured, that Despised it. Many a Man saves his Life, by not fearing to Lose it; and, Many a Man Loses his Life, for being over-solicitous to save it. We are many times afraid of Dying by One thing, and we come to Die by Another. As for Example; we are Threatened by an Enemy, and we Dye by a Pleurisy. The Fear of Death enlarges all other things that we Fear. To Bear it with Constancy, we should Compute, that whether our Lives be long, or short, it comes all to a Point; Some Hours we lose: What if they were Days, Months, Years? What matters it if I never Arrive at that which I must certainly Part with when I have it. Life is but one Point of Flying Time; and, that which is to come, is no more Mine, than that which is Past. And, we have this for our Comfort too, that whosoever now Fears Death, will, some time or other come to Wish it. If Death be Troublesome, or Terrible; the Fault is in us, and not in Death itself. It is as great a Madness for a Man to Fear that which he is not to Feel, as that which he is not to Suffer. The Difference lies in the Manner of Dying, and not in the Issue of Death itself. 'Tis a more Inglorious Death to be Smothered with Perfumes, than to be torn to pieces with Pincers. Provided my Mind be not Sick, I shall not much heed my Body. I am Prepared for my last Hour, without tormenting myself when it will come. It is betwixt the Stoics and other Philosophers, as betwixt Men, and Women. They are Both, Equally, Necessary for Society; only the one is Born for Government, and the other for Subjection. Other Sects deal with their Disciples, as Plausible Physicians do with their Patients; they Flatter, and Humour them; whereas the Stoics go a Bolder way to work; and consider rather their Profit, than their Pleasure.   

EPIST. XX. 'Tis never too Late to Learn. The Advantages of a Private Life; and the Slavery of a Public. The Ends of Punishment.  
LEt no Man presume to advise Others, that has not first given Good Counsel to himself: And he may, Then, pretend to help his Neighbour. It is, in short, as hard a matter to Give Good Counsel, as to Take it: Let it however be agreed, betwixt the Two Parties, that the One designs to Confer a Benefit, and the Other, to Receive it. Some People Scorn to be Taught: Others are Ashamed of it, as they would be of going to School when they are Old: But, it is never too late to Learn, what it is always Necessary to Know; And, it is no Shame to Learn, so long as we are Ignorant; that is to say, so long as we Live. When any thing is Amiss in our Bodies, or Estates, we have Recourse presently to the Physician, or the Lawyer, for Help: And why not to the Philosopher in the Disorders of our Mind? No Man Lives, but he that applies himself to Wisdom; for he takes into his own Life the Supplement of all Past Ages. 'Tis a Fair Step toward Happiness, and Virtue, to Delight in the Conversation of Good, and of Wise Men: And where That cannot be had, the next point is, to keep no Company at all. Solitude affords Business enough; and the Entertainment is Comfortable, and Easie. Whereas Public Offices are Vexatious, and Restless. There's a great Difference betwixt a Life of Leisure, and of Lazyness. When People will Express their Envy of a Man in a Happy Condition; they'll say, He lives at his Ease. When, in truth, the Man is Dead; Alive. There is a Long Life, and there is a Long Death: The Former, when we enjoy the Benefits of a Right Mind; and the Other, when the Senses are Extinguished; and the Body Dead beforehand. He that makes me the Master of my Own Time, and places me in a State of Freedom, lays a great Obligation upon me. As a Merchant, that has a Considerable Fortune Aboard, is more sensible of the Blessing of a Fair Wind, and a Safe Passage, than he that has only Ballast, or some Course Commodity in the Vessel: So, That Man that employs his Privacy upon Thoughts Divine, and Precious, is more sensible of the Comfort of that Freedom, than he that bends his Meditations an Ill way. For, he considers all the Benefits of his Exemption from Common Duties, he enjoys himself with Infinite Delight, and makes his Gratitude Answerable to his Obligations. He is the best of Subjects, and the Happiest of Men; and he lives to Nature, and to himself. Most Men are to Themselves, the worst Company they can keep. If they be Good, Quiet, and Temperate, they are as good Alone, as in Company: But, if otherwise, let them converse with Others, and Avoid themselves: But, he that has made himself good Company, can never be too much alone. Many a Ship is lost in the Harbour, but more in the Ocean; as many an Honest Man is Condemned, but more Guilty. This however, is Certain. He that cannot secure himself in Privacy, shall be much more exposed in Public. That which the World calls Felicity, is Greedy, itself, and exposed to the Greediness of Others. Prosperity, like a Fair Gale upon a Strong Current, carries a Man, in a Trice, out of the very fight of Peace, and Quiet; and i●… it be not Tempered, and Regulated, it is so far from Easing us, that it proves an Oppression to us. A busy, and a Fortunate Man in the World, calls many Men his Friends, that are at most but his Guests. And, if People flock to it, 'tis but as they do to a Fountain, which they both exhaust, and trouble.  
What greater slavery can there be, than that of Princes, in this very Respect, that they are Chained to their Post; and cannot make themselves less: All their Words, and Actions are descanted upon, and made Public Discourse; and there are many things allowable to a Private Man, that are not fit for a Governor. I can walk Alone, where I please; without a Sword, without Fear, and without Company: whereas a Prince must be Armed in Peace, and cannot, with Dignity, quit his Guards. Fortune has him in Custody. A Train besets him wherever he goes; and there's no making of an Escape. He is little better than nailed to his Place, and it is the Perfection of his Misery, that he cannot go less. He can no more Conceal himself, than the Sun in the Firmament; whereas his Subjects may Go and Come, change Habits, and Humour, without being taken Notice of. Servitude is the Fate of Palaces. The Splendour of a Crown draws all men's Eyes upon it. When Caesar speaks, the whole World hears his Voice, and trembles at his Displeasure; and where it falls, it shakes whatsoever is near it. His Lips are the Oracles of the People; and Government is the Cement that Binds them together. But still he that is Master of Many, is the Servant yet of More The Power, 'tis true, of all things, belongs to the Prince; but the Propriety to Particular Persons. And the same thing may be both Yours, and mine, in Several Respects. We cannot say that a Son, or a Servant has Nothing, because a master, or a father may take it away if he will; or that he cannot Give Willingly, because they may hinder it; whether he will, or no. This is Power, and true Dominion, not to Rule, and Command, when we may do it if we please. The Strength of a Prince is in the Love of his People; For there is nothing so great, but it must itself perish, when it is become the Common Safety that it should be so. Tyrant's are Hated, because they are Feared; and because they are Hated, they will be Feared. They are rendered Odious to Posterity; and they had better never have been born, than to stand upon Record for the Plagues of Mankind. Miserable is that People, where their very Keepers are their Executioners. And, it is not an Armed Tyranny neither, but the Unarmed Vices of Avarice, and Envy, that we ought to be most afraid of. Some will not endure to have their Vices touched, but will shrink, and struggle under the Operation, as if they were under the hand of a Surgeon. But, this shall not hinder me from Lancing, and Probing, because of the Cries, and Groans of the Patient. Every Man should have a Monitor at his Elbow, to keep him from Avarice, by showing him how Rich a Man may be with a Little: From Ambition, by representing the Disquiets, and Hazards that accompany Greatness; which makes him as great a Burden to Others, as he is to Himself. When it comes to That once; Fear, Anxiety, and Weariness, make us Philosophers. A Sickly Fortune produces wholesome Counsels; and we reap this Fruit from our Adversity, that it brings us at last to Wisdom.  
Now, though Clemency in a Prince be so necessary, and so Profitable a Virtue; and Cruelty so dangerous an Excess; it is yet the Office of a Governor, as of the Master of an Hospital, to keep Sick, and Mad Men in Order. And, in Cases of Extremity, the very Member is to be cut off with the Ulcer. All Punishment is either for Amendment, or for Example, or that Others may live more Secure. What is the End of Destroying those Poisonous, and Dangerous Creatures, which are never to be reclaimed, but to prevent Mischief? And yet there may be as much Hazard in doing too Much, as too Little. A Particular Mutineer may be punished; but when the whole Army is in a Revolt, there must be a General Pardon. The Multitude of Offenders, is their Security, and Protection: For there's no Quarrelling with a Public Vice, where the Custom of Offending takes away the Shame of it; and it is not Prudent neither, by many Punishments, to show a City, that the Wicked are so much the Major Part: Beside that, it is as great a Dishonour for a Prince to have many Executions, as for a Physician to have many Funerals. Shall a Father Disinherit a Son for the First Offence? Let him first Admonish, then Threaten, and afterward Punish him. So long as there is Hope, we should apply gentle Remedies. But, some Nations are Intractable, and neither Willing to Serve, nor Fit to Command; And, some Persons are Incorrigible too.   

EPIST. XXI. The Two Blessings of Life are, a Sound Body; and a Quiet Mind. The Extravag●…nce of the Roman Luxury. The Moderation, and Simplicity of Former Times.  
EPicurus makes the Two Blessings of Life, to be a Sound Body, and a Quiet Mind: Which is only a Compendious Reduction of Humane Felicity to a State of Health, and of Virtue. The way to be Happy is to make Vice, not only Odious, but Ridiculous; and every Man to mind his own Business; for he that Torments himself for other People's Misfortunes, shall never be at Rest. A Virtuous Life must be all of a Piece; and not advance by Starts, and Intervals; and then to go on where it Left; for this is Losing of Ground. We are to press, and persevere, for the main difficulties are yet to come. If I discontinue my Course, when shall I come to pronounce these words? I am a Conqueror: Not a Conqueror of Barbarous Enemies, and Savage Nations; but I have subdued Avarice, Ambition, and those Lusts, that have subjected even the greatest of Conquerors. Who was a Greater than Alexander? that extended his Empire from Thracia, to the Utmost bounds of the East: But yet he Burnt Persepolis at the request of a Prostitute, to gratify his Lust. He overcame Darius, and slew many Thousands of the Persians; but yet he Murdered Calisthenes. And that single Blot has Ternished all the Glory of all his Victories, All the wishes of Mortals, and all the Benefits which we can either Give, or Receive, are of very little Conducement to a Happy Life. Those things which the Common People gape after, are Transitory and Vain. Whereas Happiness is Permanent; Nor is it to be Estimated by Number, Measure, or Parts: For it is Full, and Perfect. I do not speak, as if I myself were arrived at that Blessed State of Repose: But, it is something yet to be on the Mending hand. It is with me, as with a Man that's Creeping out of a Disease; he Feels yet some Grudge of it, he is every Foot Examining of his Pulse; and suspects every Touch or Heat to be a Relic of his Fever. Just at That rate, am I jealous of myself. The best Remedy that I know in this Case, is to go on with Confidence, and not to be miss by the Errors of Other People. It is with our Manners, as with our Healths; 'tis a Degree of Virtue, the Abatement of Vice, as it is a Degree of Health, the Abatement of a Fit.  
Some Place their Happiness in Wealth; Some in the Liberty of the Body; and Others in the Pleasures of the Sense, and Palate. But, What are Metals, Tastes, Sounds, or Colours, to the Mind of a Reasonable Creature? He that sets his Heart upon Riches, the very Fear of Poverty will be grievous to him. He that's Ambitious, shall be galled with Envy at any Man that gets before him: For, in that Case, he that is not First, is Last. I do not speak against Riches neither: For if they hurt a Man, 'tis his Own Folly. They may be indeed the Cause of Mischief; as they are a Temptation to those that do it. In stead of Courage, they may Inspire us with Arrogance; and, in stead of Greatness of Mind, with Insolence; which is in truth but the Counterfeit of Magnanimity. What is it to be a Prisoner, and in Chains? It is no more than that Condition to which many Princes have been Reduced; and out of which, Many Men have been Advanced to the Authority of Princes. 'Tis not to say, I have no Master; In time you may have one. Might not Hecuba, Croesus, and the Mother of Darius have said as much? And where's the Happiness of Luxury either; when a Man divides his Life betwixt the Kitchen, and the Stews; betwixt an Anxious Conscience, and a Nauseous Stomach? Caligula, who was born to show the World what mischief might be done by a Concurrence of Great Wickedness, and a Great Fortune. Spent near 10 000 l. Sterling upon a Supper. The Works, and Inventions of it are Prodigious, not only in the Counterfeiting of Nature, but even in Surpassing it. The Romans had their Brooks even in their Parlours; and found their Dinners under their Tables. The Mullet was reckoned stale, unless it died in the Hand of the Guest: And they had their Glasses to put them into, that they might the better observe all the Changes, and Motions of them in the Last Agony betwixt Life, and Death. So that they fed their Eyes, before their Bodies. Look how it Reddens, says one, there's no Vermilion like it. Take notice of these Veins; and that same grey brightness upon the Head of it. And now he is at's Last Gasp: See how Pale he turns, and all of a Colour. These people would not have given themselves half this trouble with a Dying Friend; Nay, they would leave a Father, or a Brother, at his Last Hour, to entertain themselves with the Barbarous Spectacle of an expiring Fish. And that which enhances the Esteem of every thing, is the Price of it: Insomuch, that Water itself, which ought to be Gratuitous, is exposed to Sale, in their Conservatories of Ice, and Snow. Nay, we are troubled that we cannot buy Breath, Light; and that we have the Air itself Gratis. As if our Condition were Evil, because Nature has left something to us in Common. But Luxury contrives ways to set a Price upon the most Necessary, and Communicable Benefits in Nature: Even those Benefits, which are Free to Birds, and Beasts, as well as to Men; and serve Indifferently for the Use of the most Sluggish Creatures. But, How comes it that Fountain Water is not Cold enough to Serve us, unless it be bound up into Ice? So long as the Stomach is Sound, Nature discharges her Functions without Trouble: But, when the Blood comes to be inflamed with Excess of Wine, or Meats, Simple Water is not Cold Enough to Allay that Heat; and we are forced to make use of Remedies, which Remedies themselves are Vices. We heap Suppers upon Dinners, and Dinners upon Suppers, without Intermission. Good God How easy is it to quench a Sound, and an Honest Thirst? But, when the Palate is grown Callous, we Taste nothing; and that which we take for Thirst, is only the Rage of a Fever. Hypocrates delivered it as an Aphorism, that Women were, never Balled, nor Gouty, but in one Singular Case. Women have not altered their Natures since, but they have Changed the Course of their Lives; for, by taking the Liberties of Men, they partake as well of their Diseases, as of their Wickedness. They sit up as much, Drink as much; nay, in their very Appetites they are Masculine too; they have lost the Advantages of their Sex, by their Vices.  
Our Ancestors, when they were Free, lived either in Caves, or in Arbours: But Slavery came in with ●…ildings, and with Marble. I would have him that comes into my House, take more Notice of the Master, then of the Furniture. The Golden Age was before Architecture: Arts came in with Luxury, and we do not hear of any Philosopher that was either a Locksmith, or a Painter. Who was the Wiser Man, think you? he that Invented a Saw, or the Other; who, upon seeing a Boy drink Water out of the Hollow of his Hand, Broke his Pitcher: with this Check to himself; What a Fool am I to trouble myself with Superfluities? Carving is one Man's Trade; Cooking is Another's: Only he is more miserable that teaches it for Pleasure, than he that learns it for Necessity. It was Luxury, not Philosophy, that Invented Fish-Pools, as well as Palaces. Where, in Case of Foul weather at Sea, they might have Fishes, to supply their Gluttony, in Harbour. We do not only Pamper our Lusts, but Provoke them: As if we were to Learn the very Art of Voluptuousness. What was it but Avarice, that Originally broke the Union of Society; and Proved the cause of Poverty, even to those that were the most Wealthy? Every Man Possessed All, till the World came to Appropriate Possessions to themselves. In the First Age, Nature was both a Law, and a Guide; and the Best Governed; Which was but according to Nature too. The largest, and the strongest Bull leads the Herd; the Goodliest Elephant; and, among Men too, in the Blessed times of Innocence, the Best was Uppermost. They chose Governors for their Manners; who neither Acted any Violence, nor suffered any. They Protected the Weak against the Mighty; and Persuaded, or Dissuaded, as they saw Occasion. Their Prudence Provided for their Peo●…le; their Courage Kept them Safe from Dangers; their Bounty both Supplied, and Adorned their Subjects. It was a Duty, Then, to Command, not a Government. No Man, in those Days, had either a Mind to do an Injury, or a Cause for't. He that commanded well, was Well Obeyed: And, the worst Menace the Governors could then make to the Disobedient, was, to Forsake them. But, with the corruption of Times, Tyranny crept in, and the World began to have Need of Laws; and those Laws were made by Wise Men too, as Solon, and Lycurgus, who Learned their Trade in the School of Pythagoras.   

EPIST. XXII. Man is Compounded of Soul, and Body: And has Naturally a Civil War within Himself. The Difference betwixt a Life of Virtue, and a Life of Pleasure.  
THere is not so Disproportionate a Mixture in any Creature, as that is in Man, of Soul, and Body. There is Intemperance, joined with Divinity; Folly, with Severity; Sloth, with Activity, and Uncleanness with Purity. But, a Good Sword is never the worse for an Ill Scabbard. We are moved, more by Imaginary Fears, than Truths; for Truth has a Certainty, and Foundation; but, in the other, we are exposed to the Licence, and Conjecture of a Distracted Mind, and our Enemies, are not more Imperious, than our Pleasures. We set our Hearts upon Transitory things; as if they Themselves were Everlasting; or We, on the other side, to Possess them for Ever. Why do we not rather advance our Thoughts to things that are Eternal, and contemplate the Heavenly Original of all Being's? Why do we not, by the Divinity of Reason, triumph over the weaknesses of Flesh, and Blood? It is by Providence that the World is preserved; and not from any Virtue in the Matter of it; for the World is as Mortal as we are: Only the Almighty Wisdom carries it safe through all the Motions of Corruption. And so by Prudence, Humane Life itself may be prolonged; if we will but stint ourselves in those Pleasures that bring the greater part of us untimely to our End. Our Passions are nothing else but Certain Disallowable Motions of the Mind; Sudden, and Eager; which, by Frequency, and Neglect, turn to a Disease; as a Distillation brings us first to a Cough, and then to a Pthisique. We are carried Up to the Heavens, and Down again into the Deep, by Turns; so long as we are governed by our Affections, and not by Virtue. Passion, and Reason, are a kind of Civil War within us; and as the one, or the other has Dominion, we are either Good, or Bad. So that it should be our Care, that the worst Mixture may not prevail. And they are linked, like the Chain of Causes, and Effects, one to another. Betwixt violent Passions, and a Fluctuation, or Wambling of the Mind, there is such a Difference, as betwixt the Agitation of a Storm, and the Nauseous Sickness of a Calm. And they have all of them their Symptoms too, as well as our Bodily Distempers: They that are troubled with the Falling Sickness, know when the Fit is a Coming, by the Cold of the Extreme●… Parts; the Dazzling of the Eye; the failing of the Memory; the Trembling of the Nerves, and the Giddiness of the Head. So that every Man knows his own Disease, and should provide against it: Anger, Love, Sadness, Fear, may be read in the Countenance; And so may the Virtues too. Fortitude makes the Eye Vigorous; Prudence makes it Intent; Reverence shows itself in Modesty; Joy, in Serenity; and Truth in Openness, and Simplicity. There are Sown the Seeds of Divine things in Mortal Bodies. If the Mind be well Cultivated, the Fruit answers the Original; and, if not, all runs into Weeds. We are all of us Sick of Curable Diseases: and it costs us more to be Miserable, than would make us perfectly Happy. Consider the Peaceable State of Clemency, and the Turbulence of Anger; the Softness, and Quiet of Modesty, and the Restlessness of Lust. How Cheap, and easy to us is the Service of Virtue, and how Dear we pay for our Vices? The Sovereign Good of Man, is a Mind that Subjects all things to itself; and is itself subject to Nothing: His Pleasures are Modest, Severe, and Reserved, and rather the Sauce, or the Diversion of Life, than the Entertainment of it. It may be some Question, whether such a Man goes to Heaven, or Heaven comes to Him: For a Good Man is Influenced, by God himself; and has a kind of Divinity within him. What if one Good Man Lives in Pleasure, and Plenty, and another in Want, and Misery? 'tis no Virtue, to contemn Superfluities, but Necessities: And they are both of them Equally Good, though under several Circumstances, and in Different Stations. Cato (the Censor) waged War with the Manners of Rome; Scipio, with the Enemies. Nay, bating the very Conscience of Virtue, Who is there, that upon Sober Thoughts, would not be an Honest Man, even for the Reputation of it. Virtue you shall find in the Temple, in the Field, or upon the Walls, covered with Dust, and Blood, in the Defence of the Public. Pleasures you shall find Sneaking in the Stews, Sweating-Houses, Powdered, and Painted, etc. Not that Pleasures are wholly to be Disclaimed, but to be used with Moderation, and to be made Subservient to Virtue. Good Manners always please us; but Wickedness is Restless, and perpetually Changing; not for the Better, but for Variety. We are torn to pieces betwixt Hopes, and Fears; by which Means, Providence (which is the greatest Blessing of Heaven) is turned into a Mischief Wild Beasts, when they see their Dangers, fly from them: and when they have scaped them, they are Quiet; but wretched Man is equally tormented, both with things Past, and to Come: For the Memory brings back the Anxiety of our Past Fears, and our Foresight Anticipates the Future: Whereas the Present makes no Man Miserable. If we Fear all things that are Possible, we live without any Bounds to our Miseries.   

EPIST. XXIII. We abuse Gods Blessings, and turn them into Mischiefs. Meditations upon the Horrors of Earthquakes, and Consolations against them. Death is the same thing which way soever it comes: Only we are more moved by Accidents that we are not used to.  
THere is nothing so Profitable, but it may be Perverted to our Injury. Without the Use of the Winds, how should we do for Commerce? Beside that, they keep the Air Sweet, and Healthful, and bring seasonable Rains upon the Earth. It was never the Intent of Providence, that they should be Employed for War, and Devastation; and yet that's a great Part of the Use we make of them; pursuing one Hazard through another. We expose ourselves to Tempests, and to Death, without so much as the Hope of a Sepulchre. And all this might be Born too; if we only ran these Risks in order to Peace: But, when we have scaped so many Rocks, and Flats, Thunder, and Storms, What's the Fruit of all our Labour, and Terror? It is only War; and to Burn, and Ravage, as if the Earth were not large enough for the Scene of our Destruction. Whereas we might live, and die at Ease, if we had a mind to't; and draw out our Lives in Security. Why do we Press our own Dangers then, and Provoke our Fates? What do we look for? Only Death; which is to be Found every where. It will find us in our Beds, in our Chambers: But, wheresoever it finds us, let it find us Innocent. What a Madness is it to pursue Mischiefs; to fall foul upon those we do not know; to be Angry without a Cause; to Over-run whatsoever is in our way; and, like Beasts, to kill what we have no Quarrel to? Nay, worse than Beasts; We run great Hazards, only to bring us to Greater. We force our way to Gold, without any regard, either to God, or Man. But, in all this, without any Cause of Complaint, we abuse the Benefits of God, and turn them all into Mischiefs. We dig for Gold; we Leave the Light, and Abandon the Courses of a better Nature. We Descend, where we find a new Position of Things; Hideous Caves, Hollow, and Hanging Rocks; Horrid Rivers; a Deep, and Perpetual Darkness, and not without the Apprehensions even of Hell itself. How Little now, and how Inconsiderable are those things that Men venture for, with the Price of their Lives! But, to pass from those Hazards, that we may avoid, to others, which we cannot. As in the Case of Earthquakes.  
In what Condition can any Man be Safe; when the World itself is shaken; and, the only thing that passes for fixed, and Unmoveable in the Universe, Trembles, and Deceiv●… us? Wither shall we fly for security, if wheresoever we are, the Danger be still under our Feet. Upon the Cracking of a House, every Man takes himself to his heels; and leaves all to save himself: But, What Retreat is there, where that which should Support us, Fails us; when the Foundation, not only of Cities, but even of the World itself, Opens, and Wavers? What Help, or what Comfort; where Fear itself can never carry us off? An Enemy may be Kept at a Distance with a Wall: A Castle may put a stop to an Army; a Port may Protect us from the Fury of a Tempest; Fire itself does not follow him that runs away from't: A Vault may Defend us against Thunder; and we may quit the Place in a Pestilence: There is some Remedy in all these Evils. Or however, no Man ever knew a Whole Nation destroyed with Lightning. A Plague may Unpeople a Town, but it will not Carry it away. There is no Evil of such an Extent, so Inevitable, so Greedy, and so Publicly Calamitous, as an Earthquake. For, it does not only Devour Houses, Families, or Single Towns, but Ruins Whole Countries, and Nations: Either Overturning, or Swallowing them up, without so much as leaving any Footstep, or Mark of what they were. Some People have a greater Horror for this Death, than for any Other: To be taken away alive, out of the Number of the Living; as if all Mortals, by what Means soever, were not to come to the same End. Nature has Eminently this Justice, that when we are all dead, we are all Alike. And, 'tis not a Pin Matter, whether I be Crushed to Pieces by one Stone, or by a whole Mountain; whether I perish by the Fall of a House, or under the Burden of the whole Earth; Whether I be swallowed up alone, or with a Thousand more for Company. What does it signify to me, the Noise, and the Discourse that is made about my Death; when Death is every where, and in all Cases, the same? We should therefore Arm ourselves against that blow, that can neither be Avoided, nor Foreseen. And, it is not the Forswearing of those Places, that we find Infested with Earthquakes, that will do our Business; for there is no Place that can be warranted against them. What if the Earth be not yet moved? It is still Movable; for the whole Body of it lies under the Same Law, and exposed to Danger; only some part at One time, and some at Another. As it is in great Cities, where all the houses are subject to Ruin, though they do not all Fall Together: So in the Body of the Earth, now This Part Fails, and then That. Tyre was Formerly Subject to Earthquakes; In Asia Twelve Cities were swallowed up in a Night; Achaia, and Macedonia have had their Turns, and now Campagnia. The Fate goes Round; and Strikes at last where it has a great while passed by. It falls out oftener 'tis true, in some Places, than in Others: But, no Place is totally Free, and Exempt. And, it is not only Men, but Cities, Coasts, nay the Shores, and the very Sea itself, that suffer under the Dominion of Fate. And yet we are so vain, as to Promise ourselves some sort of Assurance in the Goods of Fortune. Never considering, that the very Ground we stand upon is Unstable. And, it is not the Frailty of this or that Place, but the Quality of every Spot of it; For, not one Inch of it is so compacted, as not to admit many causes of its Resolution; And, though the Bulk of the Earth remain Entire, the Parts of it may yet be broken.  
There is not any thing, which can promise to itself a Lasting quiet. And it is no small Comfort to us, the Certainty of our Fate: For, it is a Folly to Fear where there is no Remedy. He that troubles himself sooner than he needs, grieves more also than is Necessary: For the same weakness that makes him Anticipate his Misery, makes him Enlarge it too. The Wise fortify themselves by Reason, and Fools by Despair. That saying which was applied to a Conquered Party under Fire, and Sword, might have been spoken to all Mankind. That Man is in some Sense, out of Danger, that is out of Hope. He that would Fear nothing, should Consider, that if he fears Any thing, he must fear Every thing. Our very Meat, and Drink, Sleeping, and Waking, without Measure, are Hurtful to us. Our Bodies are Nice, and Weak; and a Small Matter does their Work. That Man has too high an Opinion of himself, that is only afraid of Thunder, and of Earthquakes. If he were Conscious of his own Infirmities, he would as much fear the being Choked with his own Phlegm. What do we see in ourselves, that Heaven, and Earth should join in a Distemper to Procure our Dissolution; when the Ripping of a Hang-nail is sufficient to Dispatch us? We are Afraid of Inundations from the Sea, when a Glass of Wine, if it goes the wrong way, is Enough to Suffocate us. It is a great Comfort in Death, the very Mortality itself. We creep under Ground for fear of Thunder; we dread the sudden Concussions of the Earth, and the Rages of the Sea, when yet we carry Death in our Own Veins; and it is at hand in all Places, and at all Times. There is nothing so little, but it is of Force enough to bring us to our Last End. Nay, so far should we be from dreading an Eminent Fate, more than a Vulgar, that on the Contrary, since Die we must, we should rather Rejoice in the Breathing of our Last, under a more Glorious Circumstance. What if the Ground stand still within its bounds, and without any Violence? I shall have it over me at Last; and 'tis all one to me, whether I be laid under That, or That lays itself over me: But, it is a Terrible thing for the Earth to gape, and swallow a Man up into a Profound Abyss: And what then? Is Death any Easier Above Ground? What cause have I of Complaint, if Nature will do me the honour to Cover me with a Part of herself? Since we must Fall, there is a Dignity in the very Manner of it, when the World itself is shocked for Company. Not that I would wish for a Public Calamity; but it is some Satisfaction in my Death, that I see the World also to be Mortal.  
Neither are we to take these Extraordinary Revolutions for Divine Judgements; as if such Motions of the Heavens, and of the Earth, were the Denouncing of the Wrath of the Almighty: but they have their Ordinate, and their Natural Causes: Such as, in Proportion, we have in our own Bodies; and while they seem to Act a Violence, they Suffer it. But yet for want of knowing the Causes of things, they are Dreadful to us; and the more so, because they happen but seldom. But why are we commonly more Afraid of that which we are not Used to? Because we look upon Nature with our Eyes, not with our Reason: Rather Computing what she Usually Does, than what she is Able to do. And we are Punished for this Negligence, by taking those things to which we are not Wont, to be New, and Prodigious. The Eclipses of the Sun, and Moon, Blazing Stars, and Meteors, while we Admire them, we Fear them; and since we Fear them, because we do not Understand them, it is worth our while to Study them, that we may no longer Fear them. Why should I fear a Man, a Beast, an Arrow, or a Lance, when I am exposed to the Encounter of Greater Dangers? We are Assaulted by the Nobler parts of Nature itself; by the Heavens, by the Seas, and the Land. Our Business is therefore to Defy Death, whether Extraordinary, or Common. No matter for the Menaces of it, so long as it Asks no more of us than Age itself will take from us; and every petty Accident that befalls us. He that Contemns Death, What does he Care for either Fire, or Water; the very Dissolution of the Universe? or if the Earth should Open Under him, and show him all the Secrets of the Infernal Pit, He would look Down without Trouble. In the Place that we are all of us to go to, there are no Earthquakes, or Thunderclaps; no Tempestuous Seas; Neither War, nor Pestilence. Is it a Small Matter? Why do we fear it then? Is it a Great Matter? Let it rather once fall upon us, than always hang over us. Why should I dread my Own End, when I know that an End I must have, and that all Created things are Limited.   

EPIST. XXIV. A Discourse of God's Providence, in the Misfortunes of Good Men in this World, and in the Prosperity of the Wicked.  
YOu are troubled, I perceive, that your Servant is run away from you; but I do not hear yet that you are either Robbed, or Strangled, or Poisoned, or Betrayed, or Accused by him: So that you have scaped well, in Comparison with your Fellows. And, Why should you complain then; especially under the Protection of so gracious a Providence as suffers no Man to be miserable but by his own Fault? Nor is this a Subject worthy of a wise Man's Consideration. Adversity indeed is a terrible thing in Sound, and Opinion; and that's all. Some Men are Banished, and stripped of their Estates; Others again are Poor, in Plenty; (which is the basest sort of Beggary.) Some are overborne by a Popular Tumult, that breaks out like a Tempest, even in the highest security of a Calm; Or like a Thunderclap, that frights all that are near it: There is but One Struck, perhaps, but the Fear extends to all, and affects those that May Suffer, as well as those that Do. As in the Discharge of a Piece only with Powder; 'Tis not the Stroke, but the Crack, that frights the Birds. Adversity, I'll grant you, is not a thing to be wished; no more than War; but, if it be my Lot to be Torn with the Stone, Broken upon the Wheel, or to receive Wounds, or Maims; It shall be my Prayer, that I may bear my Fortune as becomes a Wise, and an Honest Man. We do not Pray for Tortures, but for Patience; nor for War, but for Generosity and Courage, in all the Extremities of War, if it happens. Afflictions are but the Exercise of Virtue; and an Honest Man is out of his Element, when he is Idle. It must be Practice, and Patience, that Perfects it. Do we not see see how one Wrestler provokes another? And if he find him not to be his Match, he will call for some Body to help him, that may put him to all his strength.  
It is a Common Argument against the Justice of Providence, in the matter of Reward, and Punishment; the Misfortunes of Good Men in this World, and the Prosperity of the Wicked: But, it is an easy matter to vindicate the Cause of the Gods. There are many things that we call Evil, which turn very often to the Advantage of those that suffer them; or at least, for the Common Good, whereof Providence has the greater Care. And further; they either befall those that bear them willingly, or those that deserve them by their Impatience under them: And Lastly, they come by Divine Appointment; and to those that are Good Men, even for that very Reason, because they are Good. Nor is there any thing more Ordinary, than for that which we feared as a Calamity, to prove the Foundation of our Happiness. How many are there in the World that enjoy all things to their Own Wish, whom God never thought worthy of a Trial? If it might be imagined, that the Almighty should take off his Thought from the Care of his Whole Work, What more Glorious Spectacle could he reflect upon, than a Valiant Man Struggling with Adverse Fortune: Or Cato's Standing Upright, and Unmoved, under the Shock of a Public Ruin? Let the Whole World (says he) fall into one hand, and let Caesar encompass me with his Legions by Land, his Shipping at Sea, and his Guards at the Gates; Cato will yet cut out his way; and with That Weapon that was untainted, even in the Civil War, give himself that Liberty, which Fate denied to his Country. Set upon the great Work then, and deliver thyself from the Clog of thy Humanity. Juba, and Petreius have already done the good office One for the Other, by a Generous Concurrence of Resolution, and Fate; but Cato is above Example, and does as much scorn to ask his Death of any Man, as his Life. With what Joy did this Great Man Contemplate Immortality; when he took his Book, and his Sword together; and, in Cold Thoughts dispatched himself? Let this suffice of Cato, whose Virtue Providence made use of to Cope with all the Powers of the Earth. His Courage took delight in, and sought for all Occasions of Hazard; keeping his Eye still upon the End, without valuing the Difficulties of the Passage. The Sufferance is one Part of the Glory; and though one Man may scape without Wounds, yet he is still more Reverend, and Bemarkable, that comes off Bloody. The Malice of Great Men is grievous, you'll say; and yet he Supported the Oppositions of Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus. Is it troublesome to be Repulsed. Vatinius was preferred before him. Prosperity shows a Man but one part of Humane Nature. No Body knows what such a Man is good for: Neither in truth does he understand himself, for want of Experiment. Temporal Happiness is for weak, and Vulgar Minds, but, the subduing of Public Terrors is a Work that is reserved for more Generous Spirits. Calamity is the Touchstone of a Brave Mind, that resolves to Live, and Dye Free, and Master of itself The Combatant brings no Metal into the Field, that was never Battered: He that has lost Blood, and yet keeps his Stomach; he that has been under his Enemy, and worsted, and yet comes on again, and gathers heart from his Misfortunes; That's the Man of Hope, and Courage.  
But, Is it not a very Unjust, and a Rigorous Fate, that Good Men should be Poor, and Friendless? All this is no more than the Natural Work of Matter, and Form. Mean Souls are meanly Principled: But, there goes more to the making up of a Brave Man, that is to work out his way through Difficulties and Storms. We are condemned to Terrible Encounters; and because we cannot, according to the Course of Nature, Avoid them, we have Faculties given us, that will Enable us to Bear them: Or at the worst, we have a Retreat; If we will not fight, we may fly. So that nothing is made more Easy to us, than that which is most Necessary to us, to Die. No Man is kept in the World against his Will. But Adversity is the Better for us all; for, it is God's Mercy, to show the World their Errors, and that the things they Fear, and Covet, are neither Good, nor Evil; being the Common and promiscuous Lot both of Good Men, and Bad. If they were Good, only the Good should enjoy them: And if Bad, only the Wicked should suffer them. One Man is taken away in a Scuffle for a Wench, and another in the Defence of his Country; and we find Silver, and Gold, both in a Temple, and in the Stews.  
Now to show you, that the Virtue which I affect, is not so Imaginary, and Extravagant, as it is taken to be, I will allow a Wise Man to Tremble, to turn Pale; nay, and to Groan too: And to suffer all the Affections of his Bodily Sense, provided that he keep his Mind Firm, and Free from submission to his Body; and that he do not Repent of his Constancy, (which is, in itself, so great a Virtue, that there is some Authority, even in a pertinacious Error.) If the Body may be brought by Exercise, to the Contempt of Bruises, and Wounds, How much more easily than may the Mind be Fortified against the Assaults of Fortune; And though perhaps thrown down, and Trod upon, yet Recover itself? The Body must have Meat and Drink, much Labour, and Practice; whereas the Food, and the Business of the Mind is within itself; and Virtue is maintained without either Toil, or Charge. If you say, That many Professors of Wisdom are wrought upon by Menaces, and Mischiefs, these, let me tell you, are but Proficients, and not as yet arrived at the State of Wisdom. They are not strong enough to practise what they know. It is with our Dispositions, as with our clothes: They will take some Colours at One Dipping: But others must be steeped over and over before they will Imbibe them. And so for Disciplines; they must Soak, and lie long before they take the Tincture. No Man can receive an Injury, and not be moved at it: But yet he may keep himself Free from Perturbations; and so far from being troubled at them, that he may make use of them for the Experiment, and Trial of his Virtue; keeping himself still moderate, Placid Cheerful, and Safe in a Profound quiet; and Fixed in his Station. But if a Wise Man cannot be Poor; How comes it that he is many times without either Meat, Drink, clothes, or Lodging? If only Fools are Mad, How comes it then, that Wise Men have their Alienations of Mind, and talk as Idly in a Fever as other people? 'Tis one thing, the Receiving of an Injury, and another thing, the Conceiving of an Indignation for it: It is the Body in This Case that suffers, (which is the Fools Part) but not the Mind. That Man is never the worse Pilot that by foul weather is forced beside his Business. When a Ship springs a Leak, we do not presently quarrel either with the Mariners, or with the Vessel. But, some to the Pump, others into the Hold, to keep the Ship above Water. And if we cannot absolutely Master it, we must still work on; For it is then a great point gained, if we can but keep it at a stay. Some Men are strangely Transported at the Insolence of the Porter that refuses to let them into a Great Man's House. They forget that the door of a Prison is more strictly guarded than that of a Palace. He that has Business must pay for his Passage, and Sweeten him, as he would do a Churlish Cur with a Sop. That which is to be Sold, is to be Bought: He's a weak Man, that rates himself according to the Civility of a Slave. Let him have a Reverence for himself, and then no matter who despises him. What if he should break his Staff, or Cause his Master to turn him away, or to correct, him? He that Contends, supposes an Equality; and even when he has got the better of him, admits that there Was one. What if he should receive a Blow? Cato (the greatest Man of his Age) did not only Forgive it, but Forget it.  
'Tis not to say, That This, or That is Tolerable to a Wise Man, or Intolerable: If We do not totally subdue Fortune, Fortune Overcomes Us. It is the Foundation of a Happy Life, for a Man to depend upon himself; but an Absolute Tranquillity of Mind, and a Freedom from Errors, must be the Business of another World.   

EPIST. XXV. A Wise, and a Good Man is Proof against all Accidents. Of Fate.  
THe Book you promised me is now come to my hand; and I opened it with an Intent to read it over at Leisure. But, when I was once in, I could not lay it down again, till I had gone through with it. At Present I shall only tell you, that I am exceedingly pleased with the Choice of the Subject: but I am Transported with the Spirit, and Gentleness of it. You shall hear farther from me upon a Second Reading; and you need not fear the hearing of the Truth, for your Goodness leaves a Man no place for flattery. I find you still to be one and the same Man, which is a great Matter; and only proper to a Wise Man: for fools are Various: One while Thrifty, and Grave; Another while Profuse, and Vain. Happy is the Man that sets himself Right at first, and cntinues so to the End. All Fools, we say, are Mad Men, though they are not all of them in Bed●…am. We find some at the Bar, some upon the Bench, and not a few even in the Senate itself. One Man's Folly is sad; Another's, Wanton; and a Third's is Busy, and Impertinent. A Wise man carries all his Treasure within himself: What Fortune Gives, she may Take; but he leaves nothing at her Mercy. He Stands Firm, and keeps his Ground against all Misfortunes, without so much as Changing Countenance. He is Free, Inviolable, Unshaken; Proof against all Accidents; and not only Invincible, but Inflexible. So long as he cannot Lose any thing of his own, he never troubles himself for what's Another's. He is a Friend to Providence, and will not murmur at any thing that comes to pass by God's Appointment. He is not only Resolute, but Generous, and Good Natured; and ready to lay down his Life in a Good Cause; and for the Public Safety, to Sacrifice his Own. He does not so much consider the Pleasure of his Life, as the Need that the World has of him: And he is not so Nice neither, as to be weary of his Life, while he may either serve his Wife, or his Friends. Nor is it all, that his Life is Profitable to Them; but, it is likewise Delightful to Himself, and carries its own Reward; for, What can be more Comfortable, than to be so Dear to Another, as for that very Reason to become Dearer to Himself. If he Loses a Child, he is Pensive; he is Compassionate to the Sick, and only Troubled, when he sees Men wallowing in Infamy, and Vice. Whereas, on the Other side, you shall see nothing but Restlessness; One Man Hankering after his Neighbour's Wife; Another in Pain about his Own; A Third in Grief for a Repulse; Another a●… much out of humour for his Success. If He loses an Estate, he parts with it as a thing that was only Adventitious. Or if it was of his own acquiring, he computes the Possession, and Loss; and says thus to himself, I shall live as well afterward, as I did before. Our Houses, (says he) may be Burnt, or Robbed; Our Lands taken from us; and we can call nothing our Own, that is under the Dominion of Fortune. It is a Foolish Avarice, that restrains all things to a Propriety; and believes nothing to be a Mans Own, that's Public. Whereas a Wise Man judges Nothing so much his Own, as That wherein Mankind is allowed a share. It is not with the Blessings of Providence, as it is with a Dole; where every Man receives so much a Head; but every Man there has All. That which we Eat, and either Give, or Receive with the Hand, may be broken into Parts: But Peace, and Freedom of Mind are not to be Divided. He that has First cast off the Empire of Fortune, needs not fear that of Great Men, for they are but Fortune's Hands; nor was any man ever broken by Adversity, that was not first betrayed by Prosperity. But, What signifies Philosophy, you'll say, if there be a Fa●…e; If we be Governed by Fortune, or some overruling Power? For Certainti●… are Unchangeable, and there's no Providing against Uncertainties. If what I shall Do, and Resolve, be already Determined, What use of Philosophy? Yes, great Use; for, taking all this for granted, Philosophy Instructs, and Advises us to obey God, and to follow him Willingly; to oppose Fortune Resolutely, and to Bear all Accidents.  
Fate is an Irrevocable, an Invincible, and an Unchangeable Decree; a Necessity of all Things, and Actions, according to Eternal Appointment. Like the Course of a River, it moves forward, without Contradiction, or Delay, in an irresistible Flux, where one Wave bushes on another. He knows little of God, that Imagines it may be Controlled. There is no Changing of the Purpose even of a Wise Man. For he sees beforehand what will be best for the Future. How much more Unchangeable than is the Almighty, to whom all Futurity is always Present? To what end then is it, if Fate be Inexorable, to offer up Prayers, and Sacrifices, any further, than to relieve the Scruples, and the Weaknesses of Sickly Minds? My Answer is, First. That the Gods take no Delight in the Sacrifices of Beasts, or in the Images of Gold, and Silver, but in a Pious, and Obedient Will. And Secondly That by Prayers, and Sacrifices, Dangers, and Afflictions may be sometimes Removed; sometimes Lessened; other whiles Deferred: and all this without any Offence to the Power, or Necessity of Fate. There are some things which Providence has left so far in Suspense, that they seem to be, (in a manner) Conditional; in such sort, that even Appearing Evils may, upon our Prayers, and Supplications, be turned into Goods. Which is so far from being against Fate, that it is even a Part of Fate itself. You will say, That either This shall come to Pass, or not. If the Former, It will be the same thing if we do not Pray: And if the Other, it will be the same thing if we do. To this I must Reply; That the Proposition is False, for want of the Middle Exception betwixt the One, and the Other. This will be, (say I;) that is, if there shall any Prayers Interpose in the Case. But then do they Object on the Other side. That this very thing also is Necessary; for it is likewise determined by Fate, either that we shall Pray, or not. What if I should now grant you, that there is a Fate also even in our very Prayers? A Determination that we shall Pray; and that therefore we shall Pray? It is Decreed that a Man shall be Eloquent: But, upon Condition, that he apply himself to Letters. By the same Fate it is Decreed, that he shall so apply himself, and that therefore he shall learn. Such a Man shall be Rich, if he betake himself to Navigation. But, the same Fate that promises him a great Estate, appoints also that he shall Sail, and therefore he puts to Sea. It is the same Case in Expiations. A Man shall Avoid Dangers, if he can, by his Prayers, avoid the threatenings of Divine Vengeance. But this is Part of his Fate also, that he shall so do, and therefore he does it. These Arguments are made use of, to Prove, that there is nothing left to our Will, but that we are all overruled by Fatalities. When we come to handle that Matter, we shall show the Consistency of freewill with Fate, having already made it appear, that notwithstanding the Certain order of Fate, Judgements may be Averted by Prayers, and Supplications: And, without any Repugnancy to Fate; for they are part even of the Law of Fate itself. You will say Perhaps, What am I the better for the Priest, or the Prophet; for whether he bid●… me Sacrifice, or no, I lie under the necessity of doing it? Yes, in this I am the better for it, as he is the Minister of Fate. We may as well say, that it is Matter of Fate, that we are in Health; and yet we are indebted for it to the Physician; because the Benefit of that Fate is conveyed to us by his Hand.   

EPIST. XXVI. All things are Produced out of Cause, and Matter. Of Providence. A Brave Man is a Match for Fortune.  
I Had yesterday but the one Half of it to myself; My Distemper took up the Morning; the Afternoon was my Own. My First Trial was, how far I could endure Reading: and when I saw I could bear That, I fell to Writing: and pitched upon a Subject Difficult enough, for it required great Intention; but yet I was resolved not to be Overcome. Some of my Friends coming in, told me, that I did Ill; and took me off: So that from Writing, we passed into Discourse; and made you the Judge of the Matter in Question; The Stoics, you know, will have all things to be Produced out of 〈◊〉 and Matter. The Matter is Dull, and 〈◊〉 sieve; Susceptible of any thing, but 〈◊〉 Capable of Doing any thing it Sel●… 〈◊〉 Cause is that Power that Form●… 〈◊〉 Matter, this or that way, at Pleasure. Some thing there must be, of which every thing is Made; and then there must be a Workman to Form every thing. All Art is but an Imitation of Nature; and that which I speak in General of the World, holds in the Case of every Particular Person. As for Example. The Matter of a Statue is the Wood, the Stone, or the Marble; the Statuary shapes it, and is the Cause of it. Aristotle assigns Four Causes to every thing. The Material; which is the Sine quâ non (or That without which It could not be.) The Efficient; as the Workman. The Formal; as That which is stamped upon all Operations; and the Final; which is the Design of the whole Work. Now to explain This. The First Cause of the Statue (for the Purpose) is the Copper; For it had never been made, if there had not been something to work upon. The Second, is the Artificer, for if he had not understood his Art, it had never Succeeded. The Third Cause is the Form; For it could never properly have been the Statue of such, or such a Person; if such a Resemblance had not been put upon it. The Fourth Cause is the End of making it, without which it had never been made: As Money, if it were made for Sale; Glory, if the Workman made it for his Credit; or Religion, if he designed the Bestowing of it upon a Temple. Plato adds a Fifth, which he calls the Idea, or the Exemplar, by which the Workman draws his Copy. And he makes God to be full of these Figures, which he represents to be Inexhaustible, Unchangeable, and Immortal. Now, upon the whole Matter, give us your Opinion. To me it seems, that here are either too many Causes assigned, or too few; and they might as well have Introduced Time, and Place, as some of the rest. Either Clear the Matter in Question; or deal Plainly, and tell us that you cannot: And so let us return to those Cases, wherein all Mankind is agreed, the Reforming of our Lives, and the Regulation of our Manners. For these Subtleties are but time lost. Let us search ourselves in the first Place, and afterward the World.  
There's no great Hurt in passing over those things which we are never the better for, when we know; and, it is so ordered by Providence, that there is no great difficulty in Learning, or Acquiring those things, which may make us either Happier, or Better. Beside that, whatsoever is Hurtful to us, we have drawn out of the very Bowels of the Earth.  
Every Man knows, without Telling, that this Wonderful Fabric of the Universe is not without a Governor; and that a Constant Order cannot be the Work of Chance: For the Parts would then fall foul one upon another. The Motions of the Stars, and their Influences, are Acted by the Command of an Eternal Decree. It is by the Dictate of an Almighty Power, that the Heavy Body of the Earth hangs in Balance. Whence comes the Revolution of Seasons, and the Flux of Rivers? The wonderful virtue of the smallest Seeds? (as an Oak to arise from an Acorn.) To say nothing of those things that seem to be most Irregular, and Uncertain; as Clouds, Rain, Thunder, the Eruptions of Fire out of Mountains, Earthquakes, and those Tumultuary Motions in the Lower Region of the Air, which have their Ordinate Causes; And so have those things too, which appear to us more Admirable, because less Frequent. As, Scalding Fountains, and New Islands started out of the Sea: Or, What shall we say of the Ebbing, and Flowing of the Ocean; the Constant Times, and Measures of the Tides, according to the Changes of the Moon that Influences moist Bodies? But this needs not; For, it is not that we Doubt of Providence, but Complain of it. And it were a good Office to Reconcile Mankind to the Gods, who are undoubtedly Best to the Best. It is against Nature that Good should hurt Good. A Good Man is not only the Friend of God, but the very Image, the Disciple, and the Imitator of him, and the true Child of his Heavenly Father. He is true to himself; and Acts with Constancy, and Resolution. Scipio, by a Cross Wind, being forced into the Power of his Enemies; cast himself upon the Point of his Sword; and, as the People were enquiring, what was become of the General; The General (says Scipio) is very well, and so he expired. What is it for a Man to Fall, if we consider the End, beyond which no Man Can Fall? We must repair to Wisdom for Arms against Fortune; for it were unreasonable for her to furnish Arms against herself. A Gallant Man is Fortune's Match: His Courage Provokes, and Despises those terrible Appearances, that would otherwise Enslave us. A Wise Man is out of the Reach of Fortune, but not Free from the Malice of it; and all Attempts upon him are no more than Xerxes his Arrows; they may darken the Day; but they cannot Strike the Sun. There is nothing so Holy, as to be Privileged from Sacrilege. But, to Strike, and not to Wound, is Anger Lost; and he is Invulnerable that is Struck, and not Hurt. His Resolution is tried; the Waves may dash themselves upon a Rock, but not Break it: Temples may be Profaned, and Demolished; but the Deity still remains untouched.   

EPIST. XXVII. Some Traditions of the Ancients concerning Thunder, and Lightning; with the Author's Contemplations Thereupon.  
THere is no question, but that Providence has given to Mortals the Tokens, or Forerunners of things to Come; and by those means, laid open, in some measure, the Decrees of Fate: Only we take Notice of some things, without giving any heed to Others. There is not any thing done, according to the Course of Nature, which is not either the Cause, or the Sign of something that follows: So that wheresoever there is Order, there is place for Prediction. But there is no judgement to be given upon Accidents. Now, though it is a very hard matter to arrive at the Foreknowledge of things to come, and to predict particularly what shall hereafter fall out, Upon a Certain Knowledge of the Power, and Influences of the Stars: It is yet unquestionable, that they have a Power, though we cannot expressly say what it is. In the Subject of Thunder, there are several Opinions, as to the significations of it. The Stoics hold, that because the Cloud is Broken, therefore the Bolt is shot (according to Common Speech.) Others Conjecture, that the Cloud is broken to that very End, that it may discharge the Thunder-Bolt, referring all in such sort to God, as if the signification did not arise from the thing done, but as if the thing itself were done for the signification sake: But, whether the signification goes before, or follows, it comes all to the same Point. There are Three sorts of Lightning; the First is so pure, and subtle, that it pierces through whatsoever it Encounters. The Second Shatters, and Breaks every thing to pieces: the Other Burns; either by Blasting, Consuming, Inflaming, or Discolouring, and the like. Some Lightnings are Monitory; Some are M●…nacing, and others they Fancy to be Promising. They Allot to jupiter Three Sorts; the First is only Monitory, and Gentle, which he casts of his own Accord; The Second they make to be an Act of Counsel, as being done by the Vote, and Advice of Twelve Gods. This, they say, does many times some Good, but not without some Mischief too. As the Destruction of One Man may prove the Caution of another. The Third is the Result of a Council of the Superior Deities; from whence proceed great Mischiefs, both Public, and Private. Now, this is a great Folly to Imagine, that jupiter would wreak his Displeasure upon Pillars, Trees, nay, upon Temples themselves, and yet let the Sacrilegious go Free: To strike Sheep, and Consume Altars, and all this, upon a Consultation of the Gods; as if he wanted either Skill, or Justice, to Govern his own Affairs by himself; either in Sparing the Guilty, o●… in Destroying the Innocent. Now, What should be the Mystery of all this? The Wisdom of our Forefathers found it necessary to keep Wicked People in Awe, by the Apprehension of a Superior Power; And to Fright them into their good Behaviour, by the Fear of an Armed, and an Avenging Justice over their Heads. But, How comes it, that the Lightning which comes from jupiter himself, should be said to be harmless; and That which he casts, upon Counsel, and Advice, to be so Dangerous, and Mortal? The Moral of it is This. That all Kings, should, after jupiters' Example, do all Good by themselves. And when Severity is Necessary, permit That to be done by Others: Beside that, as Crimes are Unequal, so also should be the Punishments. Neither did they believe That jupiter to be the Thunderer, whose Image was worshipped in the Capitol, and in other Places; but intended it of the Maker, and Governor of the Universe, by what Name soever we shall call him. Now, in truth, jupiter does not Immediately cast the Lightning himself; but leaves Nature to her Ordinary Method of Operation; so that what he does not Immediately by himself, he does yet 'Cause to be done; For, whatsoever Nature does, God does. There may be something gathered out of all things, that are either said, or done, that a Man may be the better for: And he does a greater thing that Masters the Fear of Thunder, than he that discovers the Reason of it. We are Surrounded, and Beset with Ill Accidents, and since we cannot avoid the stroke of them, let us prepare ourselves honestly to bear them. But, How must that be? By the Contempt of Death we do also Contemn all things in the way to it; as Wounds, Shipwrecks, the Fury of Wild Beasts, or any other violence whatsoeever; which, at the worst, can but part the Soul, and the Body. And, we have this for our Comfort, though our Lives are at the Mercy of Fortune, she has yet no power over the Dead.  
How many are there that call for Death in the Distress of their Hearts, even for the very Fear of it? And, this Unadvised Desire of Death, does, in Common, affect both the best, and the worst of Men; only with this Difference, the Former Despise Life, and the other are Weary of it.  
'Tis a Nauseous thing to serve the Body, and to be so many years a doing so many Beastly things, over and over. It is well, if in our Lives, we can please Others; but, whatever we do, in our Deaths, let us be sure to please ourselves. Death is a thing which no Care can avoid; no Felicity can Tame it; no Power Overcome it. Other things are Disposed of by Chance, and Fortune; but, Death treats all Men alike.  
The Prosperous must Die, as well as the Unfortunate; and, methinks the very Despair of overcoming our Fate, should inspire us with Courage to Encounter it: For, there is no Resolution so Obstinate, as that which arises from Necessity. It makes a Coward as bold as julius Caesar, though upon different Principles. We are all of us reserved for Death; and, as Nature brings forth One Generation, she Calls back Another. The whole Dispute is, about the Time, but no body doubts about the Thing itself.   

EPIST. XXVIII. A Contemplation of Heaven, and Heavenly Things. Of God; and of the Soul.  
THere is a great Difference betwixt Philosophy, and other Arts; and a greater yet, betwixt That Philosophy itself, which is of Divine Contemplation, and That which has a regard to things here Below. It is much Higher, and Braver; It takes a Larger Scope; and being unsatisfied with what it sees, it aspires to the Knowledge of something that is Greater, and Fairer, and which Nature has placed out of our Ken. The One only teaches us what is to be done upon Earth; the Other reveals to us That which Actually is done in Heaven: The One discusses our Errors; and holds the Light to us, by which we distinguish in the Ambiguities of Life; the Other Surmounts that Darkness which we are wrapped up in, and carries us up to the Fountain of Light itself. And then it is that we are in a special manner to acknowledge the Infinite Grace, and Bounty of the Nature of things; when we see it, not only where it is Public, and Common; but in the very secrets of it; as being admitted into the Cabinet of the Divinity itself. There it is that we are taught to understand what is the Matter of the World; who is the Author, and Preserver of it. What God himself is; and whether he be wholly Intent upon Himself; or at any time descends to Consider Us. Whether he has done his work once for all; or whether he be still in Action: Whether he be a Part of the World, or the World itself: Whether he be at Liberty, or no, to determine any thing anew to day, and to Control, or Derogate from the Law of Fate. Whether it be any Diminution of his Wisdom, or any Confession of Error, to Do, and Undo. Or to have made things that were afterward to be altered: For, the same things must of Necessity always please him, who can never be pleased, but with that which is Best. Now, this is no Lessening, either of his Liberty, or of his Power; for he himself is his own Necessity. Without the Benefit, and the Comfort of these Thoughts, it had been even as well for us never to have been Born. For, to what end do we Live? Is it only to Eat, and to Drink? To Stuff up an Infirm, and Fluid Carcase, that would Perish without it; and to live only a Servant to one that is Sick? To Fear Death, to which we are all Born? Take away this Inestimable Good, and Life itself is not worth the Labour, and the Care of it. Oh! how wretched, how Contemptible a thing were Man, if he should not advance himself above the State of Humane Affairs? So long as we struggle with our Passions, What is there in This World that we do, which is Glorious? Nay, if we advance ourselves so far as to Overcome them; It is but the destroying of so many Monsters. And, Have we not then a mighty Exploit to value ourselves upon, when we have made ourselves a little more Tolerable than the Worst of Men? Is it not a wondrous matter to brag of, that we are a little stronger than a Man that is Sick? Alas! Alas! My Friend, there's a large Difference betwixt Strength, and Health. You have not a Wicked Mind perhaps; you may have a Clear Brow, a Tongue that will not Flatter, and a Single Heart: You have not That Avarice perchance, that refuses to itself whatsoever it takes from other people; nor That Luxury, that squanders away Money Shamefully, and yet more shamefully repairs it: Nor that Ambition, that leads you by Unworthy Ways to places of Preferment. These are only Negatives; and you have Got nothing all this while. You will tell me, that▪ you have scaped many things: But you have not yet Escaped your ●…elf. The Virtue that we recommend is High, and Illustrious. Not that it is a Happiness in itself, to be Free from Evil: but because it Dignifies, and Enlarges the Mind; Because it prepares it for the Knowledge of Heavenly Things, and makes it Capable even of Conversing with God Himself. It is then arrived at the highest Pitch of Humane Felicity; when it soars Aloft, and enters into the Privacies of Nature, trampling all that is Evil, or Vulgar, under its Feet. What a Delight, what a Transport is it, for a Soul that is wandering among the Stars; to look down, and Laugh at the Palaces of Princes, and the whole Globe of the Earth, with all its Treasures? I do not speak of That only that is converted into Money, and Plate, but of That also which is reserved in the Bowels of the Earth, to gratify the Insatiable Cove●…ousness of Posterity. Nor can we ever bring ourselves to the Absolute Contempt of Luxurious Ornaments; Rich Furniture; Stately Buildings, Pleasant Gardens, and Fountains; till we have the World Under us, and till looking down from the Heavens, and beholding That Spot of Ground we Live upon; (the Greater Part of it Covered with the Sea; beside a great deal of it Desolate, and either Scorched, or Frozen) we shall say Thus to ourselves. Is This Miserable Point the Ball of Contention, that is divided among so many Nations with Fire, and Sword? How Ridiculous are the Bounds, as well as the Contests of Mortals! Such a Prince must not pass such a River; nor another Prince those Mountains; and, Why do not the very Pismires Canton out their Posts, and jurisdictions too? For, What does the Bustle of Troops, and Armies amount to, more, than the business of a Swarm of Ants upon a Molehill? The Scene of all the Important Actions here Below, where, both at Sea, and Land, we Tug, and Scuffle for Dominion, and Wealth, is but a wretched Point of Earth; Whereas the Dominions of the Soul Above, are Boundless. This very Contemplation gives us Force, Liberty, and Nourishment; The Mind is There, at Home: And it has This Argument of its Divinity, that it takes Delight in what's Divine. It Contemplates the Rising, and the Falling of the Stars, and the Admirable Harmony of Order, even in their Various Motions: Discussing, and Enquiring into every thing, as properly appertaining unto itself. With how much scorn does it then Reflect upon the Narrowness of its Former Habitation? There it is, that it learns the End of its Proper Being; the Knowledge of God. And, What is God? An Immense, and an Almighty Power: Great, without Limits; and he does whatsoever pleases him: He that applies himself to This Study, Trans●…ends the very Lot, and Condition of his Mortality. That Almighty Power is all that we do see, and all that we do not see. What is the difference betwixt the Divine Nature, and Ours? Man is Compounded; and his best part is his Mind: But, the Almighty is All Mind, and all Reason; and yet Mortals are so Blind, that the Actions of this Incomprehensible Power, so excellent for Beauty, Constancy, and Disposition, are looked upon by many Men only as Fortuitous, and the Work of Chance: And subject to all the Tumults of Thunder, Clouds, and Tempests, that affect poor Mortals. And, this is not only the Folly, and Madness of the Common People; but the Weakness also of Wise Men. There are, that arrogate to Themselves, the Faculties of Providence, and Reason, and the Skill of Disposing, as well Other People's Affairs, as their Own: And yet these very Men are so besotted, as to imagine, the World only to be Governed by an Unadvised Rashness: As if Nature knew not what she did▪ How Profitable would it be for Us, to know the Truth of Things, and to allow them their due Terms, and Measures? To inquire into the Power of the Almighty, and the Method of his Workings; Whether he made the Matter itself, or found it ready to his hand; and whether was First, the Matter itself, or the Idea of it? Whether or no he does what he pleases; and what may be the Reason of so many seeming Imperfections in his Operations? It is well said of Aristotle, that we should handle Divine Matters with Modesty, and Reverence. When we enter into a Temple, or approach the Altar; we compose our Looks, and our Actions to all the Decencies of Humility, and Respect. How much more than does it concern us, when we treat of Heavenly things, To deal candidly; and not to let one Syllable pass our Lips that▪ may Savour of Confidence, Rashness, or Ignorance? Truth lies deep, and must be fetched up at Leisure. How many Mysteries are there, which God hath placed our of our ●…ight; and which are only to be reached by Thought, and Contemplation! The Notions of the Divinity are Profound, and Obscure▪ or else perhaps we see them without understanding them. But, the Divine Majesty is only Accessible to the Mind. What This is (without which Nothing is) we are not able to Determine: And, when we have guessed at some Sparks of it, the greatest part lies yet concealed from us. How many Creatures have we now in this Age, that never were known to us before? And, How many more will the next Age know more than we do? And many yet will be still reserved for A●…ter times. The very Rites of Religion are at this day a Secret, and unknown to many People. Nay, the very thing that we most eagerly pursue, we are not yet arrived at: That is to say; a Perfection in Wickedness. Vice is still upon the Improvement: Luxury, Immodesty, and a Prostitute Dissolution of Manners finds still new Matter to work upon. Our Men are grown Effeminate in their Habits, in their Motions, and in their Ornaments, even to the Degree of Whorishness. There's no body minds Philosophy, but for want of a Comedy perhaps, or in foul weather, when there is nothing else to be done.   

Postscript.  
BEfore I take my Last Leave of Seneca, I will here discharge my Conscience, as if I were upon my Last Leave with the Whole World. I have been so Just, both to the Reader, and to the Author, that I have neither Left out any thing in the Original, which I thought the One might be the Better for, nor Added any thing of my Own, to make the Other Fare the Worse. I have done in This Volume of Epistles, as a good Husband does with his Cold Meat; They are only a Hache made up of the Fragments that remained of the Two Former Parts; which I could not well dispose of into any Other Form; or so Properly Publish under any Other Title. Let me not yet be understood to Impose This Piece upon the Public, as an Abstract of Seneca's Epistles; any more than I did the Other, for the Abstracts of his Benefits, and Happy Life. It is in works of This Nature, as it is in Cordial Waters, we Taste all the Ingredients, without being able to Separate This from That; but still we find the Virtue of every Plant, in every Drop. To return to my Allegory; Books, and Dishes have This Common Fate; there was never any One, of Either of them, that pleased All Palates. And, in Truth, it is a Thing as little to be Wished for, as Expected; For, an Universal Applause is at least Two Thirds of a Scandal. So that though I deliver up these Papers to the Press, I Invite no Man to the Reading of them: And, whosoever Reads, and Reputes; it is his Own Fault. To Conclude, as I made this Composition Principally for myself, so it agrees exceedingly Well with My Constitution; and yet, if any Man has a Mind to take part with me, he has Free Leave, and Welcome. But, let him Carry This Consideration along with him, That He's a very Unmannerly Guest, that presses upon another Body's Table, and then Quarrels with his Dinner.  
The End.