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,THE 
 
 
 FABLE OF THE BEES; 
 
 TLIVATE VICES PUBLIC BENEFITS. 
 
 
 WITH AN ESSAY ON 
 
 CHARITY AND CHARITY SCHOOLS, 
 
 AND A SEARCH INTO 
 
 THE NATURE OF SOCIETY: 
 
 A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK FROM THE ASPERSIONS CONTAINED 
 
 IX A PRESENTMENT OF THE GRAND JURY OF MIDDLESEX, 
 
 AND AN ABUSIVE LETTER TO LORD C- . 
 
 LONDON; 
 
 PUBLISHED BY T. OSTELL, AVE-MARIA LANE, LONDON, AND 
 SIUNDELL AND SON, EDINBURGH. 
 
 1806, 
 
** v V 
 
 yfc* 
 
 
 Edinburgh, printed ly jMui:dcll crd Sit 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Page 
 
 Preface*, ------- iii 
 
 The Grumbling Hive ; or Knaves turrid Honejl, - i 
 
 The Introduction, ------ 12 
 
 An Inquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue , - 13 
 
 Remarks, ------- 23 
 
 An Effay on Charity and Charity Schools. - - 155 
 
 A Search into the Nature of Society, - 205 
 A Vindication of the Book, from the Afperjions contained in 
 
 a prefentment of the Grand Jury of Middlefex, and an 
 
 Ahujive Letter to Lord C , - - * 237 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Preface ----«-* 261 
 
 The Fir/l D - 279 
 
 The Seco::: : e, - - - 302 
 
 The Tbira , - - - - - 331 
 
 The Fourth jjialogue, ... - - - - - 366 
 
 The Fifth Dialogue, ----- 400 
 
 The Sixth Dialogue, - - - - - 451 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Laws and government are to the political bodies of civil fo- 
 cieties, what the vital fpirits and life itlelf are to the natural 
 bodies of animated creatures ; and as thofe that ftudy the 
 anatomy of dead carcafes may fee, that the chief organs and 
 niceft fprings more immediately required to continue the 
 motion of our machine, are not hard bones, ftrong mufcies 
 and nerves, nor the fmooth white fein, that fo beautifully 
 covers them, but fmall trifling films, and little pipes, that are 
 either overlooked or elfe feem inconfiderable to vulgar eyes; 
 fo they that examine into the nature of man, ahitracl from 
 art and education, may obferve, that what renders him a fo- 
 ciable animal, conliits not in his delire of company, good na- 
 ture, pity, affability, and other graces of a fair outride ; but 
 that his vileft and raoft hateful qualities are the moft neceffa- 
 ry accomplifhments to fit him for the larger!, and, according 
 to the world, the happieit and mbft flourifhing focieties. 
 
 The following Fable, in which what I have faid is fet forth 
 at large, was printed above eight years ago *, in a fix penny 
 pamphlet, called, The Grumbling Hive y or Knaves turn'd 
 Honefl ; and being foon after pirated, cried about the ftreets 
 in a halfpenny meet. Since the firft publifhing of it, I have 
 met with feveral that, either wilfully or ignorantly miftaking 
 the defign, would have it, that the fcope of it was a fatire 
 upon virtue and morality, and the whole wrote for the en- 
 couragement of vice. This made me refolve, whenever it 
 fhould be reprinted, fome way or other to inform the reader 
 of the real intent this little poem was wrote, with. I do not 
 dignify thefe few loofe lines with the name of Poem, that I 
 would have the reader expect any poetry in them, but bare- 
 ly becaufe they are rhyme, and I am in reality puzzled what 
 nan^ to give them ; for they are neither heroic nor pafloral, 
 fatire, burlefque, nor heroi-comie; to be a tale they want pro- 
 bability, and the whole is rather too long for a fable. All I 
 can fay of them is, that they are a ftory told in doggerel, which, 
 without the leafl defign of being witty, I have endeavoured 
 to do in as eafy and familiar a manner as I was able : the 
 reader ihall be welcome to call them what he pleafes. It 
 
 * This was wrote in 17 14. 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 was faidof Montagne, that he was pretty well verfed in the 
 defects of mankind, bat unacquainted with the excellencies 
 of human nature : if I fare no worfe, I mail think myielf 
 well ufed. 
 
 What country foever in the univerfe is to be underftood 
 by the Bee-Hive repreiented here, it is evident, from what is 
 faid of the laws and conflitution of it, the glory, wealth, 
 power, and induftry of its inhabitants, that it muit be a large, 
 rich and warlike nation, that is happily governed by a limit- 
 ed monarchy. The fatire, therefore, to be met with in the 
 following lines, upon the feverai profeflions and callings, and 
 almoft every degree and ftation of people, was not made to 
 injure and point to particular perfons, but only to fhow the 
 vilenefs of the ingredients that altogether compofe the whole- 
 fome mixture of a well-ordered fociety ; in order to extol the 
 wonderful power of political wifdom, by the help of which ib 
 beautiful a machine is railed from the moil contemptible 
 branches. For the main deflgn of the Fable (as it is briefly 
 explained in the Moral), is to fhow the imp 
 ing all the moll elegant comforts of life, that are to be met 
 with in anirjduftrious, wealthy and powerful nation, and at the 
 fame time, be blefled with all the virtue and innocence that 
 can be wifhed for in a golden age ; from thence to expofe the 
 unreafonableneis and folly of thofe, that deiirous of beir 
 opulent and ffourifhing people, and wonderfully greedy after 
 all the benefits they can receive as fuch, are yet always mur- 
 muring at and exclaiming againft thofe vices and inconveni- 
 ences, that from the beginning of the world to this prefent 
 day, have been infeparable from all kingdoms and Hates, that 
 ever were famed, for ftrength, riches, and poiitcnefs, at the 
 fame time. 
 
 To do this, I firfl flightly touch upon fome of the faults 
 and corruptions the feverai profeflions and callings are gene- 
 rally charged with. After that I flow that thofe very vices, 
 of every particular perfon, by fkilful management, were made 
 ftsbfervient to the grandeur and worldly happinefs of the 
 whole. Laftly, By letting forth what of necelTity mull be 
 the confequence of general honeily and virtue, and nation- 
 al temperance, innocence and content, I demonftrate that 
 if mankind could be cured of the failings they arc naturally 
 guilty of, they would ceafe to be capable of being rail- 
 ed into i\,Lh vail potent and polite focieties, as they have 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 been under the feveral great commonweal- lis and mo- 
 narchies that have fiourifhed fince the creation. 
 
 If you afk me, why I have done all this, citi bono P and 
 what good thefe notions will produce? truly, beiides the 
 reader's diveriion, I believe none at all ; but if I was a&ed 
 what naturally ought to be expected from them, I would 
 anfwer, that, in the mil place, the people who continually 
 find fault with others, by reading them, would be taught to 
 look at home, and examining their own conferences, be 
 made afhamed of always railing at what they are more or 
 lefs guilty of themfelves ; and that, in the next, thofe who 
 are fo fond of the eafe and comforts, and reap ail the bene- 
 fits that are the confequence of a great and iiounmmg nation, 
 would learn more patiently to fubmit to thofe inconveni- 
 ences, which no government upon earth can remedy, when 
 they mould fee the impoliibility of enjoying any great (hare 
 of the firft, without partaking ltkewife of the latter. 
 
 This, I fay, ought naturally to be expected from the pub- 
 lifhing of thefe notions, if people were to be made better by 
 any thing that could be faid to them ; but mankind having 
 for fo many ages remained {till the fame, notwithstanding 
 the many imlructive and elaborate writings, by which their 
 amendment has been endeavoured, I am not fo vain as to 
 hope for better fuccefs from fo inconfiderable a trifle. 
 
 Having allowed the imall advantage this little whim is 
 likely to produce, I think myfelf obliged to mow that it can- 
 not be prejudicial to any ; for what is pubiiihed, if it does 
 no good, ought at lead to do no harm : in order to this, I 
 have made fome explanatory notes, to which the reader will 
 find himfelf referred in thofe paffages that feem to be moft 
 liable to exceptions. 
 
 The cenforious, that never faw the Grumbling Hive, will 
 tell me, that whatever I may talk of the Fable, it not taking 
 up a tenth part of the book, was only contrived to introduce 
 the Remarks ; that inilead of clearing up the doubtful or 
 obfcure places, I have only pitched upon fuch as I had a 
 mind to expatiate upon ; and that far from flriving to extenu- 
 ate the errors committed before, I have made bad worfe, 
 and mown myfelf a more barefaced champion for vice, in 
 the rambling digreflions, than I had done in the Fable itlelf. 
 
 I mall fpend no time in aniwering thefe accufations: where 
 men are prejudiced, the belt apologies are loft ; and I know 
 that thofe who thmk it criminal to fnppofe a neceffity of 
 
YI11 PREFACE. 
 
 vice in any cafe whatever, will never be reconciled to any 
 part of the performance ; but if this be thoroughly examin- 
 ed, all the offence it can give mufl refult from the wrong in- 
 ferences that may perhaps be drawn from it, and which I 
 defire nobody to make. When I affert that vices are infe- 
 parable from great and potent locieties, and that it is impof- 
 ■fible their wealth and grandeur fhould fubfitt without, 1 do 
 not fay that the'particular members of them who are guilty 
 of any fhould not be continually reproved, or not be punifh- 
 ed for them when they grow into crimes. 
 
 There are, I believe, few people in London, of thofe that 
 are at any time forced to go a- foot, but what could wifh the 
 ftreets of it much cleaner than generally they are ; while 
 they regard nothing but their own clothes and private con- 
 veniency ; but when once they come to conlider, that what 
 offends them, is the refult of the plen-y. great traffic, and opu- 
 lency of that mighty city, if they have any concern in its 
 welfare, they will hurclly ever wifh to fee the ftreets of it lefs 
 dirty. For if wc mind the materials of all forts that mult 
 fupply fuch an infinite number of trades and handicrafts, as 
 are always going forward ; the vail quantity of victuals, 
 drink, and fuel, that are daily c< niumed in it; the wafle 
 and fuperrluities that mult be produced from them ; the mul- 
 titudes of horfes, and other cattle, that are always dawbing 
 the ftreets; the carts, coachts, and more heavy carriages that 
 are perpetually wearing and breaking the pavement of them; 
 and, above ail, the numberleis fwarms of people that are 
 continually haralhng and trampling through every part of 
 them : If, I fay, we mind all thefe, we (hall find, that every 
 moment mult produce new filth ; and, conlidering how far 
 diftant the great itreets are from the river fide, what coil 
 and care foever be bellowed to remove the naltinefs almolt 
 as fait as it is made, it is impoffible London fhould be more 
 cleanly before it is lefs flpuriihing. Now would I afk, if a 
 good citizen, in confideration of what has been faid, might 
 not ailert, that dirty Itreets are a necefiary evil, infeparable 
 from the felicity of London, without being the lealt hinder- 
 ance to the cleaning of fhoes, or fweeping of Itreets, and 
 confequently without any prejudice either to the blackguard 
 or the fcavingers. 
 
 But if, without any regard to the interefl or happinefs of 
 the city, the queftion was put, What place I thought moll 
 pkafant to walk in? Nobody can doubt, but before the 
 
P k E F A C E, IX 
 
 ftinking ftreets of London, I would efteem a fragrant gar- 
 den, or a fhady grove in the country. In the fame manner, 
 if laying afide all worldly greatnefs and vain glory, I mould 
 be afked where I thought it was moft probable that men 
 might enjoy true happinefs, I would prefer a fmall peaceable 
 fociety, in which men, neither envied nor efteemed by 
 neighbours, mould be contented to live upon the natural 
 product of the fpot they inhabit, to a vail multitude abound- 
 ing in wealth and power, that mould always be conquering 
 others by their arms abroad, and debauching themfelves by 
 foreign luxury at home. 
 
 Thus much I had faid to the reader in the firft edition ; 
 and have added nothing by way of preface in the fecond. 
 But fince that, a violent outcry has been made againft the 
 book, exactly anfwering the expectation I always had of the 
 juftice, the wifdom, the charity, and fair-dailing of thofe 
 whofe good will I defpaired of. It has been prefented by the 
 Grand Jury, and condemned by thoufands who never faw a 
 word of it. It has been preached againft before my Lord 
 Mayor ; and an utter refutation of it is daily expected from 
 a reverend divine, who has called me names in the advertife- 
 ments, and threatened to anfwer me in two months time for 
 above five months together. What I have to fay for my- 
 felf, the reader will fee in my Vindication at the end of the 
 book, where he will like wife find the Grand Jury's Prefer- 
 ment, and a letter to the Right Honourable Lord C. which 
 is very rhetorical beyond argument or connection. The au- 
 thor (hows a fine talent for invectives, and great fagacity in 
 difcovering atheifm, where others can find none. He is zeal- 
 ous againft wicked books, points at the Fable of the Bees, 
 and is very angry with the author: He bellows fourftrong 
 epithets on the enormity of his guilt, and by feveral elegant 
 inuendos to the multitude, as the danger there is in fufFering 
 fuch authors to live, and the vengeance of Heaven upon a 
 whole nation, very charitably recommends him to their care. 
 
 Confidering the length of this epiftle, and that it is not 
 wholly levelled at me only, I thought at firft to have made 
 fome extracts from it of what related to myfelf ; but finding, 
 on a nearer inquiry, that what concerned me was fo blended 
 arilfinterwoven with what did not, I was obliged to trouble 
 the reader with it entire, not without hopes that, prolix as it 
 is, the extravagancy of it will be entertaining to to thofe who 
 have perufed the treatife it condemns with fo much horror. 
 
 b 4 
 
THE 
 
 GRUMBLING HIVE 
 
 OR, 
 
 KNAVES TURN'D HONEST. 
 
 A spacious hive well ftock'd with bees, 
 That liv'd in luxury and eafe ; 
 And yet as fam'd for laws and arms, 
 As yielding large and early fwarms ; 
 
 Was counted the great nuriery g 
 
 Of fciences and induftry. 
 No bees had better government, 
 More ficklenefs, or lefs content : 
 They were not fiaves to tyranny, 
 
 Nor rul'd by wild democracy; 10 
 
 But kings, that could not wrong, becaufe 
 Their power was circumfcrib'd by laws. 
 Theie infects liv'd like men, and all 
 Our actions they perform' d in fmall : 
 
 They did whatever' s done in town, ig 
 
 And what belongs to fword or gown : 
 Though th' artful works, by nimble flight 
 Of minute limbs, 'fcap'd human light; 
 Yet ne've no engines, labourers, 
 
 Ships, caiiles, arms, artificers, 20 
 
 Craft, fcience, mop, or inftrument, 
 But they had an equivalent : 
 Which, fince their language is unknown, 
 Muft be call'd, as w 7 e do our own. 
 
 As grant, that among other things, 25 
 
 They wanted dice, yet they had kings ; 
 And thole had guards ; from whence we may 
 Juiily conclude, they had fome play; 
 
 B 
 
2 THE GRUMBLING HIVE : OR, 
 
 Unlefs a regiment be fhown 
 
 Of foldiers, that makeufe of none. 30 
 
 Vaft numbers throng' d the fruitful hive ; 
 Yet thofe vaft numbers made 'em thrive ; 
 Millions endeavouring to fupply 
 Each other's luff and vanity ; 
 
 While other millions were employ 'd, 35 
 
 To fee their handy-works deflroy'd ; 
 They furnifn'd half the univerfe ; 
 Yet had more work than labourers. 
 Some with vaft ftocks, and little pains, 
 
 Jump'd into buiinefs of great gains ; 43 
 
 And fome were damn'd to fcythes and fpades, 
 And all thofe hard laborious trades ; 
 Where willing wretches daily fweat, 
 And wear out ftrength and limbs to eat : 
 While others follow' d myfteries, 45 
 
 To which few folks binds 'prentices ; 
 That want no ftock, but that of brais, 
 And may fet up without a crofs ; 
 As fharpers, parafites, pimps, players, 
 
 Pickpockets, coiners, quacks, iouthfayers-, 50 
 
 A.nd all thofe, that in enmity, 
 With downrright working, cunningly 
 Convert to their own ufe the labour 
 Of their good- hat ur*d heedlefs neighbour. 
 Thefe were call'd Knaves, but bar the name, $$ 
 
 The grave induftrious were the fame : 
 All trades and places knew fome cheat, 
 No calling was without deceit. 
 
 The lawyers, of whofe art the bafis 
 Was railing feuds and fplitting cafes, 60 
 
 Oppos'd all regifters, that cheats 
 Might make more work with dipt eftates 5 
 As were't unlawful, that one's own, 
 Without a law-fuit, fliould be known. 
 
 They kept off hearings wilfully, 65 
 
 To finger the refrefhing fee ; 
 And to defend a wicked caufe, 
 Examin'd and furvey'd the laws, 
 As burglar's fhops and houfes do, 
 To find out where they'd bell break through. 70 
 
KNAVES TURN'd HONEST. 3 
 
 Phyficians valu'd fame and wealth 
 Above the drooping patient's health, 
 Or their own fkill : the greateft part 
 Study'd, inftead of rules of art, 
 
 Grave penfive looks and dull behaviour, 75 
 
 To gain th' apothecary's favour ; 
 The praife of mid wives, priefts, and all 
 j^That ferv'd at birth or funeral. 
 To bear with th' ever-talking tribe, 
 
 And hear my lady's aunt prefcribe ; So 
 
 With formal fmile, and kind how d'ye, 
 To fawn on all the family ; 
 And, which of all the greateft curfe is, 
 T' endure th' impertinence of nurfes. 
 
 Among the many priefts of Jove, $S 
 
 Hir'd to draw bleflings from above, 
 Some few were learn' d and eloquent, 
 Butthoufands hot and ignorant : 
 Yet all pafs'd mufter that could hide 
 
 Their {loth, luft, avarice arid pride ; 9© 
 
 For which they were as fam'd as tailors 
 For cabbage, or for brandy failors, 
 Some, meagre-look'd, and meanly clad, 
 Would myftically pray for bread, 
 
 Meaning by that an ample ftore, 95 
 
 Yet lit' rally received no more ; 
 And, while thefe holy drudges flarv'd, 
 The lazy ones, for which they ferv'd, 
 Indulg'd their eafe, with all the graces 
 Of health and plenty in their faces. 100 
 
 The foldiers, that were forc'd to fight, 
 If they furviv'd, got honour by't ; 
 Though fome, that iliunn'd the bloody fray, 
 Had limbs fhot off, that ran away : 
 
 Some valiant gen'rals fought the foe ; 105 
 
 Others took bribes to let them go : 
 Some ventur'd always where 'twas warm, 
 Loft now a leg, and then an arm ; 
 Till quite diflabled, and put by, 
 
 They liv'd on half their falary ; 1 10 
 
 While others never came in play, 
 And ftaid at home for double pay. 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE GRUMBLING HIVE I OR, 
 
 Their kings were ferv'd, but knavifhly, 
 Cheated by their own miniftry ; 
 
 Many, that for their welfare 11a ved, I r < 
 
 Robbing the very crown they faved : 
 Pennons were fmall, and they liv'd high, 
 Yet boafted of their honefty. 
 Calling, whene'er they ftrain'd their right. 
 The llipp'ry trick a perquilite ; 120 
 
 And when folks underftood their cant, 
 They changed that for emolument ; 
 Unwilling to be fhort or plain, 
 In any thing concerning gain ; 
 
 Tor there was not a bee but would 125 
 
 Get more, I won't fay, than he Qiould; 
 But than he dar'd to let them know, 
 That pay'd for't ; as your gamefters do, 
 That, though at fair play, ne'er will own 
 Before the lofers that they've won. 130 
 
 But w r ho can all their frauds repeat ? 
 The very fturi which in the flreet 
 They fold for dirt t' enrich the ground, 
 Was often by the buyers found 
 
 Sophifticated with a quarter 135 
 
 Of good for-nothing (tones and mortar; 
 Though Flail had little caufe to mutter, 
 Who fold the other fait for butter. 
 
 Juftice herielf, fam'd for fair dealing, 
 By blindnefs had not loft her feeling ; J40 
 
 Her left hand, which the fcales mould hold, 
 Had often dropt 'em, brib'd with gold ; 
 And, though me feem'd impartial, 
 Where puniihment was corporal, 
 
 Pretended to a reg'lar courfe, 145 
 
 In murder, and all crimes of force ; 
 Though fome firit pillory'd for cheating, 
 Were hang'd in hemp of their own beating ; 
 Yet, it was thought, the fword (he bore 
 Check'd but the defp'rate and the poor ; 150 
 
 That, urg'd by mere neceffity, 
 Were ty'd up to the wretched tree 
 For crimes, which not deferv'd that fate ? 
 But to fecure the rich and great, 
 
KNAVES TURNED HONEST* $ 
 
 Thus every part was full of vice, ^55 
 
 Yet the whole mafs a paradife ; 
 Flatter' d in peace, and fear'd in wars 
 They were th' efteem of foreigners, 
 And lavifh of their wealth and lives, 
 
 The balance of all other hives. i6o 
 
 Such were the bleffings of that ft ate ; 
 Their crimes confpir'd to make them great i 
 And virtue, who from politics 
 Has learn' d a thoufand cunning tricks, 
 
 Was, by their happy influence, i6$ 
 
 Made friends with vice : And ever fince, 
 The worft of all the multitude 
 Did fomething for the common good. 
 
 This was the Hate's craft, that maintain'd 
 The whole of which each part complain'd : ijo 
 
 This, as in mulic harmony 
 Made jarrings in the main agree, 
 Parties directly oppofite, 
 Affift each other, as 'twere for fpite ; 
 
 And temp' ranee with fobriety, i'7§ 
 
 Serve drunkennefs and gluttony. 
 
 The root of evil, avarice, 
 That damn'd ill-natur d baneful vice. 
 Was Have to prodigality, 
 
 That noble fin ; whilft luxury "t%6 
 
 Employ'd a million of the poor, 
 And odious pride a million more : 
 Lnvy itfelf, and vanity, 
 Were miniiters of induftry ; 
 
 Their darling folly, ficklenefs, 185 
 
 In diet, furniture, and drefs, 
 That ilrange ridie'lous vice, was made 
 The very wheel that turn'd the trade. 
 Their laws and clothes were equally 
 
 Objects of mutability ! t^O 
 
 Tor, what was well done for a time, 
 Jn half a year became a crime ; 
 Yet while they alter' d thus their laws> 
 Still finding and correcting flaws, 
 
 They mended by inconftancy £95 
 
 Faults, which no prudence could forefee, 
 
 B 3 
 
5 THE GRUMBLING HIVE ! OK, 
 
 Thus vice hurs'd ingenuity, 
 Which join' d the time and induftry, 
 Had carry'd life's conveniences, 
 
 Its r eal pleafures, comforts, eafe, 2C<i 
 
 To fuch a height, the very poor -1 
 
 Liv'd better than the rich before. > 
 
 And nothing could be added more. J 
 
 How vain is mortal hapinefs ! 
 Had they but known the bounds of blifs } 205 
 
 And that perfection here below 
 Is more than gods can well beftow ; 
 The grumbling brutes had been content 
 With minifters and government. 
 
 But they, at every ill fuccefs, 2 to 
 
 Like creatures loft without redrefs, 
 Curs'd politicians, armies, fleets ; 
 While every one cry'd, damn the cheats, 
 And would, though confcious of his own, 
 In others barb'rouily bear none. 215 
 
 One, that had got a princely ftore, 
 By cheating mafter, king, and poor, 
 Dar'd cry aloud, the land muft fink 
 Tor all its fraud ; and whom d'ye think 
 The fermonizing rafcal chid ? 220 
 
 A glover that fold lamb for kid. 
 
 The lead thing was not done amifs, 
 Or crofs'd the public bufinefs ; 
 But all the rogues cry'd brazenly, 
 
 Good gods, had we but honefly I 225 
 
 Merc'ry fmil'd at th' impudence. 
 And others call'd it want of fenfe, 
 Always to rail at what they lov'd : 
 But Jove with indignation mov'd, 
 
 At lafl in anger fwore, he'd rid 23c 
 
 The bawling hive of fraud ; and did, 
 The very moment it departs, 
 And honefty fills all their hearts ; 
 There fhows 'em, like th' inftrudtive tree, 
 Thofe crimes which they're afham'd to fee ; 235 
 
 Which now in filence they confefs, 
 By blufhing at their uglinefs : 
 
KNAVES TURN'S HONEST. J 
 
 Like children, that would hide their faults* 
 
 And by their colour own their thoughts : 
 
 Imag'ning, when they're loook'd upon, 240 
 
 That others fee what they have done. 
 
 But, O ye gods ! what confirmation, 
 How vail and fudden was th' alteration I 
 In half an hour, the nation round, 
 
 Meat fell a penny in the pound. 245 
 
 The malk hypocrify's fitting down. 
 From the great ftatefman to the clown : 
 And in fome borrow'd looks well known. 
 Appear' d like ftrangers in their own. 
 
 The bar was filent from that day ; 250 
 
 For now the willing debtors pay, 
 Ev'n what's by creditors forgot; 
 Who quitted them that had it not. 
 Thofe that were in the wrong, flood mute, 
 And dropt the patch'd vexatious fait : 255 
 
 On which fince nothing elfe can thrive, 
 Than lawyers in an honeft hive, 
 All, except thofe that got enough, 
 With inkhorns by their fides troop' d off, 
 
 Juftice hang'd fome, fet others free ; 260 
 
 And after gaol delivery, 
 Her prefence being no more requir'd, 
 With all her train and pomp retir'd. 
 Firft march'd fome fmiths with locks and grates, 
 Fetters, and doors with iron plates : 365 
 
 Next gaolers, turnkeys and ailiftants : 
 Before the goddefs, at fome dirlance, 
 Her chief and faithful minifter, 
 'Squire Gatch, the law's great finifher, 
 
 Bore not th' imaginary fword, 270 
 
 But his own tools, an ax and cord : 
 Then on a cloud the hood-wink'd fair, • 
 Jufiice herfelf was puih'd by air : 
 About her chariot, and behind, 
 
 Were ferjeants, bums of every kind, 275 
 
 Tip-ftaffs, and all thofe officers, 
 That fqueeze a living out of tears. 
 
 Though phyiic liv'd, while folks were ill. 
 None would prefcribe, but bees of fkill, 
 
 B 4 
 
8 THE GRUMBLING HIVE .* OR, 
 
 Which through the hive difpers'd fo wide, 280 
 
 That none of them had need to ride ; 
 
 Wav'd vain difputes, and ftrove to free 
 
 The patients of their mifery ; 
 
 Left drugs in cheating countries grown, 
 
 And us'd the product of their own ; 285 
 
 Knowing the gods fent no diieafe, 
 
 To nations without remedies. 
 
 Their clergy rous'd from lazinefs, 
 Laid not their charge on journey-bees ; 
 But ferv'd themfelves, exempt from vice, 290 
 
 The gods with pray'r and facrifice ; 
 All thofe, that were unfit, or knew, 
 Their fervice might be fpar'd, withdrew : 
 Nor was their bufinefs for fo many, 
 
 (If th' honeft (land in need of any,) 295 
 
 Few only with the high- pried haid, 
 To whom the reft obedience paid : 
 Himfelf employ'd in holy cares : 
 Refign'd to others Hate -affairs. 
 
 He chas'd no ftarv'ling from his door, 300 
 
 Nor pinch'd the wages of the poor : 
 But at his houfe the hungry's fed, 
 The hireling finds unmeafur'd bread. 
 The needy trav'ller board and bed. 
 
 Among the king's great minflers, 305 
 
 And all th' inferior officers, 
 The change was great ; for frugally 
 They now liv'd on their falary : 
 That a poor bee mould ten times come 
 To afk his due, a trifling fum, 310 
 
 And by fome well-hir'd clerk be made 
 To give a crown, or ne'er be paid, 
 Would now be calPd a downright cheat, 
 Though formerly a perquifite. 
 
 All places manag'd firft by three, 315 
 
 Who watch'd each other's knavery 
 And often for a fellow-feeling, 
 Promoted one another's ftealing, 
 Are happily fupply'd by one, 
 By which fome thoufands more are gone, 320 
 
 No honour now could be content, 
 To live and owe for what was fpent ; 
 
 1 
 
knave's turn'd HONEST. *} 
 
 Liv'ries in brokers fhops are hung, 
 
 They part with coaches for. a fong ; 
 
 Sell ftately horfes by whole fets ; 325 
 
 And country-houfes, to pay debts. 
 
 Vain coil is ihunn'd as much as fraud ; 
 They have no forces kept abroad ; 
 Laugh at th' efteem of foreigners, 
 
 And empty glory got by wars ; 330 
 
 They fight but for their country's fake, 
 When right or liberty's at flake. 
 
 Now mind the glorious hive, and fee 
 How honefty and trade agree. 
 
 The fhow is gone, it thins apace ; 335 
 
 And looks with quite another face. 
 For 'twas not only that they went, 
 By whom vaft fums were yearly fpent ; 
 But multitudes that liv'd on them., 
 
 Were daily forc'd to do the fame. , 340 
 
 In vain to other trades they'd fly ; 
 All were o'er-ftock'd accordingly. 
 
 The price of land and houfes falls ; 
 Mirac'lous palaces, whofe walls, 
 
 Like thofe of Thebes, were rais'd by play, 345 
 
 Are to be let ; while the once gay, 
 Well-feated houfehold gods would be 
 More pleas'd to expire in flames, than fee 
 The mean infcription on the door 
 
 Smile at the lofty ones they bore. 350 
 
 The building trade is quite deftroy'd, 
 Artificers are not employ'd ; 
 No limner for his art is fam'd, 
 Stone-cutters, carvers are not nam'd. 
 
 Thofe, that remain'd, grown temp'rate, ftrive, 355 
 
 Not how to fpend, but how to live ; 
 And, when they paid their tavern fcore, 
 Refolv'd to enter it no more : 
 No vintner's jilt in all the hive 
 
 Could wear now cloth of gold, and thrive ; 360 
 
 Nor Torcol fuch vail fums advance, 
 For Burgundy and Ortelans ; 
 The courtier's gone that with his mifs 
 Supp'd at his houfe on Chriftmas peas * 
 
%G T"KE GRUMBLING HIVE ! OR, 
 
 Spending as much in two hours flay, 365 
 
 As keeps a troop of horfe a day. 
 
 The haughty Chloe, to live great, 
 Had made her hufband rob the ftate : 
 But now fire fells her furniture, 
 
 Which th' Indies had been ranfack'd for ; 370 
 
 Contracts the expenfive bill of fare, 
 And wears her ftrong fuit a whole year : 
 The flight and fickle age is pari ; 
 And clothes, as well as fafhions. laft. 
 
 Weavers, that join'd rich iilk with plate, 375 
 
 And all the trades fubordinate, 
 Are gone ; Hill peace and plenty reign, 
 And every thing is cheap, though plain : 
 Kind nature, free from gard'ners force, 
 Allows all fruits in her own courfe ; 380 
 
 But rarities cannot be had, 
 Where pains to get them are not paid. 
 
 As pride and luxury decreafe, 
 So by degrees they leave the leas. 
 
 Not merchants now, but companies 3S5 
 
 Remove whole manufactories. 
 All arts and crafts neglected lie ; 
 Content, the bane of induftry, 
 Makes 'em admire their homely ftore, 
 And neither leek nor covet more. 393 
 
 So few in the vaft hive remain, 
 The hundredth part they can't maintain 
 Againft th' infults of numerous fees; 
 "Whom yet they valiantly oppofe : 
 
 'Till fome well fene'd retreat is found, 395 
 
 And here they die or Hand their ground. 
 No hireling in their army's known ; 
 But bravely fighting for their .own, 
 Their courage and integrity 
 At laft were crown' d with victory. 400 
 
 They triumph' d not without their coft, 
 For many thoufand bees were loft. 
 Harden' d with toils and exercife, 
 They counted eafe itfelf a vice ; 
 
 Which fo improv'd their temperance ; 405 
 
 That, to avoid extravagance, 
 
KNAVES TURNED HONEST. lX 
 
 They flew into a hollow tree, 
 Bleft with content and honefly, 
 
 THE MORAL. 
 
 Then leave complaints : fools only flrive 
 
 To make a great an honefl hive. 41® 
 
 T' enjoy the world's conveniences, 
 
 Be fam'd in war, yet live in eafe, 
 
 Without great vices, is a vain 
 
 Eutopia feated in the brain. 
 
 Fraud, luxury, and pride mull live, 4*5 
 
 While we the benefits receive : 
 
 Hunger's a dreadful plague, no doubt J 
 
 Yet who digefls or thrives without ? J 
 
 Do we not owe the growth of wine 
 
 To the dry fhabby crooked vine ? _, 2 © 
 
 Which, while its moots neglected flood, 
 
 Chok'd other plants, and ran to wood ; 
 
 But bleft us with its noble fruit, 
 
 As foon as it was ty'd and cut : 
 
 So vice is beneficial found, 425 
 
 When it's by juftice lopp'd and bound ; 
 
 Nay, where the people would be great, 
 
 As neceffary to the ftate, 
 
 As hunger is to make 'em eat. 
 
 Bare virtue can't make nations live 
 
 In lplendor ; they, that would revive 
 
 A golden age, mufl be as free, 
 
 For acorns as for honefly. 433 
 
 1 
 
THE 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 One of the greateft reafons why fo few people underftand 
 themfelves, is, that moft writers are always teaching men 
 what they mould be, and hardly ever trouble their heads 
 with telling them what they really are. As for my part, 
 without any compliment to the courteous reader, or myfelf, 
 I believe man (befides fkin, flefli, bones, &c. that are obvi- 
 ous to the eye) to be a compound of various paflions ; that 
 all of them, as they are provoked and come uppermofl, go- 
 vern him by turns, whether he will or no. To fhow that 
 thefe qualifications, which we all pretend to be aihamed of, 
 are the great fupport of a flourifhing fociety, has been the 
 fubjecl of the foregoing poem. But there being fome paf- 
 fages in it feemingly paradoxical, I have in the preface pro- 
 mifed fome explanatory remarks on it ; which, to render 
 more ufeful, I have thought fit to inquire, how man, no bet- 
 ter qualified, might yet by his own imperfections be taught 
 to diftinguifh between virtue and vice : and here I mull de- 
 lire the reader once for all to take notice, that when 1 fay 
 men, I mean neither Jews nor Chriftians ; but mere man, in 
 the ftate of nature and ignorance of the true Deity. 
 
INQUIRY 
 
 ORIGIN OF MORAL VIRTUE. 
 
 All untaught animals are only folicitous of pleafing them- 
 felves, and naturally follow the bent of their own inclina- 
 tions, without considering the good or harm that, from their 
 being pleafed, will accrue to others. This is the reafon that, 
 in the wild Hate of nature, thofe creatures are fitted to live 
 peaceably together in great numbers, that diicover the leaft 
 of underftanding, and have the fewed appetites to gratify ; 
 and confequently no fpecies of animals is, without the curb 
 of government, lefs capable of agreeing long together in mul- 
 titudes, than that of man ; yet fuch are his qualities, whether 
 good or bad I fhall not determine, that no creature beiides 
 himfelf can ever be made fociable : but being an extraordi- 
 nary felfifh and headftrong, as well as cunning animal, how- 
 ever he may be fubdued by fuperior flrength, it is impoffible 
 by force alone to make him tractable, and receive the im- 
 provements he his capable of. 
 
 The chief thing, therefore, which lawgivers, and other- wife 
 men that have laboured for the edaoliihment of fociety, 
 have endeavoured, has been to make the people they were 
 to govern, believe, that it was more beneficial for every body 
 to conquer than indulge his appetites, and much better to 
 mind the public than what feemed his private interelt. As 
 this has always been a very difficult talk, lb no wit or elo- 
 quence has been left untried to compafs it ; and the mo- 
 ralifts and philofophers of all ages employed their utmoft Ikill 
 to prove the truth of fo ufeful an alTertion. But whether 
 mankind would have ever believed it or not, it is not likely 
 that any body could have perfuaded them to difapprove of 
 their natural inclinations, or prefer the good of others to 
 their own, if, at the fame time, he had not mowed them an 
 equivalent to be enjoyed as a reward for the violence, which, 
 by fo doing, they of neceffity mud commit upon themfelves. 
 Thofe that have undertaken to civilize mankind, were not 
 ignorant of this ; but bein^ unable to give fo many real re- 
 
14 AN INQUIRE INTO 
 
 wards as would fatisfy all perfons for every individual action, 
 they were forced to contrive an imaginary one, that, as a ge- 
 neral equivalent for the trouble of felf-denial, fhould ferve 
 on all occafions, and without cofting any thing either to 
 themfelves or others, be yet a moil acceptable recompence to 
 the receivers. 
 
 They thoroughly examined all the nrength and frailties of 
 our nature, and obferving that none were either fo favage as 
 not to be charmed with praife, or fo defpicable as patiently 
 to bear contempt, juftly concluded, that flattery mult be the 
 mcft powerful argument that could be ufed to human crea- 
 tures. Making ufe of this bewitching engine, they extolled 
 the excellency of our nature above other animals, and fet- 
 ting forth with unbounded praifes the wonders of our fagaci- 
 ty and vaftnefs of underilanding, bellowed a thoufand enco- 
 miums on the rationality of our fouls, by the help of which 
 we were capable of performing the mofl noble achievements. 
 Having, by this artful way of flattery, infinuated themfelves 
 into the hearts of men, they began to inftrudl them in the 
 notions of honour and fhame; reprefenting the one as the 
 worfl of all evils, and the other as the higheil good to which 
 mortals could afpire : which being done, they laid before 
 them how unbecoming it was the dignity offuch fublime 
 creatures to be folicitous about gratifying thofe appetites, 
 which they had in common with brutes, and at the fame time 
 unmindful of thofe higher qualities that gave them the pre- 
 eminence over all vifible beings. They indeed conferred, 
 that thofe impulfes of nature were very prefling ; that it was 
 troublefome to refill, and very difficult wholly to fubdue 
 them. But this they only ufed as an argument to demon- 
 flrate, how glorious the conquelt of them was on the one 
 hand, and how fcandalous on the other not to attempt it. 
 
 To introduce, moreover, an emulation amongtl men, they 
 divided the whole fpecies into two clalTes, vailly differing 
 from one another: the one confuted of abject, low-minded 
 people, that always hunting after immediate enjoyment, 
 were wholly incapable of felf-denial, and without regard to 
 the good of others, had no higher aim than their private ad- 
 vantage ; fuch as being enllaved by voluptuoufnei?, yielded^ 
 without refifTance to every grofs deiire, and make no ufe or. 
 their rational faculties but to heighten their fenfual pleafure. 
 Thefe wild grovelling wretches, they faid, were the drofs of 
 their kind, and having only the fiiape of men, differed from 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MORAL VIRTUE. 1 5 
 
 brutes in nothing but their owt ward figure. But the other 
 clafs was made up of lofty high-fpirited creatures, that, free 
 from fordid felfiihnefs, eiieemed the improvements of the 
 mind to be their fairei! pofieflions ; and, fetting a true value 
 upon themfelves, took no delight but in enibellifhing that 
 part in which their excellency coniifxed ; fuch as deipiiing 
 whatever they had in common with irrational creatures, op- 
 pofed by the help of reafon their moil violent inclinations ; 
 and making a continual war with themfelves, to promote the 
 peace of others, aimed at no lefs than the public welfare, and 
 the conquerl of their own paiiion. 
 
 Fortior eft qui fe quam qui fortiiiima Vincit 
 IMoenia— — __ 
 
 Thefe they called the true reprefentatives of their fublime 
 fpecies, exceeding in worth the firft clafs by more degrees, 
 than that itfelf was fuperior to the beads of the field. 
 
 As in all animals that are not. too imperfect to difcover 
 pride, we find, that the fined, and fuch as are the molt beau- 
 riful and valuable of their kind, have generally the greater! 
 fhare of it ; fo in man, the moi! perfect of animals, it is fo in- 
 feparable from his very effence (how cunningly foever fome 
 may learn to hide or difguife it), that without it the com- 
 pound he is made of would want one of the chiefs it ingre- 
 dients : which, if we confider, it is hardly to be doubted but 
 leffons and remonftrances, fo ikilfully adapted to the good 
 opinion man has of himielf, as thofe 1 have mentioned, muft, 
 • if fcattered amongft a multitude, not only gain the aifent of 
 mor! of them, as to the fpeculative part, but like wife induce 
 leveral, efpecially the fiercer!, moi! refolute, and bei! among 
 them, to endure a thoufand inconveniences, and undergo as 
 many hardships, that they may have the pleafuie of counting 
 themielves men of the fecond clafs, and confequently appro- 
 priating to themfelves all the excellencies they have heard 
 of it. 
 
 From what has been laid, we ought to expect, in the firft 
 place, that the heroes who took fuch extraordinary pains to 
 mailer fome of their natural appetites, and preferred the 
 good of others to any viiible interei! of their own, would not 
 recede an inch from the fine notions they had received con- 
 cerning the dignity of rational creatures ; and having ever 
 the authority of the govefment on their fide, with all ima- 
 ginable vigour aileri: the eiteem that was due to thcie ol the 
 
1 6 AN INQUIRY INTO 
 
 fecond clafs, as well as their fuperiority over the reft of their 
 kind. In the fecond, that thofe who wanted a fufficient 
 flock of either pride or refolution, to buoy them up in morti- 
 fying of what was deareft to them, followed the fenfual dic- 
 tates of nature, would yet be afhamed of conferring them- 
 felves to be thofe defpicable wretches that belonged to the 
 inferior clafs, and were generally reckoned to be fo little re- 
 moved from brutes ; and that therefore, in their own defence, 
 they would fay, as others did, and hiding their own imper- 
 fections as well as they could, cry up felf-denial and public 
 fpiritednefs as much as any : for it is highly probable, that 
 fome of them, convinced by the real proofs of fortitude and 
 felf-conqueft they had feen, would admire in others what they 
 found wanting in themfelves ; others be afraid of the refolu- 
 tion and prowefs of thofe of the fecond clafs, and that all of 
 them were kept in awe by the power of their rulers ; where- 
 fore is it reafonable to think, that none of them (whatever 
 they thought in themfelves) would dare openly contradict, 
 what by every body elfe was thought criminal to doubt of. 
 
 This was ( or at lead might have been) the manner after 
 which favage man was broke ; from whence it is evident, 
 that the firft rudiments of morality, broached by fkilful poli- 
 ticians, to render men ufeful to each other, as w 7 ell as tradable, 
 were chiefly contrived, that the ambitious might reap the 
 more benefit from, and govern vaft numbers of them with 
 the greater eafe and fecurity. This foundation of politics 
 being once laid, it is impoflible that man fhould long remain 
 uncivilized : for even thofe who only ft rove to gratify their 
 appetites, being continually crofted by others of the fame 
 ftamp, could not but obferve, that whenever they checked 
 their inclinations or but followed them with more circum- 
 fpeclion, they avoided a world of troubles, and often efcaped 
 many of the calamities that generally attended the too eager 
 purfuit after pleafure. 
 
 Firft, they received, as well as others, the benefit of thofe 
 actions that were done for the good of the w 7 hole fociety, and 
 confequently could not forbear wifhing well to thofe of the 
 fuperior clafs that performed them. Secondly, the more in- 
 tent they were in feeking their own advantage, without re- 
 gard to others, the more they were hourly convinced, that 
 none flood fo much in their way as thofe that were moll like 
 themfelves. 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MORAL VIRTUE. 1/ 
 
 It being the intereft then of the very word of them,- more 
 than any, to preach up public-ipiritednefs, that they might 
 reap the fruits of the labour and felf-denial of others, and at 
 the fame time indulge their own appetites with lefs dif- 
 turbance, they agreed with the reft, to call every thing, 
 which, without regard to the public, man mould commit to 
 gratify any of his appetites, vice; if in that action there 
 could be obferved the lead profpecl:, that it might either be 
 injurious to any of the fociety, or ever render himfelflefs 
 ferviceable to others : and to give the name of virtue to 
 every performance, by which man, contrary to the impulfe 
 of nature, mould endeavour the benefit of others, or the con- 
 quer! of his own paffions, out of a rational ambition of being 
 good. 
 
 It fhall be objecled, that no fociety was ever any ways ci- 
 vilized before the major part had agreed upon fome worfhip 
 or other of an over-ruling power, and coniequently that the 
 notions of good and evil, and the diftmclion between virtue 
 and vice, were never the contrivance of politicians, but the 
 pure effect, of religion. Before I anfwer this objection, I 
 muft repeat what I have faid already, that in this inquiry in- 
 to 'the origin of moral virtue, I fpeak neither of Jews or 
 Chriftians, but man in his ftate of nature and ignorance ol 
 the true Deity ; and then I affirm, that the idolatrous fuper- 
 ftitions of all other nations, and the pitiful notions they had 
 of the Supreme Being, were incapable of exciting man to vir- 
 tue, and good for nothing but to awe and amufe a rude and 
 unthinking multitude. It is evident from hiftory, that in all 
 confiderable focieties, how ftupid or ridiculous merer peo- 
 ple's received notions have been, as to the deities they 
 worfhipped, human nature has ever exerted itfelf in all its 
 branches, and that there is no earthly wifdom or moral vir- 
 tue, but at one time or other men have excelled in it in all 
 monarchies and commonwealths, that for riches and power 
 have been any ways remarkable. 
 
 The Egyptians, not fatisfied with having deified all the 
 ugly monfters they could think on, were fo filly as to adore 
 the onions of their own fowing ; yet at the fame time their 
 country was the moft famous nurfery of arts and fciences in 
 the world, and themfelves more eminently (killed in the 
 deeperl myfteries of nature than any nation has been ilnce. 
 
 No ftates or kingdoms under heaven have yielded more 
 or greater patterns in all forts of moral virtues, than the Greek 
 
 G 
 
2 8 AN INQUIRY INTO 
 
 and Roman empires, more efpecially the latter ; and yet how 
 looie, abfurd and ridiculous were their fentiments as to fa- 
 cred matters? For without reflecting on the extravagant 
 number of their deities, if we only confider the infamous {lo- 
 ries they fathered upon them, it is not to be denied but that 
 their religion, far from teaching men the conquefl of their 
 paflions, and the way to virtue, feemed rather contrived to 
 juftify their appetites, and encourage their vices. But if we 
 would know what made them excel in fortitude, courage, and 
 magnanimity, we mult call our eyes on the pomp of their 
 triumphs, the magnificence of their monuments and arches ; 
 their trophies, flatues, and infcriptions ; the variety of their 
 military crowns, their honours decreed to the dead, public 
 encomiums on the living, and other imaginary rewards they 
 bellowed on men of merit ; and we iliail find, that what car- 
 ried To many of them to the utmoft pitch of felf -denial, was 
 nothing but their policy in making ufe of the moil effectual 
 means that human pride could be flattered with. 
 
 It is vifible, then, that it was not any heathen religion, or 
 other idolatrous fuperllition, that firll put man upon eroding 
 his appetites and fubduing his dearefl inclinations, but the 
 fkilful management of wary politicians ; and the nearer we 
 fearch into human nature, the more we mall be convinced, 
 that the moral virtues are the political offspring which flat- 
 tery begot upon pride. 
 
 There is no man, of what capacity or penetration foever, 
 that is wholly proof againll the witchcraft of flattery, if art- 
 fully performed, and fuited to his abilities. Children and 
 fools will fwallow perfonal praife, but thofe that are more 
 cunning, muft be managed with much greater circumfpec- 
 tion ; and the more general the flattery is, the lefs it is fuf- 
 pecled by thofe it is levelled at. What you fay in commen- 
 dation of a whole town is received with pleafure by all the in- 
 habitants : fpeak in commendation of letters in general, and 
 every man of learning will think himfelf in particular obliged 
 to you. You may fafely praife the employment a man is 
 of, or the country he was born in ; becaufe you give him an 
 opportunity of Icreening the joy he feels upon his own ac- 
 count, under the eileem which he pretends to have for 
 others. 
 
 It is common among cunning men, that underftand the 
 power which liar; ipon pride, when they are afraid 
 
 they iliail be impofed upon, to emarge, though much againll 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MORAL VIRTUE. *9 
 
 their confcience, upon the honour, fair dealing, and integrity 
 of the family, country, or fometimes the profefrion of him 
 they fufped ; becaufe they know that men often will change 
 their refolution, and act againfl their inclination, that they 
 may have the pleafure of continuing to appear in the opinion 
 of fome, what they are confcious not to be iri reality. Thus 
 fagacious moraliif s draw men like angels, in hopes that the 
 pride at leaft of fome will put them upon copying after the 
 beautiful originals which they are reprefented to be. 
 
 When the incomparable Sir Richard Steele, m the ufual 
 elegance of his eafy ftyle, dwells on the praifes of his fublime 
 fpecies, and with all the embellifhments of rhetoric, fets forth 
 the excellency of human nature, it is impoffihle not to be 
 charmed with his happy turns of thought, and the politenefs 
 of his expremons. But though I have been often moved by 
 the force of his eloquence, and ready to f wallow the inge- 
 nious fophiftry with pleafure, yet 1 could, never be fo ferious, 
 but, reflecting on his artful encomiums, I thought on the tricks 
 made ufe of by the women that would teach children to be 
 mannerly. When an awkward girl before fhe can either 
 fpeak or go, begins after many entreaties to make the firrl 
 rude eifays of curtefying, the nurfe falls in an ecilacy of 
 praife ; " There is a delicate curteiy ! O fine Mifs ! there is a 
 " pretty lady ! Mamma ! Mifs can make a better curtfey than 
 " her lifter Molly !" The fame is echoed over by the maids, 
 whilflMamma almoft hugs the child to pieces ; only Mifs Mol- 
 ly, who being four years older, knows how to make a very 
 handfome curtefy, wonders at the perverfenefs or their judg- 
 ment, and fwelling with indignation, is ready to cry at the in- 
 jullice that is done her, till, being whifpered in the ear that it 
 is only to pleafe the baby, and that {lie is a woman, ihe grows 
 proud at being let into the fecret, and rejoicing at the fupe- 
 riority of her underftanding, repeats what has been faid with 
 large additions, and infults over the weaknefs of her niter, 
 whom all this while fhe fancies to be the only bubble among 
 them. Thefe extravagant praifes would by any one, above 
 the capacity of an infant, be called fulfome flatteries, and, if 
 you will, abominable lies • yet experience teaches us, that by 
 the help of fuch grofs encomiums, young miffes will be 
 brought to make pretty curtelies, and behave triemfelves 
 womanly much fooner, and with leis trouble, than they 
 would without them. It is the fame with boys, whom they 
 will flrive to perfuade, that all fine eentlemen do as they are 
 C 2 
 
20 AN INQUIRY INTO 
 
 bid, and that none but beggar boys aje rude, or dirty their 
 their clothes ; nay, as foon as the wild brat with his untaught 
 fift begins to fumble for his hat, the mother, to make him 
 pull it off, tells him before he is two years old, that he is a 
 man; and if he repeats that action when fhe deiires him, 
 he is prefently a captain, a lord mayor, a king, or fomething 
 higher if fhe can think of it, till edged on by the force of 
 praife, the little urchin endeavours to imitate man as well as 
 he can, and ft rains all his faculties to appear what his mal- 
 low noddle imagines he is believed to be. 
 
 The meaner! wretch puts an ineftimable value upon him- 
 felf, and the higheft wifn of the ambitious man is to have all 
 the world, as to that particular, of his opinion : fo that the 
 moft infatiable thiril after fame that ever heroe was infpired 
 with, was never more than an ungovernable greedinefs to en- 
 grofs the eiieem and admiration of others in future ages as 
 w r ell as his own ; and (what mortification lbever this truth 
 might be to the fecond thoughts of an Alexander or a Caeiar ) 
 the great recompense in view, for which the moft exalted 
 minds have with fo much alacrity facririced their quiet, 
 health, fenfual pleafuies, and every inch of themfelves, has 
 never been any thing elfe but the breath of man, the aerial 
 coin of praife. Who can forbear laughing when he thinks 
 on all the great men that have been fo ferious on the fubject 
 of that Macedonian madman, his capacious foul, that migh- 
 ty heart, in one corner of which, according to Lorenzo Gra- 
 tian, the world was fo commodiouily lodged, that in the 
 whole there was room for fix more ? Who can forbear laugh- 
 ing, 1 fay, when he compares the fine things that have been 
 faid of Alexander, with the end he propoied to himfelf from 
 his vaft exploits, to be proved from his own mouth ; when 
 the vaft pains he took to pais the Hydafpes forced him to 
 cry out ? Oh ye Athenians, could you believe what dangers 
 I expole myfelf to, to be praifed by you I To define then, the 
 reward of glory in the ampleil manner, the moft that can be 
 laid of it, is, that it contiils in a iuperlative felicity which a 
 man, who is conicious of having performed a noble action, 
 enjoys in felf-love, whilft he is thinking on the applaufe he 
 expects of others. 
 
 Rut here I fliall be told, that befides the noify toils of war 
 and public buftle of the ambitious, there are noble and ge- 
 nerous actions that are performed in filence ; that virtue be- 
 ing its own reward, thole who are really good have a iatisrac- 
 
THE ORIGIN OF MORAL VIRTUE. 21 
 
 tion in their confcioufhefs of being fo, which is all the recom- 
 pence they expect from the moft worthy performances ; that 
 among the heathens there have been men, who, when they 
 did good to others, were fo far from coveting thanks and ap- 
 plaufe, that they took all imaginable care to be for ever con- 
 cealed from thofe on whom they bellowed their benefits, 
 and confequently that pride has no hand in fpurring man on 
 to the higheft pitch of felf-denial. 
 
 In anfwer to this, I fay, that it is impoffible to judge of a 
 man's performance, unlefs we are thoroughly acquainted with 
 the principle and motive from which he acts. Pity, though 
 it is the moil gentle and the leafl mifchievous of all our paf- 
 iions, is yet as much a frailty of our nature, as anger, pride, 
 or fear. The weaker! minds have generally the greater! fhare 
 of it, for which reafon none are more companionate than 
 women and children. Jt muit be owned, that of all our 
 weakneffes, it is the mod amiable, and bears the greateil re- 
 femblance to virtue ; nay, without a confiderable mixture of 
 it, the fociety could hardly fubfiil : but as it is an impulfe of 
 nature, that confults neither the public interefl nor our own 
 reafon, it may produce evil as well as Qood. It has helped 
 to deflroy the honour of virgins, and corrupted the integrity 
 of judges i and whoever acts from it as a principle, what good 
 foever he may bring to the fociety, has nothing to boatl of, 
 but that he has indulged a pailion that has happened to be 
 beneficial to the public. There is no merit in laving an in- 
 nocent babe ready to drop into the fire : the action is neither 
 good nor bad, and what benefit foever the infant received, 
 we only obliged ourfelves ; for to have feen it fall, and not 
 flrove to hinder it, would have caufed a pain, which feif-pre- 
 fervation compelled us to prevent : Nor has a rich prodigal, 
 that happens to be of a commife rating temper, and loves to 
 gratify his. paffions, greater virtue to boaft of, when he re- 
 lieves an object of compaffion with what to himfelf is a trifle. 
 
 But fuch men, as without complying with any weaknefs of 
 their own, can part from what they value themfelves, and, 
 from no other motive but there love to goodnefs, perform a 
 worthy action in lilence : fuch men, I confefs, have acquired 
 more refined notions of virtue than thofe I have hitherto 
 fpoke of; yet even in thefe (with which the world has yet 
 never fwarmed) we may difcover nofmallfymptoms of pride, 
 and the humbled man alive muft confefs, that the reward of 
 a virtuous action, which is the fatisfaction that enfues upon it, 
 
 c 3 
 
22 AN INQUIRY INTO, &C. 
 
 confifts in a certain pleafure he procures to himfelf by con- 
 templating on his own worth : which pleafure, together with 
 the occaiion of it, are as certain figns of pride, as looking pale 
 and trembling at any imminent danger, are the fymptoms of 
 fear. 
 
 If the two fcrupulous reader mould at firft view condemn 
 thefe notions concerning the origin of moral virtue, and think 
 them perhaps offenfive to Chriltianitv, I hope he will forbear 
 his ceniures, when he fhall confider, that nothing can render 
 the unfearchable depth of the Divine Wifdom more confpi- 
 cuous, than that man, whom Providence had defigned for ib- 
 ciety, mould not only by his own frailties and imperfections, 
 be led into the road to temporal happinefs, but hkewife re- 
 ceive, from a feeming necellity of natural caufes, a tincture 
 of that knowledge, in which he was afterwards to be made 
 perfect by the true religion, to his eternal welfare. 
 
REMARKS. 
 
 Line 45. Whilft others follow'd myfteries, 
 
 To which few folks bind 'prentices. 
 
 In the education of youth, in order to their getting of a live- 
 lihood when they fhall be arrived at maturity, mo ft people 
 look out for fome warrantable employment or other, of 
 which there are whole bodies or companies, in every large 
 fociety of men. By this means, all arts and fciences, as well 
 as trades and handicrafts, are perpetuated in the common- 
 wealth, as long as they are found ufeful ; the young ones 
 that are daily brought up to them, continually fupplying the 
 lofsoftheold ones that die. But fome of there employ- 
 ments being vaftly more creditable than others, according 
 to the great difference of the charges required to fet up in 
 each of them, all prudent parents, in the choice of them, 
 chiefly confult their own abilities, and the circumftances they 
 are in. A man that gives three or four hundred pounds with 
 his fon to a great merchant, and has not two or three thou- 
 fand pounds to fpare againft he is out of his time to begin 
 bullnefs with, i c much to blame not to have brought his 
 child up to fomething that might be followed with lefs money. 
 
 There are abundance of men of a genteel education, that 
 have but very fmall revenues, and yet are forced, by their 
 reputable callings, to make a greater figure than ordinary 
 people of twice their income. If thefe have any children, 
 it often happens, that as their indigence renders them inca- 
 pable of bringing them up to creditable occupations, fo their 
 pride makes them unwilling to put them out to any of the 
 mean laborious trades, and then, in hopes either of an altera- 
 tion in their fortune, or that fome friends, or favourable oppor- 
 tunity fhall offer, they from time to time put off the difpof- 
 ing of them, until infenlibly they come to be of age, and 
 are at lalt brought up to nothing. Whether this neglect 
 be more barbarous to the children, or prejudicial to the fo- 
 ciety, I fhall not determine. At Athens all children were 
 forced to affift their parents, if .they came to want : But So- 
 lon made a law, that no fon fhould be obliged to relieve his 
 father, who had not bred him up to any calling. 
 
 Some parents put out their ions to good trades verv fuit- 
 C 4 
 
24 REMARKS. 
 
 able to their then prefent abilities, but happen to die, or fail 
 in the world, before their children have finiihed their ap- 
 prenticefhips, or are made fit for the bulinefs they are to 
 follow : A great many young men again, on the other hand, 
 are Jiandfomely provided for and fet up for themfelves, that 
 yet (fome for want of induftry, or elfe a fufficient knowledge 
 in their callings, others by indulging their pleafures, and 
 fome few by misfortunes) are reduced to poverty, and alto- 
 gether unable to maintain themfelves by the bulinefs they 
 were brought up to It is impoflible but that the neglects, 
 mifmanagements, and misfortunes I named, muft very fre- 
 quently happen m populous places, and confequently great 
 numbers of people be daily flung unprovided for into the 
 wide world, how rich and potent a commonwealth may be, 
 or what care foever a government may take to hinder it. 
 How muft thele people be difpofed of? The fea, 1 know, 
 and armies, which the world is feldom without, will take off 
 fome. Thole that are honeft drudges, and of a laborious 
 temper, will become journeymen to the trades they are of, 
 or enter into fome other fervice : fuch of them as fludied 
 and were feat to the univeriity, may become fchoolmailers, 
 tutors, and fome few of them get into fome office or other : 
 But what muft become of the lazy, that care for no manner 
 of working, and the fickle, that hate to be confined to any 
 thing ? 
 
 Thofe that ever took delight in plays and romances, and 
 have a fpice of gentility, will, in all probability, throw their 
 eyes upon the flage, and if they have a good elocution, with 
 tolerable mien, turn actors. Some that love their bellies 
 above any thing elfe, if they have a good palate, and a 
 little knack at cookery, will llrive to get in with gluttons 
 and epicures, learn to cringe and bear all manner of ufage, 
 and fo turn paraiites, ever flattering the mailer, and making 
 mifchief among the reft of the family. Others, who by their 
 own and companions lewdnefs, judge of people's inconti- 
 nence, will naturally fall to intriguing, and endeavour to live 
 by pimping for fuch as either want leifure or addrefs to fpeak 
 for themfelves. Thofe of the moft abandoned principles of 
 all, if they are fly and dexterous, turn fharpers, pick-pockets, 
 or coiners, if their ikill and ingenuity give them leave. 
 Others again, that have obferved the credulity of fimple wo- 
 men, and other foolifh people, if they have impudence ancj 
 a little cunning, either let up for doctors, or elfe pretend to 
 
LINE 45 & 55. 25 
 
 tell fortunes ; and every one turning the vices and frailties 
 of others to his own advantage, endeavours to pick up a 
 living the eafieft and fhortert way his talents and aoilities 
 will let him. 
 
 Thefe are certainly the bane of civil fociety ; but they 
 are fools, who, not confidering what has been faid, ftorm 
 at the remifTnefs of the laws that fuffer them to live, while 
 wife men content themfelves with taking all imaginable care 
 not to be circumvented by them, without quarrelling at what 
 no human prudence can prevent. 
 
 Line 55. Thefe we call'd Knaves, but bar the name, 
 The grave induflrious were the fame. 
 
 1 his, I confefs, is but a very indifferent compliment to all 
 the trading part of the people. But if the word Knave may 
 be understood in its full latitude, and comprehend every 
 body that is not lincerely honeit, and does to others what he 
 would diilike to have done to himfelf, I do not queftion but 
 I fhall make good the charge. To pafs by the innumerable 
 artifices, by which buyers and fellers outwit one another, 
 that are daily allowed of and practifed among the fairer! of 
 dealers, fhow me the tradefmen that has always difcovered 
 the defecls of his goods to thofe that cheapened them; nay, 
 where will you find one that has not at one time or other in- 
 duftriouily concealed them, to the detriment of the buyer? 
 Where is the merchant that has never, againft his confcience, 
 extolled his wares beyond their worth, to make them go off 
 the better. 
 
 Decio, a man of great figure, that had large commiffions 
 for fugar from feveral parts beyond fea, treats about a con- 
 fiderable parcel of that commodity with Alcander, an emi- 
 nent Weil India merchant; both underllood the market 
 very well, but could not agree : Decio was a man of fub- 
 ftance, and thought no body ought to buy cheaper than 
 himfelf; Alcander was the fame, and not wanting money, 
 ftood for his price. While they were driving their bargain 
 at a tavern near the exchange, Aicander's man brought his 
 mafter a letter from the Weft Indies, that informed him of a 
 much greater quantity of fugars coming for England than 
 was expected. Alcander now warned for nothing more than 
 to fell at Becio's price, before the news was public ; but be- 
 ing a cunning fox, that he might not feem too precipitant, 
 
£ 6 REMARKS. 
 
 nor yet lofe his cuflomer, he drops the difcourfe they were 
 upon, and putting on a jovial humour, commends the agree- 
 ahlenefs of the weather, from whence falling upon the de- 
 light he took in his gardens, invites Decio to go along with 
 hirn to his country houfe, that was not above twelve miles 
 from London. It was in the month of May, and, as it hap- 
 pened, upon a Saturday in the afternoon : Decio, who was 
 a tingle man. and would have no buiinefs in town before 
 Tuefday, accepts of the other's civility, and away they go in 
 Alcander's coach. Decio was fplendidly entertained that 
 night and the day following; the Monday morning, to get 
 himfelf an appetite, he goes to take the air upon a pad of 
 Alcander's, and coming back meets with a gentleman of his 
 acquaintance, who tells him news was come the night be- 
 fore that the Barbadoes fleet was deilroyed by a florm, and 
 adds, that before he came out it had been confirmed at 
 Lloyd's coffee houfe, where it was thought fugars would rife 
 25 per cent, by change-time. Decio returns to his friend, 
 and immediately renames the difcourfe they had broke off at 
 the tavern : Alcander, who thinking himfelf lure of his 
 chap, did not defign to have moved it till after dinner, was 
 very glad to fee himfelf fo happily prevented ; but how defi- 
 rous foever he was to fell, the other was yet more eager to 
 buy ; yet both of them afraid of one another, for a conlider- 
 able time counterfeited all the indifference imaginable ; un- 
 til at laft, Decio fired with what he had heard, thought de- 
 lays might prove dangerous, and throwing a guinea upon the 
 table, ilruck the bargain at iUcander's price. The next day 
 they went to London ; the news proved true, and Decio got 
 five hundred pounds by his fugars, Alcander, whilft he had 
 ftrove to over-reach the other, was paid in his own coin : yet 
 all this is called fair dealing ; but 1 am fure neither of them 
 would have defired to be dene by, as they did to each other. 
 
 Line ici. The foldiers that were fore'dto fight, 
 If they furviv'd got honour by't. 
 
 bo unaccountable is the dehTe to be thought well of in men, 
 that though they are dragged into the war againft their will, 
 and fome of them for their crimes, and are compelled to fight 
 with threats, and often blows, yet they would be elf eemed 
 for what they would have avoided, if it had been in their 
 
line ior. 27 
 
 1 power : whereas, if reafon in man was of equal weight with 
 ,' his pride, he could never be pleafed with praifes, which he is 
 ! confcious he does not defer ve. 
 
 By honour, in its proper and genuine fignification, we 
 mean nothing elfe but the good opinion of others, which is 
 counted more or lefs fubftantial, the more or lefs noife or 
 buttle there is made about the demonfcration of it; and when 
 we fay the fovereign is the fountain of honour, it fig- 
 nifies that he has the power, by titles or ceremonies, or 
 both together, to (lamp a mark upon whom he pleafes, that 
 fhall be as current as his coin, and procure the owner 
 the good opinion of every body, whether he deferves it or 
 not. 
 
 The reverfe of honour is difhonour, or ignominy, which 
 confifts in the bad opinion and contempt of others ; and as 
 the firit is counted a reward for good actions, fo this is 
 eiteemed a punifhment for bad ones ; and the more or lefs 
 public or heinous the manner is in which this contempt of 
 others is fliown, the more or lefs the perfon fo fufFering is 
 degraded by it. This ignominy is likewife called fhame, 
 from the effect it produces ; for though the good and evil 
 of honour and difhonour are imaginary, yet there is a reality 
 in fhame, as it fignifies a paffion, that has its proper fymp- 
 toms, over- rules our reafon, and requires as much labour and 
 ielf- denial to be fubdued, as any of the reft ; and fince 
 the molt important actions of life often are regulated accord- 
 ing to the influence this paffion has upon us, a thorough un- 
 derftanding of it mult help to illuftrate the notions the world 
 has of honour and ignominy. I fhall therefore defcribe it at 
 large. 
 
 Firlt, to define the paffion of fhame, I think it may be 
 called a forrowful reflection on our own iinworthinefs, pro- 
 ceeding from an apprehenlion that others either do, or might, 
 if they knew all, deservedly defpife us. The only objection 
 of weight that can be raifed againft this definition is, that in- 
 nocent virgins are often afhamed, and bluih when they are 
 guilty of no crime, and can give no manner of reafon for this 
 trailty : and that men are oiten afhamed for others, for, or 
 with whom, they have neither friendfhip or affinity, and con- 
 fequently that there may be a thoufand initances of fhame 
 given, to which the words of the definition are not applicable. 
 To aniwer this, I would have it firit confidered, that the mo- 
 deity of women is the reiult of cuitom and education, by 
 
2§ . remarks. 
 
 which all unfafhionable denudations and filthy expreffions 
 are rendered frightful and abominable to them, and that not- 
 withstanding this, the mod virtuous young woman alive will 
 often, in fpite of her teeth, have thoughts and confufed ideas 
 of things arife in her imagination, which fhe would not reveal 
 to fome people for a thoufand worlds. Then, I fay, that 
 when obfcene words are fpoken in the prefence of an unex- 
 perienced virgin, fhe is afraid that fome body will reckon her 
 to underftand what they mean, and confequently that me un- 
 derltands this, and that, and feveral things, which fhe defires 
 to be thought ignorant of. The reflecting on this, and that 
 thoughts are forming to her difadvantage, brings upon her 
 that paflion which we call fhame ; and whatever can fling 
 her, though never fo remote from lewdnefs, upon that fet of 
 thoughts 1 hinted, and which fhe thmks criminal, will have 
 the fame effect, efpecially before men, as long as her modefty 
 lafts. 
 
 To try the truth of this, let them talk as much bawdy as 
 they pleafe in the room next to the fame virtuous young wo- 
 man, where fhe is fure that fhe is undifcovered, and fhe will 
 hear, if not hearken to it, without bluflnng at all, becaufe 
 then flie looks upon herfelf as no party concerned ; and if 
 the difcourfe fliould ftain her cheeks with red, whatever her 
 innocence may imagine, it is certain that what occalions her 
 colour, is a pailion not half fo mortifying as that of lhame; 
 but if, in the fame place, fhe hears fomething faid of herfelf 
 that mult tend to her difgrace, or any thing is named, of 
 which fhe is fecretly guilty, then it is ten to one but fhe will 
 be aihamed andblufh, though nobody fees her; becaufe fhe 
 has room to fear, that fhe is, or, if all was known, fliould 
 be thought of contemptibly t 
 
 That we are often afhamed, and blufh for others, which 
 was the fecond part of the objection, is nothing gKg but that 
 fometimes w T e make the cafe of others too nearly our own ; 
 fo people ffiriek out when they fee others in danger : Whilit 
 we are reflecting with too much earned on the effect which 
 fuch a blameable action, if it was ours, would produce in us, 
 the fpirits, and confequently the blood, are infeniibly moved, 
 after the fame manner as if the action was our own, and fo 
 the fame fymptoms mult appear. 
 
 The fhame that raw, ignorant, and ill-bred people, though 
 feemingly without a caufe, difcover before their betters, is al- 
 ways acompamed with, and proceeds from a confcioufnefs 
 
line ior. 29 
 
 of their weaknefs and inabilities ; and the mofi modeft man, 
 how virtuous, knowing, and accomplished focver he might 
 be, was never yet afhamed without lome guilt or diffide 
 Such as out of rufticity, and want of education are unrea- 
 ionably fubjecl to, and at every turn overcome by this pafuon, 
 w r e call bafhful ; and thofe who out of difrdpecr to others, 
 and a falfe opinion of their own fufhciencv, have learned not 
 to be affected with it, when they mould be, are called impu- 
 dent or fhamelefs. What itrange contradictions man is niade 
 of! The reverfe of Ihame is pride, (fee Remark on 1. .182) 
 yet no body can be touched with the firft, that never felt 
 any thing of the latter ; for that w 7 e have fuch an extraordi- 
 nary concern in what others think of us, can proceed from 
 nothing but the vail efteem we have of ourfelves. 
 
 That theie two paffions, in which the feeds of moil virtues 
 are contained, are realities in our frame, and not imaginary 
 qualities, is demonftrable from the plain and different effects, 
 that, in fpite of "our reafon, are produced in us as fouii as we 
 are affected with either. 
 
 When a man is overwhelmed with fhame, he obferves a 
 finking of the fpirits ! the heart feels cold and condenfed, and 
 the blood flies from it to the circumference of the body ; the 
 face glows, the neck and part of the breaft par lake of the 
 fire : he is heavy as lead ; the head is hung down, and the 
 eyes through a milt of confuiion are fixed on the ground: 
 no injuries can move him ; he is weary of his being, and 
 heartily wifhes he could make himfelf invifible : but when, 
 gratifying his vanity, he exults in his pride, he difcovers quite 
 contrary fymptoms ; his fpirits fwell and fan the art 
 blood ; a more than ordinary warmth ftrengthens and dilates 
 the heart ; the extremities are cool ; he feels light to himfelf, 
 and imagines he could tread on air ; his head is held up, his 
 eyes rolled about with fprightlinefs ; he rejoices at his being, 
 is prone to anger, and would be glad that all the world could 
 take notice of him. 
 
 It is incredible how neceffary an ingredient fhame is to 
 make us fociabie ; it is a frailty in our nature ; all the world, 
 whenever it affects them, fubmit to it with regret, and would 
 prevent it if they could ; yet the happinefs of converiation 
 depends upon it, and no fociety could be polihhed, if the 
 generality of mankind were not fubjecl to i:. As, therefore, 
 the lenle of fhame is troublefome, and all creatures are ever 
 labouring for their own defence, it is probable, that man 
 
30 REMARKS. 
 
 ftriving to avoid this uneafinefs, would, in a great meafureV 
 conquer his fhame by that he was grown up ; but this would 
 be detrimental to the fociety, and therefore from his infancy, 
 throughout his education, we endeavour to increafe, inftead 
 of lefTening or deflroying this fenfe of fhame ; and the only 
 remedy prefcribed, is a ftrict obfervance of certain rules, to 
 avoid thofe things that might bring this troublefome fenfe of 
 fhame upon him. But as to rid or care him of it, the poli- 
 tician would fooner take away his life. 
 
 The rules I fpeak of, conlift in a dextrous management of . 
 ourfelves, a ilifling of our appetites, and hiding the real fen- 
 timents of our hearts before others. Thofe who are not in- 
 ftructed in thefe rules long before they come to years of ma- 
 turity, feldom make any progrefs in them afterwards. To 
 acquire and bring to perfection the accomplifhment I hint at, 
 nothing is more aihiting than pride and good fenfe. The 
 greedinefs we have after the efteem of others, and the rap- 
 tures we enjoy in the thoughts of being liked, and perhaps 
 admired, are equivalents that over- pay the conqueft of the 
 ftrongelt paflions, and confequently keep us at a great dif- 
 tance from all fuch words or actions that can bring fhame 
 upon us. The paflions we chiefly ought to hide, for the hap- 
 pinefs and embeliifhment of the fociety, are lufl, pride, and 
 felfifhnefs ; therefore the word modefty has three different 
 acceptations, that vary with the paflions it conceals. 
 
 As to the firfl, I mean the branch of modefty, that has a 
 general preteniion to chaility for its object, it confifts in a 
 fincere and painful endeavour, with all our faculties, to flifle 
 and conceal before others, that inclination which nature 
 has given us to propagate our fpecies. The leflbns of it, like 
 thofe of grammar, are taught us long before we have occa- 
 iion for, or understand the ufefulnefs of them ; for this reft* 
 fon children often arc afhamed, and blufli out of modefty, 
 before the impulfe of nature I hint at makes any impreflion 
 upon them. A girl who is modeftly educated, may, before 
 fhe is two years old, begin to obferve how careful the women 
 fhe converies with, are of covering themfelves before men ; 
 and the fame caution being inculcated to her by precept, as 
 well as example, it is very probable that at fix lhe will be 
 afhamed of mowing her leg, without knowing any reafon 
 why fuch an act is blameable, or what the tendency of it is. 
 
 To be modelt, we ought, in the ririt place, to avoid all un- 
 fafhionable denudations : a woman is not to be found fault 
 
LINE 101. 3t 
 
 with for going with her neck bare, if the cuftom of the 
 j country allows of it ; and when the mode orders the flays o 
 j be cut very low, a blooming virgin may, without fear of ra- 
 i tional cenfure, mow all the world : 
 
 ! 
 
 How firm her pouting breafts, that white as fnow, 
 On th' ample cheft at mighty diftance grow. 
 
 : But to fuffer her ancle to be feen, where it is the fafhion for 
 women to hide their very feet, is a breach of modefly ; and 
 j me is impudent, who mows half her face in a country where 
 j decency bids her to be veiled. In the fecond, our language 
 : mufl be chafte, and not only free, but remote from obfceni- 
 ! ties, that is, whatever belongs to the multiplication of our 
 ! fpecies is not to be fpoke of, and the leafl word or expreffion, 
 that, though at a great diftance, has any relation to that per- 
 formance, ought never to come from our lips. Thirdly, all 
 poftures and motions that can any ways fully the imagination, 
 that is, put us in mind of what 1 have called obfcenities, are 
 to be forbore with great caution. 
 
 A young woman, moreover, that would be thought well- 
 bred, ought to be circumfpecl before men in all her beha- 
 viour, and never known to receive from, much lefs to befiow 
 favours upon them, unlefs the great age of the man, near 
 confanguinity, or a vail fuperiority on either fide, plead her 
 excufe. A young lady of refined education keeps a flricl 
 guard over her looks, as well as actions, and in her eyes we 
 may read a confcioufnefs that fhe has a treafure about her, 
 not out of danger of being loll, and which yet fhe is refolved 
 not to part with at any terms. Thoufand fatires have been 
 made againft prudes, and as many encomiums to extol the 
 carelefs graces, and negligent air of virtuous beauty. But 
 the wifer fort of mankind are well allured, that the free and 
 open countenance of the fmiling fair, is more inviting, and 
 yields greater hopes to the feducer, than the ever-watchful 
 look of a forbidding eye. 
 
 This ilrid refervednefs is to be complied with by all young 
 women, efpecially virgins, if they value the efleem of the po- 
 lite and knowing world ; men may take greater liberty, be- 
 caule in them the appetite is more violent and ungovernable. 
 Had equal harfhneis of difciplme been impofed upon both, 
 neither of them could have made the firft advances, and pro- 
 pagation mull have flood fall among all the fafmonable peo- 
 ple : which being far from the politician's aim, it was ad- 
 
3 2 REMARKS. 
 
 vifable to eafe and indulge the fex that fuffered moft by the 
 feverif^, and make the rules abate of their rigour, where the 
 r on was the ftrongeft, and the burden of a ftrict reftraint 
 v ould have been the moft intolerable. 
 
 For this reafon, the man is allowed openly to profefs the 
 veneration and great efteem he has for women, and fhow 
 greater fatisfadtion, more mirth and gaiety in their company, 
 than he is ufed to do out of it. He may not only be com- 
 plaifant and ferviceable to them on all occafions, but it is 
 reckoned his duty to protect and defend them. He may praife 
 th" good qualities they are pofTefTed of, and extol their merit 
 with as many exaggerations as his invention will let him, and 
 are confident with good fenfe. He may talk of love, he may 
 13 h and complain of the rigours of the fair, and what his 
 tongue mult not utter he has the privilege to fpeak with his 
 ;, and in that language to fay what he pleafes ; lb it be 
 done with decency, and fliort abrupted glances : but too 
 clofely to purfue a woman, and fallen upon her with ones 
 eyes, is counted very unmannerly ; the reafon is plain, it 
 makes her uneafy, and, if (lie be not fufhciently fortified by 
 ad diflimulation, often throws her into vifible diforders. 
 As the eyes are the windows of the foul, fothis flaring impu- 
 dence flings a raw, unexperienced woman, into panic fears, 
 that fae may be feen through; and that the man will diico- 
 or has already betrayed, what pallet within her : it keeps 
 her on a perpetual rack, that commands her to reveal her fe- 
 c etwifhes, and feems deligned to extort from her the grand 
 truth, which modeily bids her with all her faculties to deny. 
 
 The multitude will hardly believe the exceflive force of 
 education, and in the difference of modefty between men and 
 women, afcribe that to nature which is altogether owing to 
 early inflruction : Mil's is fcarce three years old, but flie is 
 fpoke to every day to hide her leg, and rebuked in good ear- 
 ned if fhe iliows it ; while little Mailer at the fame age v is bid 
 to take up his coats, and pifs like a man. It is ihame and 
 education that contains the feeds of all politenefs, and he 
 that has neither, and offers to fpeak the truth of his heart, 
 and what he feels within, is the moft contemptible creature 
 upon earth, though he committed no other fault. If a man 
 fhould tell a woman, that he could like no body fo well to 
 propagate his fpecies upon, as herfelf, and that he found a 
 violent delire that moment to go about it, and accordingly 
 offered to lay hold of her for that purpofe ; the confecmence 
 
LINE IOIo 33 
 
 would be, that he would be called a brute, the woman would 
 run away, and himfelf be never admitted in any civil com- 
 pany. There is no body that has any fenfe of fliame, but 
 would conquer the ftrongeft paflion rather than be fo ferved. 
 But a man need not conquer his pailions, it is fufficient that 
 he conceals them. Virtue bids us fubdue, but good breed- 
 ing only requires we mould hide our appetites. A failiion- 
 able gentleman may have as violent an inclination to a wo- 
 man as the brutifh fellow ; but then he behaves himfelf quite 
 otherwife ; he firft addrefTes the lady's father, and demon- 
 ftrates his ability fplendidly to maintain his daughter ; upon 
 this he is admitted into her company, where, by flattery, fub- 
 mitlion, prefents, and affiduity, he endeavours to procure her 
 liking to his perfon, which if he can compafs, the lady in a 
 little while refigns herfelf to him before witneiTes in a molt 
 folemn manner ; at night they go to bed together, where the 
 moll referved virgin very tamely furTers him to do what he 
 pleafes, and the upfhot is, that he obtains what he wanted 
 without ever having a&ed for it. 
 
 The next day they receive vifits, and no body laughs at 
 them, or fpeaks a word of what they have been doing. As 
 to the young couple themfelves, they take no more notice of 
 one another, I fpeak of well-bred people, than they did the day 
 before ; they eat and drink, divert themfelves as ufually, and 
 having done nothing to be afhamed of, are looked upon as, 
 what in reality they may be, the mod model! people upon 
 earth. What I mean by this, is to demonftrate, that by be- 
 ing well-bred, we fuffer no abridgement in our fenfual plea- 
 fures,' but only labour for our mutual happinefs, and afimV 
 each other in the luxurious enjoyment of all worldly com- 
 forts. The fine gentleman I fpoke of need not praclife any- 
 greater felf-denial than the favage, and the latter acled more 
 according to the laws of nature and fincerity than the firft. 
 The man that gratifies his appetites after the manner the 
 cuftom of the country allows of, has no cenfure to fear. If 
 he is hotter than goats or bulls, as foon as the ceremony is 
 over, let him fate and fatigue himfelf with joy and ecftacies 
 of pleafure, raife an4 indulge his appetites by turns, as ex- 
 travagantly as his ltrength and manhood will give him leave, 
 he may with fafety laugh at the wife men that mould re- 
 prove him : all the women, and above nine in ten of the men 
 are of his fide ; nay, he has the liberty of valuing himfelf up- 
 on the fury of his unbridled paflion, and the more he wat* 
 
 D 
 
34 REMARKS. 
 
 lows in luft, and drains every faculty to be abandonedly vo- 
 luptuous, the fooner he iliall have the good- will and gain the 
 affection of the women, not the young, vain, and lafcivious 
 only, but the prudent, grave, and moll fober matrons. 
 
 Becaufe impudence is a vice, it does not follow that mo- 
 defly is a virtue ; it is built upon fhame, a paffion in our na- 
 ture, and may be either good or bad according to the actions 
 performed from that motive. Shame may hinder a profli- 
 tute from yielding to a man before company, and the fame 
 fhame may caufe a bafhful good-natured creature, that has 
 been overcome by frailty, to make away with her infant. 
 Pafiions may do good by chance, but there can be no merit 
 but in the conqueft of them. 
 
 Was there virtue in modety, it would be of the fame force 
 in the dark as it is in the light, which it is not. This the 
 men of pleafure know very well, who never trouble their 
 heads with a woman's virtue, fo they can but conquer her 
 modefly ; feducers, therefore, do not make their attacks at 
 noon-day, but cut their trenches at night. 
 
 Ilia verecundis luxefl praebenda puellis, 
 Qua tiinidus laiebras Iperat habere pudor. 
 
 People of fubflance may fin without being expofed for 
 their llolen pleafure ; but fervants, and the poorer fort of wo- 
 men, have feldom the opportunity of concealing a big belly, 
 or at leait the confequences of it. It is impoflible that an un- 
 fortunate girl of good parentage may be left deftitute, and 
 know no fhift for a livelihood than to become a nurfery, or 
 a chambermaid : fhe may be deligent, faithful, and obliging, 
 have abundance of modefly, and if you will, be religious: 
 -ihe may refill temptations, and preferve her chaitity for years 
 together, and yet at lait meet with an #nhappy moment in 
 which fhe gives up her honour to a powerful deceiver, who 
 afterwards neglects her. If fhe proves with child, her for- 
 rows are unfpeakable, and fhe cannot be reconciled with the 
 wretchednefs of her condition ; the fear of fhame attacks 
 her fo lively, that every thought diltracts her. All the fami- 
 ly fhe lives in have a great opinion of her virtue, and her lall 
 miftrefs took her for a faint. How will her enemies, that en- 
 vied her character, rejoice ! How will her relations detefl 
 her ! The more modeil fhe is now, and the more violently 
 the dread of coming to fhame hurries her away, the more 
 wicked and more cruel her reiblutions will be, either agamtl 
 herfelf or what fhe bears. 
 
LINE tOI, 35 
 
 It is commonly imagined, that fhe who can deftroy her 
 child, her own flefh and blood, muft have a vail flock of bar- 
 barity, and be a lavage monfler, different from other women ; 
 bat this is likewife a miilake, which we commit for the want 
 of underflanding nature and the force of paliions. The fame 
 woman that murders her baiiard in the mofl execrable man- 
 ner, if fhe is married afterwards, may take care of, cherifh, 
 and feel all the tendernefs for her infant that the fondeil mo- 
 ther can be capable of. All mothers naturally love their 
 children: but as this is a paffion. and all paffions centre in 
 felf-love, fo it may be fubdued by any fuperior pallion, to 
 footh that fame felf-love, which if nothing had intervened, 
 would have bid her fondle her offspring. Common whores, 
 whom all the world knows to be fuch, hardly ever deftroy 
 their children ; nay, even tbofe who affift in robberies and 
 murders feldom are guilty of this crime ; not becaufe they 
 are lefs cruel or more virtuous, but becaufe they have loft 
 their modefty to a greater degree, and the fear of fhame 
 makes hardly any impreffion upon them. 
 
 Our love to what never was within the reach of our femes 
 is but poor and mconfiderable, and therefore women have no 
 natural love to what they bear ; their affection begins after 
 the birth : what they feel before is the refult of reaion, edu- 
 cation, and the thoughts of duty. Even when children fitft 
 are born, the mother's love is but weak, and increafes with 
 the fenfibility of the child, and grows up to a prodigious 
 height, when by figns it begins to expreis his forrows and 
 joys, makes his wants known, and difcovers his love to no- 
 velty and the multiplicity of his defires. What labours and 
 hazards have not women undergone to maintain and fave 
 their children, what force and fortitude beyond their fex 
 have they not fhowr? in their behalf! but the vileil women 
 have exerted themfelves on this head as violently as the bed. 
 All are prompted to it by a natural drift and inclination, 
 without any coniideration of the injury or benefit the focie- 
 ty receives from it. There is no merit in pleating ourfelves, 
 and the very offspring is often irreparably ruined by the ex- 
 cefive fondnels of parents: for though infants, for two or 
 three years, may be the better for this indulging care of mo- 
 thers, yet afterwards, if not moderated, it may totally fpoil 
 them, and many it has brought to the gallows. 
 
 If the reader thinks I have been too tedious on that branch 
 of modeilv, by the help of which we endeavour to appear 
 D 2 
 
36 ' REMARKS. 
 
 chafte, I fhall make him amends in the brevity with which 
 I defign to treat of the remaining part, by which we would 
 make others believe, that .the eiteem we have for them ex- 
 ceeds the value we have for ourielves, and that we have no 
 disregard fo great to any interefl as we have to our own. 
 This laudable quality is commonly known by the name of 
 Manners and Good- breeding, and confirms in a fafhionable 
 habit, acquired by precept and example, of flattering the 
 pride and feliiihnefs of others, and concealing our own with 
 judgment and dexterity. This mud be only understood of 
 our commerce with our equals and fuperiors, and whilft we 
 are in peace and amity with them ; for our complaifance 
 muft never interfere with the rules of honour, nor the ho- 
 mage that is due to us from fervants and others that depend 
 upon us. 
 
 With this caution, I believe, that the definition will qua- 
 drate with every thing that can be alleged as a piece, or an 
 example of either good-breeding or ill manners ; and it will 
 be yery difficult throughout the various accidents of human 
 life and converiation, to find out an inltance of modefty or 
 impudence that is not comprehended in, and iliuitrated by 
 it, in all countries and in all ages. A man that afks consi- 
 derable favours of one who is a ftranger to him, without con- 
 sideration, is called impudent, becauie he mows openly his 
 felfiihnefs, without having any regard to the felfifhnefs of the 
 other. We may fee in it, likewife, the reafon why a man 
 ought to fpeak of his wife and children, and every thing that 
 is dear to him, as fparing as is poihble, and hardly ever of 
 himfelf, efpecially in commendation of them. A well-bred 
 man may be deiirous, and even greedy after praife and the 
 efteem of others, but to be praifed to his face offends his mo- 
 defty : the reafon is this ; all human cftatures, before they 
 are yet pohfhed, receive an extraordinary pleafure in hearing 
 themielves praifed : this we are all confcious of, and there- 
 fore when we fee a man openly enjoy and feail on this de- 
 light, in which we have no ihare, it roufes our felfiihnefs, and 
 immediately we begin to envy and hate him. For this rea- 
 fon, the well-bred man conceals his joy, and utterly denies 
 that he feels any, and by this means confulting and foothing 
 our felfiihnefs, he averts that envy and hatred, which other- 
 wife he would have juftly to fear. When from our childhood 
 we obierve how thofe are ridiculed who calmly can hear 
 their own praifes, it is poihble that we may itrcnuoufly en- 
 
LINE 1 01. 37 
 
 deavour to avoid that pleafure, that in trael of time we grow 
 uneafy at the approach of it : but this is not following the 
 dictates of nature, but warping her by education and cilftom ; 
 for if the generality of mankind took no delight in being 
 praifed, there could be no modefty in refilling to hear it. 
 
 The man of manners picks not the beft, but rather takes 
 the word out of the dim, and gets of every thing, unlefs it 
 be forced upon him, always the moft indifferent fhare. By 
 this civility the bell remains for others, which being a com- 
 pliment to all that are prefent, every body is pleafed with it: 
 the more they love themfelves, the more they are forced to 
 approve of his behaviour, and gratitude ftepping in, they are 
 obliged almoft, whether they will or not, to think favourably 
 of him. After this manner, it is the well-bred man iniinuates 
 himfelf in the efteem of all the companies he comes in, and 
 if he gets nothing elfe by it, the pleafure he receives in re- 
 Heeling on the applauie which he knows is fecretly given 
 him, is to a proud man more than an equivalent for his 
 former felf-denial, and overpays to felf-love with intereil, the 
 lofs it fuftained in his complaiiance to others. 
 
 If there are feven or eight apples or peaches among fix 
 people of ceremony, that are pretty near equal, he who is 
 prevailed upon to choofe firit, will take that, which, if there 
 be any conliderable difference, a child would know to be the 
 worft : this he does to infinuate, that he looks upon thofe he 
 is with to be of fuperior merit, and that there is not one 
 whom he wifhes not better to than he does to himfelf. It is 
 cuftom and a general practice that makes this modifn deceit 
 familiar to us, without being mocked at tiie abfurdity of it ; 
 for if people had been ufed to (peak from the fmcerity of 
 their hearts, and acl according to the natural ientiments they 
 felt within, until they were three or four and twenty, it would 
 be impoffible for them to afFift at this comedy of manners, 
 without either loud laughter or indignation ; and yet it is 
 certain, that fuch behaviour makes us more tolerable to cne 
 another, than we could be otherwife. 
 
 It is very advantageous to the knowledge of ourfelves, to 
 be able well to diftinguifh between good qualities and virtues. 
 The bond of fociety exacts from every member a certain re- 
 gard for others, which the higher! is not exempt from in the 
 prefence of the meaner! even in an empire : but when we are 
 by ourfelves, and fo far removed from company, as to be be- 
 yond the reach of their fenfes, the words modefty and impu~ 
 
 D 3 
 
38 REMARKS. 
 
 dence lofe their meaning*; a perfon may be wicked, but he 
 cannot be immcdeft while he is alone, and no thought can 
 be impudent that never was communicated to another. A 
 man of exalted pride may fo hide it, that no body fhall be 
 able to difcover that he has any ; and yet receive greater far 
 tisfaction from that paffion than another, who indulges him- 
 felf in the declaration of it before all the world. Good man- 
 ners having nothing to do with virtue or religion ; inflead of 
 extinguishing, they rather inflame the paffions. The man of 
 fenfe and education never exults more in his pride than when 
 he hides it with the greater!: dexterity ; and in feailing on 
 the applaufe, which he is fure all good judges will pay to his 
 behaviour, he enjoys a pleafure altogether unknown to the 
 fnort-fighted furly alderman, that fhows his haughtinefs gla- 
 ringly in his face, pulls off his hat to nobody, and hardly 
 deigns to fpeak to an inferior. 
 
 A man may carefully avoid every thing that in the eye of 
 the world, is efteemed to be the refult of pride, without mor- 
 tifying himfelf, or making the leaft conqueft of his paffion. 
 It is poflible that he only facrifices the mfipid outward part 
 of his pride, which none but filly ignorant people take de- 
 light in, to that part we ail feel within, and which the men 
 of the higheit fpirit and moll exalted genius feed on with fo 
 much eciiacy in filence. The pride of great and polite men 
 is no where more conlpicuous than in the debates about ce- 
 remony and precedency, where they have an opportunity of 
 giving their vices the appearance of virtues, and can make 
 the world believe that it is their care, their tendernefs for the 
 dignity of their office, or the honour of their mailers, what 
 is the refult of their own perlbnal pride and vanity. This is 
 moil manifeft in all negotiations of ambafladors and plenipo- 
 tentiaries, and mufl be known by all that obferve what is 
 tranfacled at public treaties ; and it will ever be true, that 
 men of the belt tafte have no relifh in their pride, as long as 
 any mortal can find out that they are proud. 
 
 Line 125. For there was not a bee but would 
 
 Get more, I won't fay, than he mould ; 
 But than, &c. 
 
 The vail efteem we have of ourfelves, and the fmall value 
 we have for others, make us all very unfair judges in our own 
 
LINE 125 & 128. 39 
 
 cafes. Few men can be perfuaded that they get too much 
 by thofe they fell to, how extraordinary foever their gains 
 are, when, at the fame time, there is hardly a profit fo incon- 
 fiderable, but they will grudge it to thofe they buy from ; 
 for this reafon the fmalleft of the feller's advantage being the 
 greateft perfaafive to the buyer; tradefmen are generally 
 forced to tell lies in their own defence, and invent a thoufand 
 improbable ftories, rather than difcover what they really get 
 by their commodities. Some old ftanders, indeed, that pre- 
 tend to more honefty (or what is more likely, have more 
 pride), than their neighbours, are ufed to make but few 
 words with their cuflomers, and refufe to fell at a lower price 
 than what they afk at firft. But thefe are commonly cun- 
 ning foxes that are above the world, and know that thofe 
 who have money, get often more by being furly, than others 
 by being obliging. The vulgar imagine they can find more 
 iincerity in the four looks of a grave old fellow, than there 
 appears in the fubmiilive air and inviting complacency of a 
 young beginner. But this is a grand miltake ; and if they 
 are mercers, drapers, or others, that have many forts of the 
 fame commodity, you may foon be fatisfied ; look upon their 
 goods and you will find each of them have their private 
 marks, which is a certain fign that both are equally careful 
 in concealing the prime coft of what they fell. 
 
 Line 128. As your gamefters do, 
 
 That, though at fair play ne'er will own 
 Before the lofers what they're won. 
 
 This being a general practice, which no body can be igno- 
 rant of, that has ever feen any play, there muft be fomething 
 in the make of man that is the occaiion of it : but as the 
 fearching into this will feem very trifling to many, I defire 
 the reader to fkip this remark, unlefs he be in perfect good 
 humour, and has nothing at all to do. 
 
 That gamefters generally endeavour to conceal their gains 
 before the lofers, feems to me to proceed from a mixture of 
 gratitude, pity, and felf-prefervation. All men are naturally 
 grateful while they receive a benefit, and what they fay or 
 do, while it affects and feels warm about them, is real, and 
 comes from the heart; but when that is over, the returns we 
 make generally proceed from virtue, good manners, reafon, 
 
 D 4 
 
40 REMARKS. 
 
 and the thoughts of duty, but not from gratitude, which is a 
 motive of the inclination. If we coniider, how tyrannically 
 the immoderate love we bear to ourfelves, obliges us to efteem 
 every body that with or without defign acts in our favour, 
 and how often we extend our affection to things inanimate, 
 when we imagine them to contribute to our prefent advan- 
 tage : if, I fay, we confider this, it will not be difficult to find 
 out which way our being pleafed with thofe whofe money 
 we win is owing to a principle of gratitude. The next mo- 
 tive is our pity, which proceeds from our confcioufnefs of the 
 vexation there is in lofing ; and as we love the efteem of 
 every body, we are afraid of forfeiting theirs by being the 
 caufe of their lofs. Laftly, we apprehend their envy, and fo 
 felf- prefer vation makes that we ftrive to extenuate firft the 
 obligation, then the reafon why w 7 e ought to pity, in hopes 
 that we mail have lefs of their ill-will and envy. When the 
 paffions mow themfelves in their full firength, they are known 
 by every body : When a man in power gives a great place 
 to one that did him a fmall kindnefs in his youth, we call it 
 gratitude : When a woman howls and wrings her hands at 
 the lofs of her child, the prevalent paffion is grief; and the 
 uneafinefs we feel at the fight of great misfortunes, as a man's 
 breaking his legs, or darning his brains out, is every where 
 called picy. But the gentle ftrokes, the flight touches of the 
 pafhons, are generally overlooked or millaken. 
 
 To prove my affertion, we have but to obferve what ge- 
 nerally paries between the winner and the lofer. The firft 
 is always complaiiant, and if the other will but keep his 
 temper, more than ordinary obliging; he is ever ready to hu- 
 mour the lofer, and willing to rectify his miftakes with pre- 
 caution, and the height of good manners. The lofer is un- 
 eafy, captious, morofe, and perhaps fwears and ftorms ; yet 
 as long as he fays or does nothing deiignedly affronting, the 
 winner takes all in good part, without offending, difturbing, 
 or contradicting him. Lofers, fays the proverb, muft have 
 leave to rail : All which fhow 7 s that the lofer is thought in 
 the right to complain, and for that very reafon pitied. That 
 we are afraid of the lofer's ill-will, is plain from our being 
 confcious that we are diipleafed with thofe we lofe to, and 
 envy we always dread when we think ourfelves happier than 
 others : From whence it follows, that when the winner en- 
 deavours to conceal his gains, his defign is to avert the mif- 
 chiefs he apprehends, and this is felf-prefervation ; the cares 
 
LINE 163. 4 1 
 
 of which continue to affect us as long as the motives that 
 firft produced them remain. 
 
 But a month, a week, or perhaps a much fhorter time af- 
 ter, when the thoughts of the obligation, and confequently 
 the winner's gratitude, are worn off, when the lofer has reco- 
 vered his temper, laughs at his lofs, and the reafon of the 
 winner's pity ceafes ; when the winner's apprehenfion of 
 drawing upGn him the ill-will and envy of the lofer is gone ; 
 that is to fay, as foon as all the paffions are over, and the 
 cares of felf-preiervation employ the winner's thoughts no 
 longer, he will not only make no fcruple of owning what he 
 has won, but will, if his vanity Heps in, likewife, with plea- 
 fure, brag off, if not exaggerate his gains. 
 
 It is poffible, that when people play together who are at 
 enmity, and perhaps defirous of picking a quarrel, or where 
 men playing for trifles contend for fuperiority of fkill, and 
 aim chiefly at the glory of conqueft, nothing mail happen of 
 what 1 have been talking of. Different paffions oblige us to 
 take different meafures ; what I have faid 1 would have un- 
 derdo od of ordinary play for money, at which men en- 
 deavour to get, and venture to lofe what they value : And 
 even here 1 know it will be objected by many, that though 
 they have been guilty of concealing their gains, yet they 
 never obferved thofe paffions which I allege as the caufes of 
 that frailty ; which is no wonder, becaufe few men will give 
 themfelves leifure, and fewer yet take the right method of 
 examining themfelves as they mould do. It is with the paf- 
 fions in men, as it is with colours in cloth : It is eafy to 
 know a red, a green, a blue, a yellow, a black, &c. in as 
 many different places ; but it mult be an artilt that can un- 
 ravel all the various colours and their proportions, that make 
 up the compound of a well-mixed cloth. In the fame man- 
 ner, may the paffions be difcovered by every body whilft 
 , they are diftinct, and a iingle one employs the whole man ; 
 but it is very difficult to trace every motive of thofe actions 
 that are the refult of a mixture of paffions. 
 
 Line 163. And virtue, who from politics 
 
 Has learn'd a thoufand cunning tricks, 
 Was, by their happy influence, 
 Made friends with vice 
 
 It may be faid, that virtue is made friends with vice, when 
 induitrious good people, who maintain their families, and 
 
 } 
 
42 REMARKS. 
 
 bring up their children handfomely, pay taxes, and are feve- 
 ral ways ufeful members of the fociety, get a livelihood by 
 fomething that chiefly depends on, or is very much influen- 
 ced by the vices of others, without being themfelves guilty 
 of, or acceflary to them, any otherwife than by way of trade, 
 as a druggift may be to poiibning, or a fword-cutler to blood- 
 fhed. 
 
 Thus the merchant, that fends corn or cloth into foreign 
 parts to purchafe wines and brandies, encourages the growth 
 or manufactory of his own country ; he is a benefactor to 
 navigation, increafes the cuftoms, and is many ways benefi- 
 cial to the public ; yet it is not to be denied, but that his 
 greatefl; dependence is lavifhnefs and drunkennefs : For, if 
 none were to drink wine but fuch only as ftand in need of it, 
 nor any body more than his health required, that multitude 
 of wine-merchants, vintners, coopers, &c. that make fuch a 
 confiderable fhow in this flourifhing city, would be in a mi- 
 ferable condition. The fame may be faid not only of card 
 and dice-makers, that are the immediate minifters to a legion 
 of vices ; but that of mercers, upholfterers, tailors, and 
 many others, that would be ftarved in half a year's time, if 
 pride and luxury were at once to be banifhed the nation. 
 
 Llne 167. The worfl of all the multitude 
 
 Did fomething for the common good. 
 
 1 his, I know, will feem to be a ftrange paradox to many ; 
 and I fhall be afked what benefit the public receives from 
 thieves and houfe-breakers. They are, I own, very pernici- 
 ous to human fociety, and every government ought to take 
 all imaginable care to root out and deftroy them; yet if all 
 people were nrictly honeft, and nobody would middle with, 
 or pry into any thing but his own, half the fmiths of the na- 
 tion would want employment; and abundance of workman- 
 fhip (which now lerves for ornament as v/ell as defence) is to be 
 feen every where both in town and country, that would ne- 
 ver have been thought of, but to fecure us againft the at- 
 tempts of pilferers and robbers. 
 
 If what I have faid be thought far fetched, and my 
 aflertion feems flill a paradox, I defire the reader to look up- 
 on the confumption of things, and he will find that the la- 
 zieft and moft unactive, the profligate and moll mifchievous, 
 are all forced to do fomething for the common good, and 
 
line i6y> 43 
 
 whilft their mouths are net fowed up, and they continue to 
 wear and otherwife deftroy what the induiirious are daily 
 employed about to make, fetch and procure, in fpite of 
 their teeth obliged to help, maintain the poor and the public 
 charges. The labour of millions would foon be at an end, 
 if there were not other millions, as I fay, in the fable. 
 
 -Employ'd, 
 
 To fee their handy-works deftroy'd. 
 
 But men are not to be judged by the confequences that 
 may fucceed their a&ions, but the fads themfelves, and the 
 motives which it fhall appear they acted from. If an ill-na- 
 tured mifer, who is aim oft a plumb, and fpends but fifty 
 pounds a -year, though he has no relation to inherit his wealth, 
 fhould be robbed of five hundred or a thoufand guineas, it 
 is certain, that as foon as this money fhould come to circu- 
 late, the nation would be the better for the robbery, and re- 
 ceive the fame, and as real a benefit from it, as if an arch- 
 bifhop had left the fame fum to the public ; yet juftice, and 
 the peace of fociety, require that he or they who robbed the 
 mifer fhould be hanged, though there were half a dozen of 
 them concerned. 
 
 Thieves and pick- pockets fteal for a livelihood, and either 
 what they can get honellly is not fufheient to keep them, or 
 elfe they have an averfion to conftant working : they want 
 to gratify their fenfes, have victuals, ftrong drink, lewd wo- 
 men, and to be idle when they pleafe. The victualler, who' 
 entertains them, and takes their money, knowing which way 
 they come at it, is very near as great a villain as his guefts. 
 But if he fleeces them well, minds his bufinefs, and is a pru- 
 dent man, he may get money, and be punctual with them he 
 deals with : The truily out- clerk, whofe chief aim is his maf- 
 ter's profit, fends him in what beer he wants, and takes care 
 not to lofe his cuftom ; while the man's money is good, he 
 thinks it no bufinefs of his to examine whom he gets it by. 
 In the mean time, the wealthy brewer, who leaves all the ma- 
 nagement to his fervants, knows nothing of the matter, but 
 keeps his coach, treats his friends, and enjoys his pleafure 
 with eafe and a good confeience; he gets an eftate; builds 
 houfes, aud educates his children in plenty, without ever 
 thinking on the labour which wretches perform, the ihifts 
 fools make, and the tricks knaves play to come at the com- 
 modity, by the vaft fale of which he amafies his great riches. 
 
 A highwayman having met with a considerable booty, 
 I 
 
44 REMARKS. 
 
 gives a poor common harlot, he fancies, ten pounds to new- 
 rig her from top to toe ; is there a fpruce mercer fo confci- 
 entious that he will refufe to fell her a thread fattin, though 
 he knew who fhe was ? She mud have fhoes and fockings, 
 gloves, the itay and mantua maker, the iempftrefs, the linen- 
 draper, all muil get fomething by her, and a hundred differ- 
 ent tradefmen dependent on thofe fhe laid her money out 
 with, may touch part of it before a month is at an end. The 
 generous gentleman, in the mean time, his money being 
 near fpent, ventured again on the road, but the fecond 
 clay having committed a robbery near Highgate, he was ta- 
 ken with one of his accomplices, and the next feffions both 
 were condemned, and fuffered the law. The money due on 
 their conviction fell to three country fellows, on whom it 
 was admirably well bellowed. One was an honeft farmer, a 
 fober pains- taking man, but reduced by misfortunes : The 
 fummer before, by the mortality among the cattle, he had 
 loft fix cows out often, and now r his landlord, to whom he 
 owed thirty pounds, had feized on all his flock. The other 
 w r as a day-labourer, who flruggled hard with the world, had 
 a fick wife at home, and feveral fmall children to provide 
 for. The third was a gentleman's gardener, who maintained 
 his father in prifon, where, being bound for a neighbour, he 
 had lain for twelve pounds almofl a year and a half; this act 
 of filial duty was the more meritorious, becaufe he had for 
 fome time been engaged to a young woman, whole parents 
 lived in good circumftances, but would not give their confent 
 before our gardener had fifty guineas of his own to fhow. 
 They received above fourfcore pounds each, which extrica- 
 ted every one of them out of the difficulties they laboured 
 under, and made them, in their opinion, the happiefl people 
 in the world. 
 
 Nothing is more deftruclive, either in regard to the health 
 or the vigilance and induflry of the poor, than the infamous 
 liquor, the name of which, derived from Juniper in Dutch, 
 is now, by frequent ufe, and the laconic i'pirit of the nation, 
 from a word of meddling length, fhrunk into a monofy liable, 
 intoxicating gin, that charms the unaclive, the defperate and 
 crazy of either fex, and makes the flarving fot behold his 
 rags and nakednefs with flupid indolence, or banter both in 
 fenfelefs laughter, and more infipid jells ! It is a fiery lake 
 that fets the brain in flame, burns up the entrails, and fcorches 
 every part within ; and, at the fame time, a Lethe of oblivion, 
 in which the wretch immerfed drowns his molt pinching 
 
LINE 167. 45 
 
 cares, arid with his reafon, all anxious refie&ion on brats that 
 cry for food, hard winters frofts, and horrid empty home. 
 
 In hot and aduft tempers it makes men quarrelfome, ren- 
 ders them brutes and favages, fets them on to fight for no- 
 thing, and has often been the caufe of murder. It has broke 
 and deflroyed the ftrongeft conftitutions, thrown them into 
 confumptions, and been the fatal and immediate occaiion of 
 apoplexies, phrenzies, and fudden death. But, as thefe lat- 
 ter mifchiefs happen but feldom, they might be overlooked 
 and connived at: but this cannot be faid of the many difeafes 
 that are familiar to the liquor, and which are daily and hour- 
 ly produced by it ; fuch as lofs of appetite, fevers, black and 
 yellow jaundice, convuliions, done and gravel, dropfies, and 
 leucophlegmacies. 
 
 Among the doting admirers of this liquid poifon, many of 
 the meaneft rank, from a fincere affection to the commodity 
 itfelf, become dealers in it, and take delight to help others 
 to what they love themfelves, as whores commence bawds 
 to make the profits of one trade fubfervienu to the pleafures 
 of the other. But as thefe ftarvelings commonly drink more 
 than their gains, they feldom, by felling, mend the wretch- 
 ednefs of condition they laboured under while they w r ere 
 only buyers. In the fag-end and outfkirts of the town, and 
 all places of the vileft refort, it is fold in fome part or other 
 of almoft every houfe, frequently in cellars, and fometimes in 
 the garret. The petty traders in this Stygian comfort, are 
 fupplied by others in fomewhat higher ilation, that keep pro- 
 feffed brandy fhops, and are as little to be envied as the for- 
 mer ; and among the middling people, I know not a more 
 miferable fhift for a livelihood than their calling.; whoever 
 would thrive in it mult, in the firfh place, be of a watchful 
 and fufpicious, as well as a bold and refolute temper, that 
 , he may not be impofed upon by cheats and fharpers, nor 
 out-builied by the oaths and impreca tions of hackney coach- 
 men and foot foldiers : in the feconcl, he ought to be a dab- 
 fter at grofs jokes and loud laughter, and have all the winning 
 ways to allure cuftomers and draw out their money, and be 
 well verfed in the low jefts and raileries the mob make ufe of 
 to banter prudence and frugality. He mud be affable and 
 obfequious to the moil defpicable ; always ready and offici- 
 ous to help a porter down with his ] oad, make hands with a 
 baiket woman, pull off his hat to an oyiter wench, and be 
 familiar with a beggar ; with patience and good humour he 
 
4^ , REMARKS. 
 
 niuft be able to endure the filthy actions and viler language 
 of nafty drabs, and the lewdeft rakehells, and without a 
 frown, or the lead averfion, bear with all the flench and fqua- 
 lor, noife and impertinence, that the utmofl indigence, lazi- 
 nels, and ebriety, can produce in the moft (hamelefs and 
 abandoned vulgar. 
 
 The vaft number of the fliops I fpeak of throughout the 
 city and fuburbs, are an aftonifhing evidence of the many 
 feducers, that, in a lawful occupation, are accefTary to the in- 
 troduction and increafe of all the {loth, fottifhnefs, want, and 
 mifery, which the abufe of ftrong waters is the immediate 
 caufe of, to lift above mediocrity perhaps half a fcore men 
 that deal in the fame commodity by wholefale, while, among 
 the retailers, though qualified as I required, a much greater 
 number are broke and ruined, for not abftaining from the 
 Circean cup they hold out to others, and the more fortunate 
 are their whole lifetime obliged to take 'the uncommon 
 pains, endure the hardfhips, and fwallow all the ungrateful 
 and mocking things I named, for little or nothing beyond a 
 bare fuftenance, and their daily bread. 
 
 The ihort- lighted vulgar in the chain of caufes feldom can 
 fee further than one link ; but thofe who can enlarge their 
 view, and will give themfelves the leifure of gazing on the 
 profpecl of concatenated events, may, in a hundred places, 
 fee good fpring up and pullulate from evil, as naturally as 
 chickens do from eggs. The money that arifes from the du- 
 ties upon malt is a considerable part of the national revenue, 
 and mould no ipirits be diitilled from it, the public treafure 
 would prodigiouily furrer on that head. But if we would fet 
 in a true light the many advantages, and large catalogue of 
 folid bleflings that accrue from, and are owing to the evil I 
 treat of, we are to conh'der the rents that are received, the 
 ground that is tilled, the tools that are made, the cattle that 
 are employed, and above all, the multitude of poor that are 
 maintained, by the variety of labour, requited m hufbandry, 
 in malting, in carriage and diftillatiorf, before we can have 
 the product of malt, which we call low wines, and is but the 
 beginning rrom which the various fpirits are afterwards to be 
 made. 
 
 Befides this, a (harp-lighted good-humoured man might 
 pick up abundance of good from the rubbifti, which I have 
 all flung away for evil. He would tell me, that whatever 
 floth and fottifhnefs might be occasioned by the abufe of 
 
LINE 167. 47 
 
 mait-fpirits, the moderate ufe of it was of ineftimable benefit 
 to the poor, who could purchafe no cordials of higher prices, 
 that it was an univerfal comfort, not only in cold and weari- 
 nefs, but moft of the afflictions that are peculiar to the necef- 
 fitous, and had often to the moil deftitute fupplied the places 
 of meat, drink, clothes, and lodging. That the ftupid indo- 
 lence in the moil wretched condition occafioned by thofe 
 compoiing draughts, which I complained of, was a bleffing 
 to thoufands, for that certainly thofe were the happieft, who 
 felt the leaft pain. As to difeafes, he would fay, that, as it 
 caufed fome, fo it cured others, and that i/ the excefs in thofe 
 liquors had been fudden death to fome few, the habit of 
 drinking them daily • prolonged the lives of many, whom 
 once it agreed with ; that for the lofs fuftained from the in- 
 fignificant quarrels it created at home, we were overpaid in 
 the advantage we received from it abroad, by upholding the 
 courage of foldiers, and animating the failors to the combat ; 
 and that in the two lafl wars no confiderable victory had 
 been obtained without. 
 
 To the difmal account I have given of the retailers, and 
 what they are forced to fubmit to, he would anfwer, that 
 not many acquired more than middling riches in any trade, 
 and that what I had counted fo offenfive and intolerable in 
 the calling, was trifling to thofe who were ufed to it ; that 
 what feemed irkfome and calamitous to fome, was delightful 
 and often ravifhing to others ; as men differed in circum- 
 ftances and education. He would put me in mind, that the 
 profit of an employment ever made amends for the toil and 
 labour that belonged to it, nor forget, Dulcis odor lucri e re 
 qualibet ; or to tell me, that the fmell of gain was fragrant 
 even to night-workers. 
 
 If I mould ever urge to him, that to have here and there 
 one great and eminent diftiller, was a poor equivalent for 
 the vile means, the certain want, and lading mifery of fo ma- 
 ny thoufand wretches, as were neceiTary to raife them, he 
 would anfwer, that of this I could be no" judge, becaufe I do 
 not know what vaft benefit they might afterwards be of to 
 the commonwealth. Perhaps, would he fay, the man thus 
 raifed will exert himfelf in the commiffion of the peace, or 
 other ftation, with vigilance and zeal againfl the diflblute 
 and difaffecled, and retaining his flirring temper, be as induf- 
 trious^in fpreading loyalty, and the reformation of manners, 
 throughout every cranny of the wide populous town, as 
 
48 REMARKS. 
 
 once he was in filling it with fpirits ; till he becomes at lafl 
 the fcourge of whores, of vagabonds and beggars, the terror 
 of rioters and difcontented rabbles, and coniiant plague to 
 fabbath-breaking butchers. Here my good-humoured an- 
 tagonift would exult and triumph over me, efpecially if he 
 could initance to me fuch a bright example, what an uncom- 
 mon bleffing, would he cry out, is this man to his country ! 
 how fhining and illuftrious his virtue ! 
 
 To juftify his exclamation, he would demonftrate to me, 
 thai is was impoilible to give a fuller evidence of felf-denial 
 in a grateful mind, than to fee him at the expence of his 
 quiet and hazard of his life and limbs, be always haraffing, 
 and even for trifles, perfecuting that* very clafs of men to 
 whom he owes his fortune, from no other motive than his 
 averfion to idlenefs, and great concern for religion and the 
 public welfare. 
 
 Line 173. Parties directly oppolite, 
 
 Affift each other, as 'twere for fpite. 
 
 Nothing was more inftrumental in forwarding the Reforma- 
 tion, than the iloth and ftupidity of the Roman clergy ; yet 
 the fame reformation has roufed them from the lazinefs and 
 ignorance they then laboured under ; and the followers of 
 Luther, Calvin, and others, may be faid to have reformed not 
 only thofe whom they drew into their fentiment, but like- 
 wife thofe who remained their greater! oppofers. The cler- 
 gy of England, by being fevere upon the Schifmatics, and 
 upbraiding them with want of learning, have raifed them- 
 felves fuch formidable enemies as are not eafily anfwered ; 
 and again, the DifTenters by prying into the lives, and dili- 
 gently watching all the actions of their powerful antagonists, 
 render thofe of the Eftabliihed Church more cautious of giv- 
 ing offence, than in all probability they would, if they had no 
 malicious over- lockers to fear. It is very much owing to the 
 great number of Hugonots that have always been in France, 
 fince the late utter extirpation of them, that that kingdom has 
 a lefs dkTolute and more learned clergy to boait of than any 
 other Roman Catholic country. The clergy of that church 
 are no where more fovereign than in Italy, and therefore no 
 where more debauched ; nor any where more ignorant than 
 they are in Spain, becaufe .their doctrine is nowhere lefs op- 
 pofed. 
 
LINE I730 40 
 
 Who would imagine, that virtuous women, unknowingly, 
 mould be inftrumental in promoting the advantage of profti- 
 tutcs ? Or (what flill feems the greater paradox) that incon- 
 tinence ihould be made ferviceable to the prefervation of 
 chaftity ? and yet nothing is more true. A vicious young 
 fellow, after having been an hour or two at church, a ball, or 
 any other afTembly, where there is a great parcel of handfome 
 women drefTed to the belt advantage, will have his imagina- 
 tion more fired, than if he had the fame time been poling at 
 Guildhall, or walking in the country among a flock of fheep. 
 The coniequence of this is, that he will ftrive to fatisfy the 
 appetite that is raifed in him ; and when he finds honelt wo- 
 men obftinate and uncomatable, it is very natural to think, 
 -that he will haften to others that are more compilable. Who 
 would fo much as furmife, that this is the fault of the vir- 
 tuous women ? They have no thoughts of men in dreffing 
 themfelves, poor fouls, and endeavour only to appear clean 
 and decent, every one according to her quality, 
 
 I am far from encouraging vice, and think it would be an 
 unfpeakable felicity to a itate, if the (in of uncleannefs could 
 be utterly baniihed from it ; but 1 am afraid it is impoffible : 
 The paffions of fome people are too violent to be curbed by 
 any law or precept ; and it is wifdom in all governments to 
 bear with leiTer inconv§niencies to prevent greater. If 
 courtezans and ftrumpets were to be profecuted w T ith as much 
 rigour as fome filly people would have it, what locks or bars 
 would be furficient to preferve the honour of our wives and 
 daughters ? For it is not only that the women in general 
 would meet with far greater temptations, and the attempts 
 to enfnare the innocence of virgins would feem more excuie- 
 able, even to the fober part of mankind, than they do now : 
 but fome men would grow outrageous, and ravifhing would 
 become a common crime. Where fix or feven thoufand 
 failors arrive at once, as it often happens, at Amfterdam, that 
 have feen none but their own fex for many months together, 
 how is it to be fuppofed that honeft women mould walk the 
 ftreets unmolefted, if there were no harlots to be had at rea- 
 fonable prices ? for which reafon, the wife rulers of that well- 
 ordered city always tolerate an uncertain number of houfes ? 
 in which women are hired as publicly as horfes at a livery 
 liable ; and there being in this toleration a great deal of pru- 
 dence and economy to be feen, a fhort account of it will be 
 no tirefome digreffion. 
 
 E 
 
$Q REMARKS. 
 
 In the firft place, the houfes I fpeak of are allowed to be 
 no where but in the moil ilovenly and unpolifhed part of the 
 town, where feamen and ftrangers of no repute chiefly lodge 
 and refort. The ftreet in which moil of them iland is 
 counted fcandalous, and the infamy is extended to all the 
 neighbourhood round it. In the fecond, they are only 
 places to meet and bargain in, to make appointments in or- 
 der to promote interviews of greater fecrecy, and no manner 
 of lewdnefs is ever fuffered to be tranfacted in them : which 
 order is fo ilrictly obferved, that bar the ill manners and 
 noife of the company that frequent them, you will meet with 
 no more indecency, and generally lefs lafcivioufnefs there, 
 than with us are to be feen at a playhoufe. 
 
 Thirdly, the female traders that come to thefe evening 
 exchanges are always the fcum of the people, and generally 
 fuch as in the day time carry fruit and other eatables about 
 in wheel-barrows. The habits, indeed, they appear in at night 
 are very different from their ordinary ones ; yet they are 
 commonly fo ridiculouily gay, that they look more like the 
 Roman dreffes of flrolling actreiTes than gentlewomen's 
 clothes : if to this you add the awkwardnefs, the hard hands, 
 and courfe breeding of the damfels that wear them, there is 
 no great reafon to fear, that many of the better fort of 
 people will be tempted by them. 
 
 The muiic in thefe temples of Venus is performed by or- 
 gans, not out of refpecl to the deity that is worfhipped in 
 them, but the frugality of the owners, whofe buiinefs it is to 
 procure as much found for as little money as they can, and 
 the policy of the government, who endeavour, as little as is 
 poffible to encourage the breed of pipers and fcrapers. All 
 feafaring men, efpecially the Dutch, are like the element 
 they belong to, much given to loudnefs and roaring, and 
 the noife of half a-dozen of them, when they call themfelves 
 merry, is fufficient to drown twice the number of flutes 
 or violins ; whereas, w T ith one pair of organs, they can 
 make the whole houfe ring, and are at no other charge than 
 the keeping of one fcurvy mufician, which can coil them 
 but little : yet notwithstanding the good rules and Ariel dif- 
 cipline that are obferved in thefe markets of love, the fchout 
 and his officers are always vexing, mulcting, and, upon the 
 lead complaint, removing the miferable keepers of them : 
 which policy is of two great ufes ; firil, it gives an opportu- 
 nity to a large parcel of officers, the magiilrates make ufe o£ 
 
LINE I73. 51 
 
 eh many occafions, and which they could not be without, 
 to fqueeze a living out of the immoderate gains accruing 
 from the worft of employments, and, at the fame time, 
 punim thofe neceffary profligates, the bawds and panders, 
 which, though they abominate, they defire yet not wholly 
 to deftroy. Secondly, as on feveral accounts it might be 
 dangerous to let the multitude into the fecret, that thofe 
 houi'es and the trade that is drove in them are connived at, 
 fo by this means appearing unblameabie, the wary magis- 
 trates preferve thernfelves in the good opinion of the weaker 
 fort of people, who imagine that the government is always 
 endeavouring, though unable, to fupprefs what it actually 
 tolerates : whereas, if they had a mind to root them out, 
 their power m the adm migration of juftice is fo fovereign and 
 extenllve, and they know fo well how to have it executed, 
 that one wee!:, nay, one night might fend them all a packing,, 
 
 In Italy, the toleration of (trumpets is yet more barefaced, 
 as is evident from their public Hews. At Venice and Naples, 
 impurity is a kind of merchandife and traffic ; the courte- 
 zans at Rome, and the cantoneras in Spain, compofe a body 
 in the ftare, and are under a legal tax and import. It is well 
 known, that the reaion why fo many good politicians as 
 thefe tolerate lewd houfes, is not their irreiigion, but to pre- 
 vent a worfe evil, an impurity of a more execrable kind, and 
 to provide for the fafety of women of honour, " About 
 " two hundred and fifty years ago," fays Monfier de St. Di- 
 41 dier, Venice being in want of courtezans, the republic 
 " was obliged to procure a great number from foreign parts." 
 Doglioni, who has written the memorable affairs of Venice, 
 highly extols the wifdom of the republic in this point, 
 which fecured the chaftity of women of honour, daily ex- 
 pofed to public violences, the churches and confecrated 
 places not being a fufficient afylu'm for their chaftity. 
 
 Our univerlities in England are much belied, if in fome 
 colleges there was not a monthly allowance ad expurgandos 
 renes\ and time Was when monks and priefts in Germany 
 were allowed concubines on paying a certain yearly duty to 
 their prelate. " it is generally believed" fays Monlieur 
 Bayle, yio whom I owe the laft paragraph) " that avarice 
 was the caufe of this fhameful indulgence ; but it is more 
 probable their deiign was to prevent their tempting 
 modeft women, and to quiet the uneafinefs of hufbands, 
 whofe refentments the clergy do well to avoid. From 
 
 £ 2 
 
5"2 REMARKS'. 
 
 what has been laid, it is manifeft that there is a ne- 
 eeility of facrificing one part of womankind to preferve the 
 other, and prevent a filthinefs of a more heinous nature, 
 From whence I think I may juflly conclude (what was 
 the feeming paradox I went about to prove) that chafti- 
 ty may be fupported by incontinence, and the bed of vir- 
 tues want the aiiiilance of the woril of vices. 
 
 Line 177. The root of evil, avarice, 
 
 That damn'd ill-natur'd baneful vice, 
 Was Have to prodigality. 
 
 1 have joined fo many odious epithets to the word avarice, 
 in compliance to the vogue of mankind, who generally be- 
 llow more ill language upon this than upon any other vice, 
 and indeed not undefervedly ; for there is hardly a mifchief 
 to be named which it has not produced at one time or other : 
 but the true reafcn why every body exclaims- fo much 
 againft it, is, that almoft every body fullers by it ; for the 
 more the money is hoarded up by fome, the fcarcer it muil 
 grow among the reft, and therefore when men rail very much 
 at mifers, there is generally felf-intereil at bottom. 
 
 As there is no living without money, fo thofe that are 
 unprovided, and have nobody to give them any, are obliged 
 to do fome fervice or other to the fociety, before they can 
 come at it ; but every body eileeming his labour as he does 
 himfelf, which is generally not under the value, moil people 
 that want money only to fpend it. again prefently, imagine 
 they do more for it than it is worth. Men cannot forbear 
 looking upon the necefiaries of life as their due, whether 
 they work or not ; becauie they find that nature, without 
 confulting wdiethcr they have victuals or not, bids them eat 
 whenever they are hungry ; for which reafon, every body 
 endeavours to get what he wants with as much eafe as he can; 
 and therefore when men rind that the trouble they are put to 
 in getting money is either more or lefs, according as thofe 
 they would have it from are more or lefs tenacious, it is very 
 natural for them to be angry at covctoufnefs in general ; for 
 it obliges them either to go without what they have occafion 
 fcr, or elfe to take greater pains for it than they are willing. 
 
 Avarice, notwkhflanding it is the occafion of fo may evils, 
 ; s yei very necellary to the fociety, to glean and gather what 
 
LINE I77. 53 
 
 has been dropt and fcattered by the contrary vice. Was it 
 not for avarice, fpendthrifts would foon want materials ; 
 and if none would lay up and get fafter than they fpend, 
 very few could fpend fader than they get. That it is a Have 
 to prodigality, as I have called it, is evident from fo many 
 mifers as we daily fee toil and labour, pinch and (larve them- 
 selves, to enrich a lavifh heir. Though thefe two vices ap- 
 pear very oppofite, yet they often affift each other. Florio 
 is an extravagant young blade, of a very profufe temper ; as 
 he is the only fon of a very rich father, he wants to live high, 
 keep horfes and dogs, and throw his money about, as he 
 fees fome of his companions do ; but the old hunks will part 
 with no money, and hardly allows him neceffarles. Florio 
 would have borrowed money upon his own credit long ago; 
 but as all would be loft, if he died before his father, no pru- 
 dent man would lend him any. At laft he has met with the 
 greedy Corn-am, who lets him have money at thirty per cent. 
 and now Florio thinks him felf happy, and fpends a thoufand 
 a-year. Where would Cornaro ever have got fuch a prodi- 
 gious mtereft, if it was not for fuch a fool as Florio, who will 
 give fo great a price for money to fling it away? And how 
 would Florio get it to fpend, if he had not lit of fuch a greedy 
 ufurer as Cornaro, whofe exceinve covetoufnefs makes him 
 overlook the great rifk he runs in venturing fuch great fums 
 upon the life of a wild debauchee. 
 
 Avarice is no longer the reverie of profofenefs, than while 
 it fignifies that fordid love of money, and narrownefs of foul 
 that hinders mifers from parting with what they have, and 
 makes them covet it only to hoard up. But there is a fort 
 of avarice which con lifts in a greedy defire of riches, in or- 
 der to fpend them, and this often meets with prodigality in 
 the fame perfons, as is evident in raoft courtiers and great 
 officers, both civil and military. In their buildings and fur- 
 niture, equipages and entertainments, their gallantry is dif-» 
 played with the greater! profuiion ; while the bafe actions they 
 iubmit to for lucre, and the many frauds and impoiitions 
 they are guilty of, difcover the utmoft avarice. This mix- 
 ture of contrary vices, comes up exactly to the character of 
 Catiline, of whom it is faid, that he was appetens aliehi & fui 
 profufus, greedy after the goods of others, and lavifh of his 
 
 E 3 
 
04 REMARKS, 
 
 Line 180. That noble fin - 
 
 I he prodigality, I call a noble fin, is not that which has 
 avarice for its companion, and makes men unreafonably pro- 
 fufe to fome of what they unjuflly extort from others, but 
 that agreeable good-natured vice that makes the chimney 
 fmoke, and all the tradefmep fmile ; I mean the unmixed 
 prodigality of heedlefs and voluptuous men, that being edu- 
 cated in plenty, abhor the rile thoughts of lucre, and lavifh 
 away only what others took pains to fcrape together ; fuch 
 as. indulge their inclinations at their own expellee, that have 
 the continual fatisfaction of Bartering old gold for new plea- 
 fures, and from the excefhve largenefs of a diffuiive foul, are 
 made guilty of defpifing too much what moll people over- 
 value 
 
 When I fpeak thus honourably of this vice, and treat it 
 with fo much tendernefs and good manners as I do, 1 have 
 the fame thing at heart that made me give fo many ill names 
 to the reverfe of it, viz. the intereft of the public ; for as the 
 avaricious does no good to himfelf, and is injurious to all the 
 world befides, except his heir, fo the prodigul is a bleffing to 
 the whole fociety, and injures no body but himfelf.- It is true, 
 that as moil of the firft are knaves, fo the latter are all fools ; 
 yet they are delicious moriels for the public to feaft on, and 
 may with as much juftice,as the French call the monks the pa- 
 tridges of the women, be fly led the woodcocks of the fociety. 
 Was it not for prodigality, nothing could make us amends for 
 the rapine and extortion of avarice in power. When a cove- 
 tous ftatefman is gone, who fpent his whole life in fattening 
 himfelf with the fpoils of the nation, and had by pinching and 
 plundering heaped up an immenfe treafure it, ought to fill 
 every good member of tb^ fociety with joy, to behold the un- 
 common profufenefs of his fon. This is refunding to the pub- 
 lic what was robbed from it. Rearming of grants is a barba- 
 rous way of (tripping, and it is ignoble to ruin a man falter than 
 he does it hirnielf, when he lets about it in fuch good earned. 
 Does he not feed an infinite number of dogs of all forts and 
 . though he never hunts \ keep more horfes than any no- 
 bleman in the kingdom, though he never rides them ; and 
 i as large an allowance to an ill-favoured whore as would 
 a dutche h he never lies with her ? Is he not ftill 
 
 more extravagant in thofe things he makes ufe of? There- 
 
 tn, call him public- fpiritecj 
 
like i So, .55 
 
 lord, nobly bountiful and magnificently generous, and in a 
 few years he will fufler himfelf to be ftript his own way. As 
 long as the nation has its own back again, we ought not to 
 quarrel with the manner in which the plunder is repaid. 
 
 Abundance of moderate men, I know, that are enemies to 
 extremes, will tell me, that frugality might happily fupply the 
 place of the two vices I fpeak of, that if men had not fo ma- 
 ny profufe ways of fpending wealth, they would not be 
 tempted to fo many evil practices to fcrape it together, and 
 consequently that the fame number of men, by equally avoid- 
 ing both extremes, might render themfelves more happy, and 
 be lefs vicious without, than they could with them. Who- 
 ever argues thus, ihows himfelf a better man than he is a po- 
 litician. Frugality is like honefty, a mean ftarving virtue, 
 that is only fit for fmall focieties of good peaceable men, who 
 are contented to be poor, fo they may be eafy ; but, in a large 
 ftirring nation, you may have foon enough of it. It is an idle 
 dreaming virtue that employs no hands, and therefore very 
 ufelefs in a trading country, where there are vafl numbers 
 that one way or other rnuft be all fet to work. Prodigality 
 has a thoufand inventions to keep people from fitting itill, 
 that frugality would never think of ; and as this mult con- 
 fume a prodigious wealth, fo avarice again knows innume- 
 rable tricks to raiie it together, which frugality would fcorn 
 to make ufe of. 
 
 Authors are always allowed to compare fmall things to great 
 ones, eipecially if they afk leave firft. Si licit exemplis, \£c. 
 but to compare great things to mean trivial ones, is unfuf- 
 ferable.. unlefs it be in burlefque ; otherwife I would compare 
 the body politic (I confefs the fi mile is very low) to a bowl 
 of punch. Avarice mould be the fouring, and prodigality 
 the fweetening of it. The water I would call the ignorance, 
 folly, and credulity of the floating infipid multitude ; while 
 wifdom, honour, fortitude, and the reft of the fublime quali- 
 ties of men, which feparated by art from the dregs of nature, 
 the fire of glory has exalted and refined into a fpiritual effence, 
 fnould be an equivalent to brandy. I do not doubt but a 
 "Weftphalian, Laplander, or any other dull ftranger that is un- 
 acquainted with the wholefome compofition, if he was to fell 
 the feveral. ingredients apart, would think it impoffible they 
 Hiould make any tolerable liquor. The lemons would be too 
 four, the fugar too lufcious, the brandy he will fay is too 
 ..flrong ever to be drank in any quantity, and the water he 
 
 E 4 
 
§6 REMARKS. 
 
 will call a taft clefs liquor, only fit for cows and horfes : yet 
 experience teaches us, that the ingredients I named, judiciouf- 
 ly mixed, will make an excellent liquor, liked of, and admired 
 by men of exquiiite palates. 
 
 As to our vices in particular, I could compare avarice, that 
 caufes fo much miichief, and is complained of by every body 
 who is not a miter, to a griping acid that Tets our teeth on 
 edge, and is unpleafant to every palate that is not debauched: 
 I could compare the gaudy trimming and fplendid equipage 
 of a profufe beau, to the gUftening brightnefs of the fineit loaf 
 fugar ; for as the one, by correcting the fharpnefs, prevent the 
 injuries which a gnawing four might do to the bowels, fo the 
 other is a pleating balfam that heals and makes amends for 
 the fmart, which the multitude always fuffers from the gripes 
 of the avaricious; while the fubftances of both melt a\vay 
 alike, and they confume themfelves by being beneficial to 
 the feveial compofitions they belong to. I could carry on 
 the fimile as to proportions, and the exact nicety to be oh- 
 ferved in them, which would make it appear how little any 
 of the ingredients could be fpared in either of the mixtures ; 
 but I will not tire my reader by purfuing too far a ludicrous 
 comparifon, w-hen I have other matters to entertain him with 
 of greater importance; and to fum up what 1 have faid m 
 this and the foregoing remark, {hall only add, that I look up- 
 on avarice and prodigality in the fociety, as I do upon two 
 contrary poifons in phyiic, of which it is certain that the 
 noxious qualities being by mutual miichief corrected in both, 
 they may affiit each other, and often make a good medicine 
 between them. 
 
 Line 180. Whilft luxury 
 
 Employ' d a million of the poor, &c. 
 
 If every thing is to be luxury (as in Uriel nefs it ought) that 
 is not immediately neceffary to make man fubiift as he is a 
 living creature, there is nothing elfe to be found in the world, 
 no not even among the naked lavages ; of which it is not 
 probable that there are any but what by this time have made 
 forne improvements upon their former manner of living ; 
 and either in the preparation of their eatables, the ordering 
 of their huts, or otherwife, added fomething to what once 
 fufficed them. This definition every body will fay is too ri- 
 
iine 1 80. 57 
 
 gorous : I am of the fame opinion ; but if we are to abate 
 one inch of this feverity, I am afraid we (hall not know where 
 to Hop. When people tell us they only defire to keep them- 
 felves fweet and clean, there is no underftanding what they 
 would be at : if they made ufe of thefe words in their genuine 
 proper literal fenfe, they might be foon fatisfied without 
 much coil or trouble, if they did not want water : but thefe 
 two little adjectives are fo comprehenfive, efpecialiy in the 
 dialect of fome ladies, that nobody can guefs how far they 
 may be ftretched. The comforts of life are likewife fo vari- 
 ous and extenfive, that nobody can tell what people mean 
 by them, except he knows what fort of life they lead. The 
 fame obfcurity I obferve in the words decency and conve- 
 niency, and I never underftand them, unlefs I am acquainted 
 with the quality of the perfons that make ufe of them. Peo- 
 ple may go to church together, and be all of one mind as 
 much as they pleafe, I am apt to believe that when they pray 
 for their daily bread, the bifliop includes feveral things in 
 that petition which the fexton does not think on. 
 
 By what I have faid hitherto I would only mow, that if 
 once we depart from calling every thing luxury that is not 
 abfolutely neceifary to keep a man alive, that then there is no 
 luxury at all; for if the wants of men are innumerable, then 
 what ought to fupply them has no bounds ; what is called 
 fuperrluous, to fome degree of people, will be thought requi- 
 fite tothofe of higher quality ; and neither the world, nor the 
 fkill of man can produce any thing fo curious or extravagant, 
 but fome molt gracious fovereign or other, if it either eafes 
 or diverts him, will reckon it among the neceiTaries of life ; 
 not meaning every body's life, but that of his facred perfon. 
 
 It is a received notion, that luxury is as deltru&ive to the 
 wealth of the whole body politic, as it is to that of every in- 
 dividual perfon who is guilty of it, and that a national fruga- 
 lity enriches a country in the fame manner, as that which is 
 lefs general increafes the eftates of private families. I con- 
 fefs, that though I have found men of much better under- 
 Handing than myfelf of this opinion, I cannot help dirTenting 
 from them in this point. They argue thus : We fend, fay 
 they, for example, to Turkey of woollen manufactory, and 
 other things of our own growth, a million's worth ever year; 
 for this we bring back iilk, mohair, drugs, &c. to the value 
 of twelve hundred thoufand pounds, that are all fpent in our 
 own country. By this, fay they 5 we get nothing ; but if moil 
 
5$ R'EMA!tKS\ 
 
 <>f us would be content with our own growth, and fo confume 
 but half the quantity of thofe foreign commodities, then thofe 
 in Turkey, who would ftill want the fame quantity of our 
 manufactures, would be forced to pay ready money for the 
 reft, and fo by the balance of that trade only, the nation 
 fhould get fix hundred thoufand pounds per annum. 
 
 To examine the force of this argument, we will fuppofe 
 (what they would have; that but half the iilk, &c. fhall be 
 confumed in England of what there is now ; we will fuppofe 
 likewiie, that thofe in Turkey, though we refufe to buy 
 above half as much of their commodities as we ufed to do, 
 either can or will not be without the fame quantity of our 
 manufactures they had before, and that they will pay the 
 balance in money ; that is to fay, that they fhall give us as 
 much gold or lilver, as the value of what they buy from us, 
 exceeds the value of what we buy from them. Though what 
 we fuppofe might perhaps be done for one year, it is impof- 
 jibleit mould lalt : Buying is bartering ; and no nation can 
 buy goods of others, that has none of her own to purchafe 
 them with. Spain and Portugal, that are yearly fupplied 
 with new gold and filver from their mines, may for ever buy 
 for ready money, as long as their yearly increafe of gold or 
 ftlver continues ; but then money is their growth, and the 
 commodity of the country. We know that we could not 
 continue long to purchafe the goods of other nations, if they 
 would not take our manufactures in payment for them ; and 
 why fhould we judge otherwife of other nations ? If thofe 
 in Turkey, then, had no more money fall from the Ikies than 
 we, let us fee what would be the confequence of what we 
 fuppofed. The iix hundred thoufand pounds in iilk, mo- 
 hair, &-c. that are left upon their hands the frit year, muft 
 make thofe commodities fall considerably : Of this the Dutch 
 and French will reap the beneiit as much as ourfelves ; and 
 if we continue to refufe taking their commodities in pay- 
 ment for our manufactures, they can trade no longer with 
 us, but mult content themfelves with buying what they 
 want of fuch nations as are willing to take what we refufe, 
 though their goods are much worfe than ours ; and thus our 
 Commerce with Turkey muft in few years be inraihbly lolt. 
 
 But they will fay, perhaps, that to prevent the ill confe- 
 quence I have mowed, we fhall take the Turkifh merchan- 
 diles as formerly, and only be io frugal as to confume but 
 half the quantity of them ourfelves, and fend the reit abroad 
 
line i So. 55 
 
 to be fo]d to others. Let us fee what this will do, and whe- 
 ther it will enrich the nation by the balance of that trade 
 with fix hundred thoufand pounds. In the firft place, I 
 will grant them that our people at home making ufe of fo 
 much more of our own manufactures, thofe who were em- 
 ployed in filk, mohair, &c. will get a living by the various 
 preparations of woollen goods, But, in the feconcl, I cannot 
 allow that the goods can be fold as formerly ; for fuppofe 
 the half that is wore at home to be fold at the fame rate as 
 before, certainly the other half that is lent abroad will want 
 very much of it : For we muft fend thofe goods to .markets 
 already iupplied ; and befides that, there muff be freight, in- 
 furance, proviflon, and all other charges deducted, and the 
 merchants in general muft lofe much more by this half that 
 is refhipped, than they got by the half that is confumed 
 here. For, though the woollen manufactures are our own 
 product, yet they ftand the merchant that mips them off to 
 foreign countries., in as much as they do the fhopkeeper here 
 that retails them : fo that if the returns for what he fends 
 abroad repay him not what his goods coil him -here, with all 
 other charges, till he has the money. and a good intereft for 
 it in cafh, the merchant muft run out, and the upfhot would 
 be, that the merchants in general, finding they loft by the 
 Turkiih commodities they fent abroad, would (hip no more 
 of our manufactures, than what would pay for as much filk, 
 mohair, &-c. as would be confumed here. Other nations 
 would foon find ways to fupply them with as much as we 
 fhould fend ihort, and fome where or other to difpofe of the 
 goods we mould refufe : So that all .Id get by this 
 
 frugality, would be, that thofe in Turkey, would take but 
 half the quantity of our manufactures cf what they do now, 
 while we encourage and wear their meichandiies, without 
 which they are not able to purchafe ours. 
 
 As I have had the mortificatic2: ; i eral years, to meet 
 
 with abundance of fenfible people againft this opinion, and 
 who always thought me wrong in this calculation, fo I had 
 the pleafure at laft to fee the wifdom of the nation fall into 
 the lame fentiments, as is fo manlfeft from an act. of parlia- 
 ment made in the year 1721, where the legislature difobliges 
 a powerful and valuable company, and overlooks very 
 weighty inconveniences at home, to promote the intereft of 
 Turkey trade, and not onjy encourage: the confumptioa 
 
6*3 TtfEMARKS. 
 
 of filk and mohair, but forces the fubje&s, on penalties, to 
 make ufe of them whether they will or not. 
 
 What is laid to the charge of luxury belides, is, that it 
 increafes avarice and rapine : And where they are feigning 
 vices, offices of the greateft trufl are bought arid ; >id; the 
 minifters that mould ferve the public " u 
 corrupted, and the count ies danger of be- 
 
 ing betrayed to the higher! bidders : And, ] -. Uy, that it effe- 
 minates and enervates the peop ,bj .. hich the nations become 
 an eafy prey to the firit invaders. Thefe are indeed terrible 
 things ; but what is put to the account of luxury belongs to 
 xnale-adminiftration, and is the fault of bad politics. Every 
 government ought to be thoroughly acquainted with, and 
 iledfailly to purfue the intereft of the country. Good poli- 
 ticians, by dexterous management, laying heavy impofitions 
 on fome goods, or totally prohibiting them, and lowering 
 the duties on others, may always turn and divert the courfe 
 of trade which way they pleaie ; and as they will ever pre- 
 fer, if it be equally considerable, the commerce wJth fuch 
 countries as can pay with money as w 7 ell as goods, to thofe 
 that czn make no returns for what they buy, but in the 
 commodities of their own growth and manufadt ures, lb they 
 will always carefully prevent the trafiic v\ith fuch nations as 
 refufe the goods of others, and will take nothing but money 
 for their own. But, above all, they will keep a watchful eye 
 over the balance of trade in general, and never fufier that all 
 the foreign commodities together, that are imported in one 
 year, fhall -exceed in value what of their own growth or ma- 
 nufacture is in the fame imported to others. Note, That I 
 fpeak now of the interefl >i thofe nations that have no gold 
 or filver of their own .grow th, ptherwife this maxim need not 
 to be fo much miined on. 
 
 If what 1 urged la(t, be but diligently looked after, and 
 the imports are never allowed to be iuperior to the exports, 
 no nation can ever be impoveriihed by foreign luxury ; and 
 they mav improve it as much as they pleafe, if they can 
 but in proportion raife the fund of their own that is to pur- 
 chafe it. 
 
 Trade is the principal, but not the only requifite to ag- 
 grandize a nation : there are other things to be taken care of 
 befides. The mcuni and tuum mult be fecured, crimes pu- 
 nifhed, and all other laws concerning the adminiftration of 
 juftice, wifely contrived, and ftrictly executed. Jb oreign af- 
 
 3 
 
LINE l8c. 6t 
 
 fairs muff be likewife prudently managed, and +he miniffry 
 of every nation ought to have a good intelligence abroad, 
 and be well acquair ed with the public tranfaciions of all 
 thofe countries, that either by their neighbourhood, ffrength^ 
 or intereff, may be hurtful or beneficial to them, to take 
 the neceffary meafures accordingly, of croffing fome, and af- 
 fifting others, as policy, and the balance of power direct. The 
 multitude mull be awed, no man's ccnfcience forced, and 
 the clergy allowed no greater mare in ftate affairs, than our 
 Saviour has bequeathed in histeffament. Thefe are the arts 
 that lead to wordiy greatnefs : W hat fovereign pow r er foever 
 makes a good ufe of them, that has any confiderable nation 
 to govern, v/hether it be a monarchy, a commonwealth, or 
 a mixture of both, can never fail of mckmg it flourim in 
 fpite of all the other powers upon earth, and no luxury, or 
 
 other vice, is ever able to make their confeitution But 
 
 here I expect a full-mouthed cry againff me ; What! has 
 God never punifned and deffroyed great nations for their 
 fins? Yes, but not without means, by infatuating their go- 
 vernors, and iufTering them to depart from either all or 
 fome of thofe general maxims I have mentioned; and of all 
 the famous ftates and empires the world has had to boaft of 
 hitherto, none ever came to ruin, whofe deffruclion w T as not 
 principally owing to the bad politics, neglects, or mifmanage- 
 ments of the rulers. 
 
 There is no doubt, but more health and vigour is expect- 
 ed among the people, and their offspring, from temperance 
 and fobnety, than there is from gluttony and drunkennefs ; 
 yet I confers, that as to luxury's effeminating and enervating-, 
 a nation, 1 have not fuch frightful notions now, as I have had 
 formerly. When w r e hear or read of things which we are al- 
 together ftrangers to, they commonly bring to our imagina- 
 tion fuch ideas of what we have feen, as (according to our 
 apprehenfion) muff come the neareft to them : And I re- 
 member, that when I have read of the luxury of Perfia, 
 Egypt, and other countries where it has been a reigning 
 vice, and that were effeminated and enervated by it, it has 
 fometimes put me in mind of the cramming and fwilling of 
 ordinary trade (men at a city feaft, and the beafflinefs their 
 overgorging themfelves is often attended with; at other 
 times, it has made me think on the diffraction of dhTolute 
 failors, as I had feen them in company of halt a dozen lew r d 
 women, roaring along with riddles before them ; and was I 
 
6l REMARKS; 
 
 to have been carried into any of their great cities, I would 
 have expected to have found one third of the people fick a- 
 bed with furfeits ; another laid up with the gout, or crippled 
 by a more ignominious diilemper ; and the reft, that could 
 go without hading, walk along the ftreets in petticoats. 
 
 It is happy for us to have fear for a keeper, as long as our 
 reafon is not ilrong enough to govern our appetites : And I 
 believe, that the great dread 1 had more particularly againft 
 the word, to enervate, and fome consequent thoughts on the 
 etymology of it, did me abundance of good when I was a 
 fchool boy : But lince I have feen fomething in the world, 
 the confequences of luxury to a nation feem not 10 dreadful 
 to me as they did. As long as men have the fame appetites, 
 the fame vices will remain. In all large focieties, fome will 
 love whoring, and others drinking. The luiTful that can 
 get no handfome clean women, will content themfelves with 
 dirty drabs : and thole that cannot purchafe true Hermitage 
 or Pontack, will be glad of more ordinary French claret. 
 Thofe that cannot reach wine, take up with molt, liquors, 
 and a foot foldier or a beggar may make himfelf as drunk 
 with flale beer or malt fpirits, as a lord with Burgundy, Cham- 
 paign, or Tockay. The cheaper! and mod ilovenly way of 
 indulging our pailions, does as much mifchief to a man's con- 
 ftitution, as the moll elegant and expenfive. 
 
 The greater!: excefies of luxury are fhown in buildings, 
 furniture, equipages, and clothes : Clean linen weakens 
 a man no more than flannel; tapeftry, fine painting, or good 
 wainfcot, are no more unwholeiome than bare walls ; and a 
 rich couch, or a gilt chariot, are no more enervating than the 
 cold floor, or a country cart. The refined pleafures of men 
 of fenfe are feldom injurious to their conititution, and there 
 are many great epicures that will refuie to eat or drink more 
 than their heads or ilomachs can bear. Senlual people may 
 take as great care of themfelves as any : and the errors of 
 the mod vicbuily luxurious, do not fo much coniift in the 
 frequent repetitions of their lewdnefs, and their eating and 
 drinking too much (which are the things which would 
 moil enervate them), as they do in the operofe contrivances, 
 the profufenefs and nicety they are ferved with, and the vait 
 expence they are at in their tables and amours. 
 
 But let us once fuppofe, that the eaie and pleafures, the 
 grandees, and the rich people or' every nation live in, ren 
 them unfit to endure hardfhips, and undergo the tods of 
 3 
 
LINE 1 80. 6 
 
 D 
 
 war. I will allow that moft of the common council of the 
 city would make but very indifferent foot foldiers ; and I 
 believe heartily, that if your horfe was to be compofed of 
 aldermen, and fuch as moft of them are, a fmall artillery of 
 fquibs would be fufficientto route them. But what have the 
 aldermen, the common council, or indeed all people of any 
 fubftance to do w T ith the war, but to pay taxes ? The hard- 
 Ihips and fatigues of war that are perlbnally fullered, fall up- 
 on them that bear the brunt of every thing, the meaneft in- 
 digent part of the nation, the working ftaving people : For 
 how exceffive foever the plenty and luxury of a nation may 
 be, fome body muft do the work, houfes and mips muft be 
 built, merchandifes muft be removed, and the ground tilled. 
 Such a variety of labours in every great nation, require a 
 vafl multitude, in which there are always looie, idle, extra- 
 vagant fellows enough to fpare for an army ; and thofe that 
 *are robuft enough to hedge and ditch, plow and thraih, or 
 / elfe not too much enervated to be fmiths, carpenters, lawyers, 
 cloth-workers, porters or carmen, will always be ftrong and 
 hardy enough in a campaign or two to make good foldiers, 
 wmo, where good orders are kept, have feldom fo much 
 plenty and fuperftuity come to their fhare, as to do them any 
 hurt. 
 
 The mifchief, then, to be feared from luxury among the 
 people of war, cannot extend itfelf beyond the officers. The 
 greateft of them are either men of a very high birth and 
 princely education, or elfe extraordinary parts, and no lefs 
 experience ; and whoever is made choice of by a wife go- 
 vernment to command an army en chef, mould have a con- 
 fummate knowledge in martial affairs, intrepidity to keep 
 him calm in the midft of danger, and many other qualifica- 
 tions that mull be the work of time and application, on men 
 of a quick penetration, a diftinguifhed genius, and a world of 
 honour. Strong fine ws and fupple joints are trifling advantages, 
 not regarded in perfons of their reach and grandeur, that can 
 deflroy cities a- bed, and ruin whole countries while they are 
 at dinner. As they are moil commonly men of great age, it 
 would be ridiculous to expect a hale conftitution and agilitr 
 of limbs from them : So their heads be but active and well 
 furnifhed, it is no great matter what the reft of their bodies 
 are. If they cannot bear the fatigue of being on horfeback, 
 they may ride in coaches, or be carried in litters. Mens 
 conduct and fagacity are never the lefs for their being 
 
64 REMARKS, 
 
 cripples, and the beit general the king of France has flow, 
 can hardly crawl along. Thofe that are immediately under 
 the chief commanders muft be very nigh of the fame abili- 
 ties, and are generally men that have raifed themfelves to 
 thofe poRs by their merit. The other officers are all of them 
 in their feveral ftations obliged to lay out fo large a fhare of 
 their pay in fine clothes, accoutrements, and other things, by 
 the luxury of the times called necefYary, that they can fpare 
 but little money for debauches ; for, as they are advanced, 
 and their faiaries raifed, fo they are likewife forced to increafe 
 their expences and their equipages, which, as well as every 
 thing elfe, muft itill be proportionable to their quality : by 
 which means, the greateit part of them are in a manner hin- 
 dered from thole excelTes that might be deftructive to health ; 
 while their luxury thus turned another w r ay,ferves, moreover, 
 to heighten their pride and vanity, the greateit motives to 
 make them behave themfelves like what they would be 
 thought to be (See Remark on 1. 321) 
 
 There is nothing rehnes mankind more than love and hon- 
 our. Thofe two paflions are equivalent to many virtues, and 
 therefore the greater! fchools of breeding and good manners, 
 are courts and armies ; the firft to accompliih the women, 
 the other to poliih the men. What the generality of officers 
 among civilized nations affect, is a perfect knowledge of the 
 world and the rules ot honour ; an air of franknefs, and hu- 
 manity peculiar to military men of experience, and fuch a 
 mixture of moderty and undauntednefs, as may befpeak them 
 both courteous and valiant. Where good fenfe is fafhion- 
 able, and a genteel behaviour is in efteem, gluttony and 
 drunkennefs can be no reigning vices. What officers of dif- 
 tinction chiefly aim at, is not a beaftly, but a fplendid way of 
 living, and the willies of the moit luxurious, in their feveral de- 
 grees of quality, are to appear handfomely, and excel each 
 other in finery of equipage, politenefs of entertainments, 
 and the reputation of a judicious fancy in every thing about 
 them. 
 
 But if there mould be more diffolute reprobates among 
 officers, than there are among men of other profeffions, which 
 is not true, yet the molt debauched of them may be very fer- 
 viceable, if they have but a great fhare of honour. It is this 
 that covers and makes up for a multitude of defects in them, 
 and it is this that none (how abandoned foever they are to 
 pleafure) dare pretend to be without. But as there is no ar- 
 
LINE l8o. 6$ 
 
 gument fo convincing as matter of fact, let us look back on 
 what fo lately happened in our two laft wars with France/ 
 How many puny young ftriplings have we had in our armies, 
 tenderly educated, nice in their drefs, and curious in their 
 diet, that underwent all manner of duties with gallantry and 
 cheerfulnefs ? 
 
 Thofe that have fuch difmal appreheniions of luxury's en- 
 ervating and effeminating people, might, in Flanders and 
 Spain have {qqi\ embroidered beaux with fine laced fhirts and 
 powdered wigs ftand as much fire, and lead up to the mouth 
 of a cannon, with as little concern as it was poilibie for the 
 nioit ftinking rlovens to have done in their own hair, though 
 it had not been combed in a month, and met with abundance 
 of wild rakes, who had actually impaired their healths, and 
 broke their constitutions with excefTes of wine and women, 
 that yet behaved themfelves with conduct and bravery againft 
 their enemies. Robultnefs is the lead thing required in an 
 officer, and if fometimes ftrength is of ufe, a firm refolution 
 of mind, which the hopes of preferment, emulation, and the 
 love of glory infpire them with, will at a pufn fupply the 
 place of bodily force. 
 
 Thofe that underftand their bufinefs, and have a fufficient 
 fenfe of honour, as foon as they are ufed to danger will al- 
 ways be capable officers : and their luxury, as long as 
 they fpend nobody's money but their own, will never be pre- 
 judicial to a nation. 
 
 By all which, I think, I have proved what I defigned in this 
 remark on luxury. Firft, that in one fenfe every thing may 
 be called fo, and in another there is no fuch thing. Secondly, 
 that with a wife adminiftration all people may fwim in as 
 much foreign luxury as their product can purchafe, without 
 being impoveriffied by it. And, laftly, that where military 
 affairs are taken care of as they ought, and the foldiers well 
 paid and kept in good difcipline, a wealthy nation may live 
 in all the eaie and plenty imaginable ; and in many parts of 
 it, mow as much pomp and delicacy, as human wit can in- 
 vent, and at the fame time be formidable to their neighbours, 
 and come up to the character of the bees in the fable, of 
 which I faid, that 
 
 Flatter'd in peace, and fear'd in wars, 
 They wereth' efteem of foreigners; 
 And laviih of their wealth and lives, 
 The balance of all other hives. 
 
 F 
 
66 REMARKS. 
 
 (See what is farther faid concerning luxury in the Remarks 
 online 182 and 307.) 
 
 Line 182. And odious pride a million more. 
 
 jTride is that natural faculty, by which every mortal that 
 ha s any underftanding over-values, and imagines better 
 things of himfelf than any impartial judge, thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with all his qualities and circumftances, could allow 
 him. We are poffefTed of no other quality fo beneficial to 
 fociety, and fo neceffary to render it wealthy and flourifhing 
 as this, yet it is that which is mod generally detefted. What 
 is very peculiar to this faculty of ours, is, that thofe who are 
 the fulleft of it, are the leaft willing to connive at it in others y 
 whereas the heinoufnefs of other vices is the moil extenuated 
 by thofe who are guilty of them themfelves. The chafte man 
 hates fornication, and drunkennefs is moft abhorred by the tem- 
 perate ; but none are fo much offended at their neighbour's 
 pride, as the proudeft of all ; and if any one can pardon it, 
 it is the moft humble : from which, I think, we may juftly 
 inter, that it being odious to all the world, is a certain lign 
 that all the world is troubled with it. This all men of fenfe 
 are ready to confefs, and nobody denies but that he has 
 pride in general. But, if you come to particulars, you will 
 meet with few that will own any action you can name of 
 theirs to have proceeded from that principle. There are 
 likewife many who will allow, that among the finful nations 
 of the times, pride and luxury are the great promoters of 
 t ;ade, but they refufe to own the neceffity there is, that in a 
 more virtuous age (fuch a one as mould be free from pride), 
 trade would in a great meafure decay. 
 
 The Almighty, they fay, has endowed us with the domi- 
 nion over all things which the earth and fea produce or con- 
 tain ; there is nothing to be found in either, but what was 
 made for the ufe of man ; and his fkill and induftry above 
 other animals were given him, that he might render both 
 them and every thing eife within the reach of his fenfes, 
 more ferviceable to him. Upon this confideration they think 
 it impious to imagine, that humility, temperance, and other 
 virtues fhould debar people from the enjoyment of thofe 
 comforts of life, which are not denied to the moft wicked 
 nations ; and fo conclude, that without pride or luxury, 
 the fame things might be eat, wore, and confumed; the 
 
LINE l82. 67 
 
 fame number of handicrafts and artificers employed, and a 
 nation be every way as flourifhing as where thofe vices are the 
 mod predominant. 
 
 As to wearing apparel in particular, they will tell you, 
 that pride, which flicks much nearer to us than our clothes, 
 is only lodged in the heart, and that rags often conceal a 
 greater portion of it than the mofl pompous attire ; and that 
 as it cannot be denied but that there have always been vir- 
 tuous princes, who, with humble hearts, have wore their 
 fplendid diadems, and fwayed their envied fceptres, void of 
 ambition, for the good of others ; fo it is very probable, that 
 iilver and gold brocades, and the richer! embroideries may, ' 
 without a thought of pride, be wore by many whofe- quality 
 and fortune are fuitable to them. May not (fay they) a 
 good man of extraordinary revenues, make every year a 
 greater variety of fuits than it is p6ffible he fhould wear out, 
 and yet have no other ends than to fet the poor at work, to 
 encourage trade, and by employing many, to promote the 
 welfare of his country ? And conlidering food and raiment to 
 be necefTaries, and the two chief articles to which all our 
 worldly cares are extended, why may not all mankind fet 
 alide a conilderable part of their income for the one as well 
 as the other, without the lead tincture of pride? Nay, is not 
 every member of the fociety in a manner obliged, according 
 to his ability, to contribute toward the maintenance of that 
 branch of trade on which the whole has fo great a depend- 
 ence ? Belides that, to appear decently is a civility, and often 
 a duty, which, without any regard to ourfelves, we owe to 
 thofe we coUverfe with. 
 
 Thefe are the objections generally made ufe of by haughty 
 moralifts, who cannot endure to hear the dignity or their fpe- 
 cies arraigned 5 but if we look narrowly into them, they may 
 foon be anfwered. 
 
 If we had vices, I cannot fee why auy man fhould ever 
 make more fuits than he has occafion for, though he was ne- 
 ver fo defirous of promoting the good of the nation : for, 
 though in the wearing of a well- wrought filk, rather than a 
 flight ftuff, and the preferring curious fine cloth to coarfe, 
 he had no other view but the letting of more people to work, 
 and confequently the public welfare, yet he could confider 
 clothes no otherwife than lovers of their country do taxes 
 now ; they may pay them with alacrity, but nobody gives 
 more than his due ; efpecially where all are juiily rated ac», 
 
 F 2 
 
OO REMARKS. 
 
 cording to their abilities, as it could no otherwife be expect- 
 ed in a very virtuous age. Betides, that in fuch golden times 
 nobody would drefs above his condition, nobody pinch his 
 family, cheat or over reach his neighbour to purchale finery, 
 and confequently there would not be half the confumption, 
 nor a third part of the people employed as now there are. 
 But, to make this more plain, and demonftrate, that for the 
 fupport of trade there can be nothing equivalent to pride, I 
 iliall examine the feveral views men have in outward appa- 
 rel, and let forth what daily experience may teach every 
 body as to drefs. 
 
 Clothes were originally made for two ends, to hide our na- 
 kednefs, and to fence our bodies againic the weather, and 
 other outward injuries : to thefe our boundlefs pride has ad- 
 ded a third, which is ornament ; for what elfe but an excefs 
 of ftupid vanity, could have prevailed upon our reafon to fan- 
 cy that ornamental, which muft continually put us in mind 
 of our wants and mifery, beyond all other animals that are 
 ready clothed by nature herfelf? It is indeed to be admired 
 how fo fenlible a creature as man, that pretends to fo many 
 fine qualities of his own, fhould condefcend to value himfelf 
 upon what is robbed from fo innocent and defencelefs an 
 animal as a fheep, or what he is beholden for to the moit in- 
 fignificant thing upon earth, a dying worm ; yet while he is 
 proud of fuch trifling depredations, he has the folly to laugh 
 at the Hottentots on the furtheft promontory of Afric, who 
 adorn themfelvcs with the guts of their dead enemies, with- 
 out coniidering that they are the enfigns of their valour thofe 
 barbarians are fine with, the true fpolia opima, and that if 
 their pride be more favage than ours, it is certainly lefs ridi- 
 culous, becauie they wear the fpoils of the more noble ani- 
 mal. 
 
 But whatever reflections may be made on this head, the 
 world has long fince decided the matter ; handfome apparel 
 is a main point, fine feathers make fine birds, and people, 
 where they are not known, are generally honoured accord- 
 ing to their clothes and other accoutrements they have 
 about them ; from the richneis of them we judge of their 
 wealth, and by their ordering of them we gueis at their un- 
 deritancling. It is this which encourages every body, who 
 is confcious of his little merit, if he is any ways able to wear 
 clothes above his rank, eipecially in large and populous ci- 
 ties, where obfcure men may hourly meet with fifty (Iran- 
 
LINE l82. . 69 
 
 gers to one acquaintance, and confequently have the plea- 
 fure of being edeemed by a vad majority, not as what they 
 are, but what they appear to be : which is a greater tempta- 
 tion than molt people want to be vain. 
 
 Whoever takes delight in viewing the various fcenes of 
 low life, mav, on Eaiter, Whitiun, and other great holi: 
 meet with fcores of people, efpecially women, of almoft the 
 lowed rank, that wear good and fafliionable clothes : if 
 coming to talk with them, you treat them more courteoufiy 
 and with greater refpeci than what they are confcious they 
 deferve, they will commonly be afhamed of owming what they 
 are; and often you may, if you are a little inquifitive, difcover 
 in them a mod anxious care to conceal the bulinefs they fol- 
 low, and the place they live in. The reafon is plain ; while 
 they receive thofe civilities that are not ufually paid them, 
 and which they think only due to their betters, they have 
 the fatisfaction to imagine, that they appear what they 
 would be, which, to weak minds, is a pleafure almoft as fub- 
 dantial as they could reap from the very accompliihment^ 
 of their wimes : this golden dream they are unwilling to be 
 duturbed in, and being fare that the meannefs of their con- 
 dition, if it is known, mud link them very low in jour 
 opinion, they hug t;hemfelves in their difguife, and take all 
 imaginable precaution not to forfeit, by a ufelefs difcoverv, 
 the eiteem which they flatter themfelves that their good 
 clothes have drawn from you. 
 
 Though every body allows, that as to apparel and manner 
 of living, we ought to behave ourfelves fuitable to our con- 
 dition^, and follow the examples of the mod fenfible, and 
 prudent among our equals in rank and fortune: yet how- 
 few, that are not either miferably covetous, or elie proud of 
 fmgularity, have this discretion to boad of? We all look 
 above ourfelves, and, as fad as we can, drive to imitate thofe 
 that fome way or other are fuperior to us. 
 
 The poored labourer's wife in the parifh, who fcorns to 
 w T ear a drong wholefome frize, as die might, will half ftarve 
 herielf and her hulband to purchafea fecond-hand gown and 
 petncoat, that cannot do her half the fervice ; becaufe, for- 
 footh, it is more genteel. The weaver, the moemaker, the 
 tailor, the barber, and every mean working fellow, that can 
 fet up with little, has the impudence, with the firft money he 
 gets, to drefs himfelf like a tradefman of fubitance : the or- 
 *v retader m the clothing of his wife, takes pattern from 
 F 3 
 
JO REMARKS. 
 
 his neighbour, that deals in the fame commodity by whole- 
 fale, and the reafon he gives for it is, fhat twelve years ago 
 the other had not a bigger fhop than himfelf. The druggiit, 
 mercer, draper, and other creditable fhopkeepers, can find no 
 difference between themfelves and merchants, and therefore 
 drefs and live like them. The merchant's lady, who cannot 
 bear the afTurance of thofe mechanics, flies for refuge to the 
 other end of the town, and fcorns to follow any fafhion but 
 what ihe takes from thence; this haughtinefs alarms the 
 court, the women of quality are frightened to fee merchants 
 wives and daughters dreffed like themfelves : this impudence 
 of the city, they cry, is intolerable ; mantua- makers are lent 
 for, and the contrivance of fafhions becomes all their ftudy, 
 that they may have always new modes ready to take up, as 
 foon as thofe faucy cits fhall begin to imitate thofe in being. 
 The fame emulation is continued through the feveral de- 
 grees of quality, to an incredible expence, till at laft the 
 prince's great favourites and thofe of the firfl rank of all, 
 having nothing left to outflrip fome of their inferiors, are 
 forced to lay out vail eflates in pompous equipages, magni- 
 ficent furniture, fumptuous gardens, and princely palaces. 
 
 To this emulation and continual flriving to out-do one 
 another it is ow T ing, that after fo many various fhiftings and 
 changes of modes, in trumping up new ones, and renewing of 
 old ones, there is itill a plus ultra left for the ingenious ; it is 
 this, or at leaft the confequence of it, that fets the poor to 
 work, adds fpurs to induttry, and encourages the ikilful arti- 
 ficer to fearch after further improvements, 
 
 It may be objected, that many people of good fafhion, 
 who have been uied to be well dreffed, out of cuftom, wear 
 rich clothes with all the indifferency imaginable, and that the 
 benefit to trade accruing from them cannot be aicribed to 
 emulation or pride. To this 1 antwer, that it is impoflible, 
 that thofe who trouble their heads fo little with their drefs, 
 could ever have wore thofe rich clothes, if both the fluffs and 
 fafhions had not been firft invented to gratify the vanity of 
 others, who took greater delight in fine apparel, than they; 
 befides that every body is not without pride that appears to 
 be fo ; all the fymptoms of that vice are not eafily difcover- 
 ed ; they are manifold, and vary according to the age, hu- 
 mour, circumllances, and often conilitution of the people. 
 
 The choleric city captain feems impatient to come to ac- 
 tion, and exprefiing his warlike genius by the firmnefs of his 
 
LINE 182. 71 
 
 lteps, makes his pike, for want of enemies, tremble at the va- 
 kur of his arm : his martial finery, as he marches along, in- 
 fpires him with an unufual elevation of mind, by which, en- 
 deavouring to forget his fhop as well as himfelf, he looks up 
 at the balconies with the fiercenefs of a Saracen conqueror : 
 while the phlegmatic alderman, now become venerable both 
 for his age and his authority, contents himfelf with being 
 thought a considerable man ; and knowing no eafier way to 
 exprefs his vanity, looks big in his coach, where being known 
 by his paultry livery, he receives, in fullen ftate, the homage 
 that is paid him by the meaner fort of people. 
 
 The beardlefs eniign counterfeits a gravity above his years, 
 and with ridiculous aflurance flrives to imitate the ftern coun- 
 tenance of his colonel, flattering himfelf, all the while, that by 
 his daring mien you will judge of his prowefs. The youth- 
 ful fair, in a vail concern of being overlooked, by the con- 
 tinual changing of her pofture, betrays a violent deiire of be- 
 ing obferved, and catching, as it were, at every body's eyes, 
 courts with obliging looks the admiration of her beholders. 
 The conceited coxcomb, on the contrary, difplaying an air 
 of fufficiency, is wholly taken up with the contemplation of 
 his own perfections, and in public places difcovers fuch a dis- 
 regard to others, that the ignorant muft imagine, he thinks 
 himfelf to be alone. 
 
 Thefe, and fuch like, are all manifeft, though different 
 tokens of pride, that are obvious to all the world ; but man's 
 vanity is not always fo foon found out. When we perceive 
 an air of humanity, and men feem not to be employed in ad- 
 miring themielves, nor altogether unmindful of others, we 
 are apt to pronounce them void of pride, when, perhaps, they 
 are only fatigued with gratifying their vanity, and become 
 languid from a fatiety of enjoyments. That outward fhow 
 of peace within, and drowiy compofure of carelefs negli- 
 gence, with which a great man is often feen in his plain cha- 
 riot to loll at eafe, are not always fo free from art, as they 
 may feem to be. Nothing is more raviftiing to the proud, 
 than to be thought happy. 
 
 The well-bred gentleman places his greateft pride in the 
 fkill he has of covering it with dexterity, and lome are fo 
 expert in concealing this frailty, that when they are the moil 
 guilty of it, the vulgar think them the mo ft exempt from it. 
 Thus the diilembling courtier, when he appears in ftate, af- 
 fumes an air of modeftv and good humour j and while he is 
 
 r 4 
 
7 2 REMARKS. 
 
 ready to burffc with vanity, feems to be wholly ignorant of 
 his greatnefs ; well knowing, that thofe -lovely qualities muft 
 heighten him in the efleem of others, and be an addition to 
 that grandeur, which the coronets about his coach and har- 
 iieiTes, with the reft of his equipage, cannot fail to proclaim 
 without his afhftance. 
 
 And as in thefe, pride is overlooked, becaufe induftrioufly 
 concealed, fo in others again, it is denied that they have any, 
 when they fhow (or at lead feem to (how) it in the molt 
 public manner. The wealthy parfon being, as well as the 
 reft of his profeflion, debarred from the gaity of laymen, 
 makes it his buiinefs to look out for an admirable black, and 
 the fined cloth that money can purchafe, and diftinguifhes 
 himfelf by the fullnefs of his noble and fpotlefs garment ; his 
 wigs are as faihionable as that form he is forced to comply 
 with will admit of; but as he is only Hinted m their fhape, 
 fo he takes care that for goodnefs of hair, and colour, few 
 noblemen fhall be able to match him ; his body is ever clean, 
 as well as his clothes, his fleck face is kept conllantly fhaved, 
 and his handfome nails are diligently pared; his fmooth 
 white hand, and a brilliant of the firit water, mutually be- 
 coming, honour each other with double graces ; what linen 
 he difcovers is tranfparently cur ous, and he fcorns ever to 
 be feen abroad with a worie beaver than what a rich banker 
 would be proud of on his wedding-day ; to all thefe niceties 
 in drefs he adds a majeitic gait, and expreffes a command- 
 ing loftinefs in his carnage ; yet common civility, notwith- 
 standing, the evidence of fo many concurring fymptoms, will 
 not allow us to fufpeCt any of his actions to be the refult of 
 pride : conlidering the dignity of his office, it is only decency 
 in him, what would be vanity in others ; and in good man- 
 ners to his calling we ought to believe, that the worthy gen- 
 tleman, without any regard to his reverend perfon, puts him- 
 felf to all this trouble and expence, merely out of a refpect 
 which is due to the divine order he belongs to, and a reli- 
 gious zeal to preierve his holy function from the contempt 
 of fcofFers. With all my heart ; nothing of all this fhall be 
 called pride, let me onlv be allowed to fay, that to our hu- 
 man capacities it looks very like it. 
 
 But if at laft I mould grant, that there are men who en- 
 joy all the fineries of equipage and furniture, as well as 
 clothes, and yet have no pride in them; it is certain, that if 
 all fiiculd be fuch, that emulation I fpoke of before muft 
 
 7 
 
LINE 1 82 J 73 
 
 ceafe, and confequently trade, which has fo great a depend- 
 ence upon it, fuffer in every branch. For to fay, that if all 
 men were truly virtuous, they might, without any regard to 
 themfelves, confume as much out of zeal to ferve their neigh- 
 bours and promote the public good, as they do now out of 
 felf-love and emulation, is a miferable fhift, and an unreafon- 
 able fuppoiition. As there have been good people in all 
 ages, fo, without doubt, we are not deflitute of them in this; 
 but let us inquire of the periwig-makers and tailors, in what 
 gentlemen, even of the greateil wealth and higheil quality, 
 they ever could dilcover fuch public-fpirited views. Afk 
 the lacemen, the mercers, and the linen-drapers, whether the 
 richeft, and if you will, the moil virtuous ladies, if they buy 
 with ready money, or intend to pay in any reafonable time, 
 will not drive from (hop to fhop, to try the market, make as. 
 many words, and Hand as hard with them to fave a groat or 
 fixpence in a yard, as the moll neceffitous jilts in town. If 
 it be urged, that if there are not, it is poffible there might be 
 fuch people ; I anfwer that it is as poffible that cats, inilead 
 of killing rats and mice, fhould feed them, and go about the 
 houle to fuckle aad nurfe their young ones ; or that a kite 
 fhould call the hens to their meat, as the cock does, and fit 
 brooding over their chickens inflead of devouring them ; but 
 if they mould all do fo, they would ceafe to be cats and kites ; 
 it is inconfiftent with their natures, and the fpecies of crea- 
 tures which now we mean, when we name cats and kites, 
 would be extinct as foon as that could come to pafs. 
 
 Line 183. Envy itfelf, and vanity, 
 
 Were minifters of induflry. 
 
 y 
 
 JcLnvy is that bafenefs in our nature, which makes us grieve 
 and pine at what we conceive to be a happinefs in others. I 
 do not believe there is a human creature in his fenfes arrived 
 to maturity, that at one time or other has not been carried 
 away by this paffion in good earner! ; and yet I never met 
 with any one that dared own he was guilty of it, but in 
 jeft. That we are fo generally afhamed of this vice, is owing 
 to that ftrong habit of hypocnfy, by the help of which, we 
 have learned from our cradle to hide even from ourfelves 
 the vail extent of felf-love, and all its different branches. It 
 is impoffible man fhould wifh better for another than he 
 
74 REMARKS. 
 
 dees for himfelf, un!e r s where he fuppofes an impoflibiiity 
 that himfelf ihould attain to thole wiihes ; and from hence 
 we may eaiily learn after what manner this pafiion is railed 
 in us. In order to it, we are to confider firft, that as well 
 as we think of ourfelves, fo ill we think of our neighbour 
 with equal injuftice ; and when we apprehend, that others do 
 or will enjoy what we think they do not deferve, it afflicts 
 and makes lis angry with the caufe of that disturbance. Se- 
 condly, That we are employed in wifhing well for ourfelves, 
 every one according to his judgment and inclinations, and 
 when we obierve fomething we like, and yet are deftitute of, 
 in the poffeilion of others ; it occaiions firft forrow in us for 
 not having the thing we like. This forrow is incurable, while 
 we continue our efteem for the thing we want : but as felf- 
 defence is reftlefs, and never fuffers us to leave any means 
 untried how to remove evil from us, as far and as well as we 
 are able ; experience teaches us, that nothing in nature more 
 alleviates this forrow, than our anger again if thofe who are 
 poffeffed of what we eileem and want. This latter pafiion, 
 therefore, we cheriih and cultivate to fave or relieve our- 
 felves, at lead in part, from the uneafinefs we felt from the 
 firft. 
 
 Envy, then, is a compound of grief and anger ; the de- 
 grees of this paffion depend chiefly on the nearnefs or re- 
 motenefs of the objects, as to circumitances. If one, who 
 is forced to walk on foot envies a great man for keeping a 
 coach and fix, it will never be with that violence, or give 
 him that disturbance \\ hich it may to a man, who keeps a 
 coach himfelf, but can only afford to drive w : Jth four horfes. 
 The fymptoms of envy are as various, and as hard to defcribe, 
 as thofe of the plague ; at fome time it appears in one fliape, 
 at others in another quite different. Among the fair, the 
 difeafe is very common, and the ligns of it very confpicuous 
 in their opinions and cenfures of one another. In beautiful 
 young women, you may often difcover this faculty to a high 
 degree ; they frequently will hate one another mortally at 
 firft fight, from no other principle than envy ; and you may 
 read this fcorn, and unreafonable averfion, in their very coun- 
 tenances, if they have not a great deal of art, and well learn- 
 ed to diffemble. 
 
 In the rude and unpolifhed multitude, this pafiion is very 
 bare-faced; efpecially when they envy others for the goods 
 of fortune : They rail at their betters, rip up their faults, and 
 
LINE 183. 75 
 
 take pains to mifconftrue their moil commendable actions : 
 They murmur at Providence, and loudly complain, that the 
 good things of this world are chiefly enjoyed by thofe who 
 do not deferve them. The groffer fort of them it often af- 
 fects fo violently, that if they were not withheld by the fear 
 of the laws, they would go directly and beat thofe their envy 
 is levelled at, from no other provocation than what that paf- 
 lion fuggefts to them. 
 
 The men of letters, labouring under this diltemper, difco- 
 ver quite different fymptoms. When they envy a perfon 
 for his parts and erudition, their chief care is induftrioufly to 
 conceal their frailty, which generally is attempted by deny- 
 ing and depreciating the good qualities they envy : They 
 carefully perufe his works, and are difpleafed with every fine 
 pafTage they meet with ; they look for nothing but his er- 
 rors, and _wifh for no greater feaft than a grofs miftake : In 
 their cenfures they are captious, as well as fevere, make 
 mountains of mole-hills, and will not pardon the leafl flia- 
 dow of a fault, but exaggerate the moll trifling omiffion into 
 a capital blunder. 
 
 Envy is vifible in brute-beafts ; horfes fhow it in their en- 
 deavours of outftripping one another ; and the bell fpirited 
 will run themfelves to death, before they will fuffer another 
 before them. In dogs, this pailion is likewife plainly to be 
 feen, thofe who are ufed to be carelfed will never tamely 
 bear that felicity in others. I have feen a lap-dog that would 
 choke himfelf with victuals, rather than leave any thing for 
 a competitor of his own kind ; and we may often obferve the 
 fame behaviour in thofe creatures which we daily fee in 
 infants that are froward, and by being over-fondled made 
 humourfome. If out of caprice they at any time refufe to 
 eat what they have alked for, and we can but make them 
 believe that fome body elfe, nay, even the cat or the dog is 
 going to take it from them, they will make an end of their 
 oughts with pleafure, and feed even againfl their appetite. 
 
 If envy was not rivetted in human nature, it would not be 
 fo common in children, and youtii would not be fo generally 
 fpurred on by emulation. Thofe who would derive every 
 thing that is beneficial to the fociety from a good principle, 
 afcnbe ,tfie effects of emulation in fchool-boys to a virtue of 
 the mind ; as it requires labour and pains, fo it is evident, 
 that they commit a felf- denial, who act rrom that difpofition; 
 but if we look narrowly into it, we ihali find, that this facri- 
 
j6 REMARKS. 
 
 flee of eafe and pleafure is onlj made to envy, and the love 
 of glory. If there was not fomething very like this paffioq, 
 mixed with that pretended virtue, it would be impoflible to 
 raife and increafe it by the fame means that create envy. 
 The boy, who receives a reward for the fuperiority of his 
 performance, is confcious of the vexation it would have been 
 to him, if he mould have fallen fhort of it : This reflection 
 makes him exert himfelf, not to be outdone by thofe whom 
 he looks upon as his inferiors, and the greater his pride is, the 
 more felf-denial he will praclife to maintain his conqueft. 
 The other, who, in fpite of the pains he took to do well, has 
 miffed of the prize, is forry, and confequently angry with 
 him whom he muil look upon as the caufe of his grief: But 
 to {how this anger, would be ridiculous, and of no fcrvice to 
 him, fo that he muil either be contented to be lefs efteemed 
 than the other boy ; or, by renewing his endeavours, become 
 a greater proficient : and it is ten to one, but the difintereft- 
 ed, good-humoured, and peaceable lad, will choofe the iirft, 
 and fo become indolent and inactive, while the covetous, 
 peevifh, and quarrelibme rafcal, lhall take incredible pains, 
 and make himfelf a conqueror in his turn. 
 
 Envy, as it is very common among painters, fo it is of 
 great ufe fbr their improvement : 1 do not mean, that little 
 dawbers envy great mailers, but moil of them are tainted 
 with this vice againil thofe immediately above them. If 
 the pupil of a famous artiil is of a bright genius, and un- 
 common application, he rirfl adores his mailer ; but as his 
 own fkill increafes, he begins inienfibly to envy whai ne ad- 
 mired before. To learn the nature of this paffion, and that 
 it confifts in what I have named, we are but to obferve, that, 
 if a painter, by exerting himfelf, comes not only to equal, 
 but to exceed the man he en vied, his forrovv is gone, and all 
 his anger difarmed ; and if he hated him before, he is now 
 glad to be friends with him, if the other will condescend to 
 it. 
 
 Married women, who are guilty of this vice, which few 
 are not, are always endeavouring to raife the fame pailion in 
 their fpoufes ; and where they have prevailed, envy and 
 emulation have kept more men in bounds, and reformed 
 more ill huibands from iloth, from drinking, and other evil 
 courfes, than all the fermons that have been preached fince 
 the time of the Apoilles. 
 
 As every body would be happy, enjoy pleafure, and 
 
LINE 183. 77 
 
 avoid pain, if he could, fo felf-love bids us look on every 
 creature that feems fatisfied, ' as a rival in happinefs ; and the 
 fatisfadion we have in feeing that felicity difturbed, without 
 any advantage to ourfelves, but what fprings from the plea- 
 fure we have in beholding it, is called loving mifchief for 
 mifchicf 's take ; and the motive of which that frailty is the 
 remit, malice, another offspring detived from the fame ori- 
 ginal ; for if there was no envy, there could be no malice. 
 When the paflions lie dormant, we have no apprehenlion of 
 them, and often people think they have not fuch a frailty in 
 their nature, becaufe that moment they are not affected 
 with it. 
 
 A gentleman well dreffed, who happens to be dirtied all 
 over by a coach or a cart, is laughed at, and by his inferiors 
 much more than his equals, becaufe they envy him more: 
 they know he is vexed at it, and, imagining him to be hap- 
 pier than themfelves, they are glad to fee him meet with 
 difpleafures in his turn ! But a young lady, if fhe be in a fe- 
 rious mood, inflead of laughing at, pities him, becaufe a 
 clean man is a light Hie takes delight in, and there is no 
 room for envy. At difafters, we either laugh, or pity thofe 
 that befal them, according to the flock we are pofTefTed of 
 either malice or compailion. If a man falls or hurts himfelf fo 
 flightly, that it moves not the latter, we laugh, and here our 
 pity and malice make us alternately : Indeed, Sir, I am very 
 forry for it, I beg your pardon for laughing, I am the fiilieft 
 creature in the world, then laugh again ; and again, I am 
 indeed very forry, and fo on. Some are fo malicious, they 
 would laugh if a man broke his leg, and others are fo com- 
 panionate, that they can heartily pity a man for the lead 
 fpot in his clothes ; but nobody is fo favage that no compaf- 
 fion can touch him, nor any man fo good-natured, as never 
 to be affected with any malicious pleafure. How ftrangely 
 our paffions govern us ! We envy a man for being rich, and 
 then perfectly hate him : But if we come to be his equals, 
 we are calm, and the leaii condefcenlion in him makes us 
 friends; but if we become vifibly fuperior to him, we can 
 pity his misfortunes. The reafon why men of true good 
 fenfe envy lefs than others, is becaufe they admire them- 
 felves with lefs hefitation than fools and filly people ; for, 
 though they do not mow this to others, yet the folidity of 
 their thinking gives them an afTurance of their real worth. 
 
7§ REMARKS. 
 
 which men of weak understanding can never feel within, 
 though they often counterfeit it. 
 
 The oftracifm of the Greeks was a facriflce of valuable 
 men made to epidemic envy, and often applied as an infal- 
 lible remedy to cure and prevent the mifchiefs of popular 
 fpleen and rancour. A victim of ftate often appeafes the 
 murmurs of a whole nation, and after-ages frequently won- 
 der at barbarities of this nature, which, under the fame cir- 
 cumftances, they would have committed themfelves. They 
 are compliments to the people's malice, which is never bet- 
 ter gratified, than when they can fee a great man humbled. 
 We believe that we love juftice, and to fee merit rewarded; 
 but if men continue long in the firft pofts of honour, half of 
 us grow weary of them, look for their faults, and, if we can 
 find none, we fuppole they hide them, and it is much if the 
 greateft part of us do not wiili them difcarded. This foul 
 play, the belt, of men ought ever to apprehend from all who 
 are not their immediate friends or acquaintance, becaufe no- 
 thing is more tirefome to us, than the repetition of praifes 
 we have no manner of fhare in. 
 
 The more a paflion is a compound of many others, the 
 more difficult it is to define it ; and the more it is torment- 
 ing to thofe that labour under it, the greater cruelty it is 
 capable of infpiring them with againil others : Therefore 
 nothing is more whimficalor mifchievous than jealoufy, which 
 is made up of love, hope, fear, and a great deal of envy : 
 The laft has been fufficiently treated of already ; and what 
 I have to fay of fear, the reader will find under Remark on 
 1. 321. So that 1 he better to explain and illuftrate this odd 
 mixture, the ingredients 1 mail further fpeak of in this place, 
 are hope and love. 
 
 Hoping is wifhing with fome degree of confidence, that 
 the thing wifhed for will come to pafs. The firmnefs and 
 imbecillity of our hope depend entirely on the greater or 
 lefTer degree of our confidence, and all hope includes doubt; 
 for when our confidence is arrived to that height, as to ex- 
 clude all doubts, it becomes a certainty, and we take for 
 granted what we only hoped for before. A fllver inkhorn 
 may pafs in fpeech, becaufe every body knows what we 
 mean by it, but a certain hope cannot : For a man who 
 makes life of an epithet that deltroys the efTence of the fub- 
 itantive he joins it to, can have no meaning at all ; and the 
 more clearly we understand the force of the epithet, and the 
 
 7 
 
LINE 183. 79 
 
 nature of the fubftantive, the more palpable is the nonfenfe 
 of the heterogeneous compound. The reafon, therefore, 
 why it is not fo mocking to fome to hear a man fpeak of cer- 
 tain hope, as if he mould talk of hot ice, or liquid oak, is 
 not becaufe there is lefs nonfenfe contained in the firft, than 
 there is in either of the latter ; but becaufe the word hope, I 
 mean the effence of it, is not fo clearly underftood by the 
 generality of the people, as the words and eiTence of ice and 
 oak are. 
 
 Love, in the firft place, fignifles affection, fuch as parents 
 and nurfes bear to children, and friends to one another ; it 
 confifts in a liking and well-wifhing to the perfon beloved. 
 We give an eafv conftruclion to his words and actions, and 
 feel a pronenefs to excufe and forgive his faults, if we fee 
 any ; his intereft we make on all accounts our own, even to 
 our prejudice, and receive an inward fatisfaction for fympa- 
 thifing with him in his forrows, as well as joys. What I faid 
 laft is not impoflible, whatever it may feem to be ; for, 
 when we are fincere in iharing with one another in his mif- 
 fortunes, felf-love makes us believe, that the fufferings we 
 feel mull alleviate and leffen thofe of our friend ; and while 
 this fond reflection is foothing our pain, a fecret pleafure 
 arifes from our grieving for the perfon we love. 
 
 Secondly, by love we underiiand a ftrong inclination, in 
 its nature diitinct from all other affections of fnendmip, gra- 
 titude, and confanguinity, that perfons of different fexes, 
 after liking, bear to one another: it is in this fignification, that 
 love enters into the compound of jealoufy, and is the effect 
 as well as happy difguife of that paihon that prompts us to 
 labour for the prefervation of our fpecies. This latter appe- 
 tite is innate both in men and women, who are not defective 
 in their formation, as much as hunger or thinl, though they 
 are feldom affected with it before the years of puberty. 
 Could we undrefs nature, and pry into her deepeft receffes, 
 we mould difcover the feeds of this paflion before it exerts 
 itfelf, as plainly as we fee the teeth in an embryo, before 
 the gums are formed. There are few healthy people of either 
 fex, whom it has made no impreilion on before twenty : yet, 
 as the peace and happinefs of the civil fociety require that 
 this mould be kept a fecret, never to be talked of in public; 
 fo, among well-bred people, it is counted highly criminal 
 to mention, before company, any thing in plain words, that 
 is, relating to this myftery bf fucceifion : by which means. 
 
§0 REMARKS. 
 
 the very name of the appetite, though the mofl necefTary for 
 the continance of mankind, is become odious, and the 
 proper epithets commonly joined to luft, are filthy and abo- 
 minable. 
 
 This impulfe of nature in people of Uriel morals, and rigid 
 modefty, often difturbs the body for a coniiderable time be- 
 fore it is underftood or known to be what it is, and it is re- 
 markable, that the moil poliihed, and bed inflrucled, are 
 generally the moil: ignorant as to this affair ; and here I can 
 but obferve the difference between man in the wild itate of 
 nature, and the fame creature in the civil fociety. In the 
 firft, men and women, if left rude and untaught in the fci- 
 ences of modes and manners, would quickly find out the 
 caufe of that difturbance, and be at a lofs no more than other 
 animals for a prefent remedy : befides, that it is not probable 
 they would want either precept or example from the more 
 experienced. But, in the fecond, where the rules of re- 
 ligion, law, and decency, are to be followed, and obeyed, 
 before any dictates of nature, the youth of both iexes are to 
 be armed and fortified againfl this impulfe, and from their 
 infancy artfully frightened from the moll remote approaches 
 of it. The appetite itfelf, and all the fymptoms of it, though 
 they are plainly felt and underftood, are to be flifled with 
 care and ieverity, and, in women, flatly difowned, and if 
 there be occaiion, with obftinacy denied, even when them- 
 felves are affected by them. If it throws them into dif- 
 tempers, they mufl be cured by phyfic, or elfe patiently 
 bear them in filence ; and it is the interefl of the fociety to 
 preierve decency and politenefs ; that women fhould linger, 
 wafte, and die, rather than relieve themfelves in an unlawful 
 manner ; and among the fafhionable part of mankind, the 
 people of birth and fortune, it is expected that matrimony 
 fhould never be entered upon without a curious regard to 
 family, eflate, and reputation, and, in the making of matches, 
 the call of nature be the very lafl confideration. 
 
 Thole, then, who would make love and lull fynonymous, 
 confound the effect with the caufe of it : yet iuch is the 
 force of education, and a habit of thinking, as we are taughtj 
 that fometimes perfons of either fex are actually in love with- 
 out feeling any carnal deiires, or penetrating into the inten- 
 tions of nature, the end propofed by her, without which 
 they could never have been arfecled with that fort of paffion, 
 That there are fuch is certain, but many more whofe pre- 
 
 
likz i.83- 8r 
 
 tences to the." J notions are only upheld by art and 
 
 diffimulati q. Thoie. who are really fuch Platonic 1c 
 are commonly the pale-faced weakly people, of cold and 
 phlegmatic eomtitutions in either lex ; the hale and robuft, 
 of bilious temperament, and a (anguine complexion, never 
 entertain any love fo fpi to exclude all thoughts and 
 
 wifhes that relate to the body; but if the moft feraphic lovers 
 would know the original of their inclination, let them but 
 fuppofe that another mould have the corporal enjoyment of 
 the peribn beloved, and by the tortures they 
 from that reflection they will foon difcover the nature 
 their pillions : whereas, on the contrary, parents and friends 
 receive a iatisractioii in reflecting on the joys and comforts ;f 
 a happy marriage, to be tailed by thoie they wifh well to. 
 The curious, that are {killed in anatomizing the invifible 
 part of man, will obierve that the moi ne and exempt 
 
 this love is from all th ughts of (enfualitj 
 oas it is, and the more it degenerates from its honeft original 
 and primitive {implicit v. The power and fagacity as well 
 as labour and care of the politician in civilizing the iociety, 
 has been no where more confpieuoi] 
 
 contrivance of playing our paffior (I one another. By 
 
 nattering our pride, and ftill increaifcg the a )d : ■;.:.'. : 
 have of ourfelves on the one hand, and infpiring us on the 
 other with a fuperlative dread and mortal averii : 
 ihame, the artful moralifts have taught us cheerfully to en- 
 counter ourfelves, and if not fubdue, at ieaft, fo to cor : 
 and dilguiie our da :. that we fcarce k:. 
 
 it when we meet with it in our breads : Oh ! the mi _ 
 prize we have in view for ail our (elf-denial! can any man 
 be to lerious as to abftain from i .-."hen he c 
 
 that for io much deceit 
 
 s as well as others, we have c )ther recc 
 the vain fatisrhction of making car fpecies ; exalt- 
 
 ed and remote is ; 
 
 and we, in our cor. :o be? yet this is f 
 
 and in it v. 
 
 to render .on we n. 
 
 dilcover the ini ir kind; 
 
 and why tame, mit to the violence of a furious ap- 
 
 petite (which is pair innocently to obey 
 
 molt preffi u:le or hj 
 
 G 
 1 
 
%% REMARKS. 
 
 like other creatures, mould be branded witfi the ignomini- 
 ous name of brutality. . 
 
 What we call love, then, is not a genuine, but an adulte- 
 rated appetite, or rather a compound, a heap of feveral con- 
 tradictory paffions blended in one. As it is a product of 
 nature warped by cuftora and education, fo the true origin 
 and firft motive of it, as I have hinted already, is ftifled in 
 well-bred people, and concealed from themfelves : all which 
 is the reafon, that, as thofe affected with it, vary in age, 
 firength, refolution, temper, circumftances, and manners, 
 the effects of it are fo different, whimfical, furprifing, and 
 unaccountable. 
 
 It is this paffion that makes jealoufy fo troublefome, and 
 the envy of it often fo fatal : thofe who imagine that there 
 may be jealoufy without love, do not underftand that paffion. 
 Men may not have the lead affection for their wives, and 
 yet be angry with them for their conduct, and fufpicious of 
 them either with or without a caufe : but what in fuch cafes 
 affects them is their pride, the concern for their reputation. 
 They feel a hatred againit them without remorfe ; when they 
 are outrageous, they can beat them and go to lleep content- 
 edly : fuch hufbands may watch their dames themfelves, 
 and have them, obferved by others ; but their vigilance is 
 not fo intenfe ; they are not fo inquifitive or induftrious in 
 their fearches, neither do they feel that anxiety of heart at 
 the fear of a difcovery, as when love is mixed with the 
 paffions. 
 
 What confirms me in this opinion is, that we never ob- 
 ferve this behaviour between a man and his miftrefs ; for 
 when his love is gone and he fufpects her to be falfe, he 
 leaves her, and troubles his head no more about her : where- 
 as, it is the greater! difficulty imaginable, even to a man of 
 fenfe, to part with his miftrefs as long as he loves her, what- 
 ever faults flie may be guilty of. If in his anger he ftrikes 
 her, he is uneafy after it ; his love makes him reflect on the 
 hurt he has done her, and he wants to be reconciled to her 
 again. He may talk of hating her, and many times from his 
 heart wifh her hanged, but if he cannot get entirely rid of 
 his frailty, he can never difentangle himfelf from her : though 
 flie is reprefented in the moil monitrous guilt to his imagina- 
 tion, and he has refolved and fwore a thoufand times never 
 to come near her again, there is no milling him, even 
 when he is fully convinced of her infidelity, if his love con- 
 
LINE I83 & 200," 83 
 
 tlnues, his defpair is never fo lading, but between the blacked 
 fits of it he relents, and finds lucid intervals of hope ; he 
 forms excufes for her, thinks of pardoning, and in order to 
 it racks his invention for poffibilities that may ma ke her ap- 
 pear lefs criminal. 
 
 Line 200. Real pleafures, comforts, eafe, 
 
 That the higheft good confifted in pleafure, was the doc- 
 trine of Epicurus, who yet led a life exemplary for connn- 
 nence, fobriety, and other virtues, which made people of the 
 fucceeding ages quarrel about the lignification of pleafure. 
 Thofe who argued from the temperance of the philofopher, 
 faid, That the delight Epicurus meant, was being virtuous ; 
 fo Erafmus in his Colloquies tells us, that there are no greater 
 Epicures than pious Chriitians. Others that reflected on the 
 diflblute manners of the greater! part of his followers, would 
 have it, that by pleafures he could have underilood nothing 
 but fenfual ones, and the gratification of our paffions. I 
 fhall not decide their quarrel, but am of opinion, that 
 whether men be good or bad, what they take delight in is 
 their pleafure ; and not to look out for any further etymolo- 
 gy from the learned languages, I believe an Englishman 
 may juftly call every thing a pleafure that pleafes him, and 
 according to this definition, we ought to difpute no more 
 about men's pleafures than their talles : Trahit fua quemque 
 voluptas. 
 
 The worldly-minded, voluptuous, and ambitious man, not* 
 withstanding he is void of merit, covets precedence every 
 where, and defires to be dignified above his betters : he aims 
 at fpacious palaces, and delicious gardens ; his chief delight 
 is in excelling others in ftately horfes, magnificent coaches, a 
 numerous attendance, and dear-bought furniture. To gra- 
 tify his luft, he wifhes for genteel, young, beautiful women of 
 different charms and complexions, that fhall adore his great- 
 nefs, and be really in love with his perfon : his cellars he 
 would have ftored with the flower of every country that pro- 
 duces excellent wines : his tables he defires may be ferved 
 with many courfes, and each of them contain a choice variety 
 of dainties not eafily purchafed, and ample evidences of ela- 
 borate and judicious cookery ; while harmonious rnufic, and 
 well- couched flattery, entertain his hearing bv turns. He em- 
 G 2 
 
84 REMARKS. 
 
 ploys even in the meaneft trifles, none but the ableft and moft 
 ingenious workmen, that his judgment and fancy may as evi- 
 dently appear in the leait things that belong to him as his 
 wealth and quality are manifefted in thoie of greater value. 
 He delires to have feveral fets of witty, facetious, and polite 
 people to converfe with, and among them he would have fome 
 famous for learning and univerfal knowledge : for his ferious 
 affairs, he wifhes to find men of parts and experience, that 
 fhould be diligent and faithful. Thofe that are to wait on 
 him he would have handy, mannerly, and difcreet, of comely 
 afpect, and a graceful mien : what he requires in them be- 
 iides, is a refpeclful care of every thing that is his, nimble - 
 nefs without hurry, difpatch without noife, and an unlimited 
 obedience to his orders : nothing he thinks more troubleforr\e 
 than fpeaking to fervants ; wherefore he will only be attend- 
 ed by fuch, as by obferving his looks have learned to inter- 
 pret his will from the ilighteft motions. He loves to fee an 
 elegant nicety in every thing that approaches him, and in 
 what is to be employed about-his perfon, he delires a fuper- 
 lative cleanlinefs to be religiouily obferved. The chief of- 
 ficers of his houfehold he would have to be men of birth, ho- 
 nour and difti notion, as well as order, contrivance, and eco- 
 nomy ; for though he loves to be honoured by every body, 
 and receives the refpects of the common people with joy, yet 
 the homage that is paid him by perfons of quality is ravifli- 
 ing to him in a more tranfcendant manner. 
 
 While thus wallowing in a fea of lull and vanity, he is 
 wholly employed in provoking and indulging his appetites, 
 he delires the world ihould think him altogether free from 
 pride and fenfuality, and put a favourable conltruclion upon 
 his moft glaring vices : nay, if his authority can purchafe it, 
 he covets to be thought wife, brave, generous, good-natured, 
 and endued with the virtues he thinks worth having. He 
 would have us believe that the pomp and luxury he is ferved 
 with are as many tirefome plagues to him ; and all the gran- 
 deur he appears in is an ungrateful burden, which, to his for- 
 row, is inieparable from the high fphere he moves in ; that 
 his noble mind, fo much exalted above vulgar capacities, 
 aims at higher ends, and cannot reliih fuch worthlefs enjoy- 
 ments ; that the higher! of his ambition is to promote the 
 public welfare, and his greateft pleafure to fee his country 
 ilourifh, and every body in it made happy. Thefe are called 
 real pleafure? by the vicious and earthly-minded, and who- 
 
 
LINE 200. 85 
 
 ever is able, either by his fkill or fortune, after this refined 
 manner at once to enjoy the world, and the good opinion of 
 it, is counted extremely happy by all the moil fafhionable 
 part of the people. 
 
 But, on the other fide, moll of the ancient philofophers 
 and grave moralifls, efpecially the Stoics, would not allow 
 any thing to be a real good that w r as liable to be taken from 
 them by others. They wifely confidered the inflabiiity of 
 fortune, and the favour of princes ; the vanity of honour, 
 and popular applaufe ; the precarioufnefs of riches, and all 
 earthly polfefiions ; and therefore placed true happinefs in 
 the calm ferenity of a contented mind, free from guilt and 
 ambition ; a mind that, having fubdued every fenfual appe- 
 tite, defpifes the fmiles as well as frowns cf fortune, and 
 taking no delight but in contemplation, defires nothing but 
 what every body is able to give to himfelf : a mind that, 
 armed with fortitude and refolution, has learned to fuftain the 
 greatefl loifes without concern, to endure pain without af- 
 fliction, and to bear injuries without refentment. Many have 
 owned themfelves arrived to this height of felf-denial, and 
 then, if we may believe them, they were raifed above com- 
 mon mortals, and their flrength extended vaftly beyond the 
 pitch of their firft nature : they could behold the anger of 
 threatening tyrants and the molt imminent dangers without 
 terror, and preferred their tranquillity in the midft of tor- 
 ments : death itfelf they could meet with intrepidity, and 
 left the world with no greater reluctance than they had 
 mowed fondnefs at their entrance into it. 
 
 Thefe among the ancients have always bore the greatefl 
 fway ; yet others that were no fools neither, have exploded 
 thofe precepts as impracticable, called their notions roman- 
 tic, and endeavoured to prove, that what thefe Stoics afferted 
 of themfelves, exceeded all human force and poflibility ; and 
 that therefore the virtues they boafled of could be nothing 
 but haughty pretence, full of arrogance and hypocrify ; ytt 
 notwithstanding thefe cenfures, the ferious part of the world, 
 and the generality of wife men that have lived ever fince to 
 this day, agree with the Stoics in the mofl material points ; 
 as that there can be no true felicity in what depends on 
 things perifhable ; that peace within is the greatefl bleffing, 
 and no conqueft like that of our paffions ; that knowledge, 
 temperance, fortitude, humility, and other embeilifhments 
 of the mind are the mofl valuable acquifitions 3 that no man 
 
 G 3 
 
36 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 can be happy but he that is good : and that the virtuous are 
 only capable of enjoying real pleafures. 
 
 1 expect to be afked, why in the fable I have called thofe 
 pleafures real, that are directly oppofite to thofe which I own 
 the wife men of all ages have extolled as the moft valuable ? 
 My anfwer is, becaufe I do not call things pleafures which 
 men fay are ber>, but fuch as they feem to be molt pleafed 
 with ; how can I believe that a mans chief delight is in the 
 embeliiihment of the mind, when 1 fee him ever employ- 
 ed about, and daily purfue the pleafures that are contrary to 
 them ? John never cuts any pudding, but juft enough that 
 you cannot fay he took none : this little bit, after much 
 chomping and chewing, you fee goes down with him like 
 chopped hay ; after that he falls upon the beef with a vera- 
 cious appetite, and crams himfelf up to his throat. Is it not 
 provoking, to hear John cry every day that pudding is all 
 his delight, and that he does not value the beef of a farthing. 
 
 1 could fwagger about fortitude and the contempt of 
 riches as much as Seneca himfelf, and would undertake to 
 write twice as much in behalf of poverty as ever he did ; for 
 the tenth part of his eftate, I could teach the way to his fum- 
 mum bonuvi as exactly as 1 know my way home : I could tell 
 people to extricate themfelves from all worldly engagements, 
 ana to purify the mind, they mult divelt themfelves of their 
 paiiions, as men take out the furniture when they would 
 clean a room thoroughly ; and I am clearly of the opinion, 
 that the malice and molt fevere ltrokes of fortune, can do no 
 moie injury to a mind thus itripped of all fears, willies, and 
 inclinations, than a blind horle can do in an empty barn. 
 In the theory of all this 1 am very perfect:, but the practice is 
 very difficult ; and if you went about picking my pocket, 
 offered to take the victuals from before me w en 1 am 
 hungry, or made but the leait motion of fpitting in my face, 
 1 dare not promife how philofophically 1 ihould behave my- 
 felf. But that I am forced to fubmit to every caprice of my 
 unruly nature, you will lay, is no argument, that others are 
 as little matters of theirs, and therefore, 1 am willing to pay 
 adoration to virtue wherever 1 can meet with it, with a pro- 
 vifo that I fhal] not be obliged to admit any as fuch, where I 
 can fee no icir-denial, or to judge of mens fentiments from 
 their words, where 1 have their lives before me. 
 
 1 have fearched. through every degree and Itation of men, 
 and confels, mat i have found no where more auitenty of 
 
L1XE 200. 87 
 
 maimers, or greater contempt of earthly pleasures, than in 
 
 fome religious homes, where people freely re i 
 
 :; from the world to combat the nave no other 
 
 bufinefs but fubdue their appetites. What can be a greater 
 evidence of perfect chaftity, and 2 love, to in 
 
 culate purity in men and women, than that in the prime of 
 their age. when iuft is mofl raging, they ihouid actually fe- 
 clude themfelves from each other: : : mpany . and by a vo- 
 luntary renunciation debar tbemfel res for life, not onlv i 
 uncleannefs, but even the morl 1 -.braces? thofe that 
 
 and often all manner of food, one w 
 think in the right way, to conquer all carnal d *fires : and I 
 could aim oil fwear, that he does not confult who 
 
 - mauls his bare back and ilioulders w a able 
 
 {tripes, and conftantly roufed at 1 \ >rn his fleep, leaves 
 
 his bed for his devotion. Who can defj : s more, or 
 
 fhow himielf leis avaricious than he. who will not ij much 
 as touch gold or Giver, no not with Or can any 
 
 mortal fhow hirnlelf lefs luxurious or m( than the 
 
 man, that making poverty his choice, contents himfeif 
 fcraps and fragments, and refufes to eat any bread but what 
 is bellowed upon him by the charity of otfc 
 
 Such fair inftances of felf-denial, would m 
 down to virtue, if I was not deterred and from it by 
 
 ib many perfons of eminence and learning, who onanim 
 ly tell me that I am rniilaken, and all I have teen is farce and 
 hypocriiy ; that what feraphic love they may pretend to, 
 there is nothing but difcord among them ; and that how pe- 
 nitential the nuns and friars may appear in their feveral con- 
 vents, they- none of them facririce their darling lulls : 
 among the women, they are not all virgins that pais for men, 
 and that if I was to be let into their fecrets. and examine 
 iome of their fubterraneous privacies, I mould foon be con- 
 vinced by fcenes of horror, that fome of them nmft . 
 been mothers. That among the men I (hould find call m- 
 ny, envy, and ill nature, in the higher! degree, cr eke glutto- 
 ny, drunkennefs. and impurities of a m 
 adultery a a as for the n 
 
 fer in nothing ir habits from other rlurdy beg 
 
 nve people with a pitiful tone, and an our 
 
 are out of right, lie 
 
 ir cant, indulge their apj ear. 
 
 If the ft a and 10 many on: is or devotion 
 
 G 4 
 
85 REMARKS. 
 
 obferved among thofe religjaus orders, deferve fuch barfh 
 cenfures, we may well deipair of meeting with virtue any- 
 where elfe ; for if w 7 e look into the actions of the antagonifts 
 and greateft accufers of thofe votaries, we fhall not find lb 
 much as the appearance of lelf- denial. The reverend 
 of all feels, even of the moft reformed chinches in all c 
 tries, take care with the Cyclops Evang it 
 
 ventri benefit, and afterwards, ne quid i ■' it qua fub re 
 
 funt. To thefe they will defire you to add convenient hoti 5; 
 handfome furniture, good fires in winter, • arde 
 
 fummer, neat clothes, and money enough to bring up 
 children ; precedency in all companies, refpect from e 1 sy 
 body, and then as much religion as you pleaie. The things 
 I have named are the neceflary comforts of life, which the 
 mod modeft are not afhamed to claim, and which they are 
 very uneafy without. They are, it is true, made of the lame 
 mould, and have the fame corrupt nature with other men, 
 born with the fame infirmities, fubject to the fame paffions, 
 and liable to the fame temptations, and therefore if they 
 are ddigent in their calling, and can out abftain from murder, 
 adultry, f\\ earing, drunkennets, and other heinous vices, their 
 lives are all called unblemifhed, and their reputations un- 
 fpotted ; their function renders them holy, and the gratifica- 
 tion of lo many carnal appetites, and the enjoyment of fo 
 much luxurious eafe notwithstanding, they may let upon 
 themielves what value their pride and parts will allow them. 
 • All this I have nothing againft, but I fee no felf-denial, 
 without which there can be no virtue. Is it fuch a mortifi- 
 cation not to defire a greater ihare of worldly bleffings, than 
 what every reasonable man ought to be tatisfied with ? Or, is 
 there any mighty merit in not being flagitious, and forbear- 
 ing indecencies that are repugnant to good manners, and 
 which no prudent man would be guilty of, though he had 
 no religion at all ? 
 
 I know I fhall be told, that the reafon why the clergy are 
 fo violent in their relentments, when at any time they are 
 but in the lead affronted, and mow themfelves fo void of all 
 patience when their rights are invaded, is their great care to 
 preferve their calling, their profeffion from contempt, not for 
 their own fakes, but to be more ferviceable to others. It is 
 the fame reafon that makes them folicitous about the com- 
 forts and conveniences of life ; for ihould they fuller them-* 
 felves to be infuked over, be content with a coarfer diet, and 
 
LINE 2C0. 89 
 
 wear more ordinary clothes than other people, the multitude, 
 who judge from outward appearances, would be apt to think 
 that the clergy was no more the immediate care of Provi- 
 dence than other folks, and fo not only undervalue their per- 
 fons, but defpife likewife all the reproofs and inftructions that 
 came from them. This is an admirable plea, and as it is 
 much made ufe of, I will try the worth of it. 
 
 I am not of the learned Dr. Echard's opinion, that pover- 
 ty is one of thofe things that bring the clergy into contempt, 
 any further than as it may be an occafion of difcovering their 
 blind fide : for when men are always ftruggling with their 
 low condition, and are unable to bear the burden of it with- 
 out reluclancy, it is then they mow how uneafy their poverty 
 fits upon them, how glad they would be to have their circum- 
 ilances meliorated, and what a real value they have for the 
 good things of this world. He that harangues on the con- 
 tempt of riches, and the vanity of earthly enjoyments, in a 
 rufty threadbare gown, becaufe he has no other, and would 
 wear his old greafy hat no longer if any body would give him 
 a better; that drinks fmall beer at home with a heavy coun- 
 tenance, but leaps at a glafs of wine if he can catch it abroad; 
 that with little appetite feeds upon his own coarie mefs, but 
 falls to greedily where he can pleaie his palate, and expreffes 
 an uncommon joy at an invitation to a fplendid dinner : it is 
 he that is defpiied, not becaufe he is poor, but becaufe he 
 knows not how to be fo, with that content and refignation 
 which he preaches to others, and fo difcovers his inclinations 
 to be contrary to his doctrine. But, when a man from the 
 greatnefs of his foul (or an obilinate vanity, which will do as 
 well) relblving to fubdue his appetites in good earneit, re- 
 fufes all the orfers of eafe and luxury that can be made to 
 him, arid embracing a voluntary poverty with cheerfulnefs, 
 rejects whatever may gratify the fenfes, and actually facri- 
 fices all his paffions to his pride, in acting this part, the vul- 
 gar, far from contemning, will be ready to deify and adore 
 him. How famous have the Cynic philofophers made them- 
 felves, only by refuting to diffimulate and make ufe of fuper- 
 fluities ? Did not the molt ambitious monarch the world ever 
 bore, condefcend to viflt Diogenes in his tub, and return to 
 a ftudied incivility, the highert compliment a man of his 
 pride was able to make ? 
 
 Mankind are very willing to take one anothers word, when 
 they fee ibme circumitances that corroborate what is told 
 
gO REMARKS. 
 
 them; but when our actions directly contradict what we 
 fay, it is counted impudence to defire belief. If a jolly hale 
 fellow, with glowing cheeks and warm hands, newly return- 
 ed from fome fmart exercife, or elfe the cold bath, tells us 
 in froily w 7 eather, that he cares not for the fire, we are eafily 
 induced to believe him, efpecially if he actually turns from 
 it, and we know by his circumftances, that he wants neither 
 fuel nor clothes : but if we iliould hear the fame from the 
 mouth of a poor ftarved wretch, with fwelled hands, and a 
 livid countenance, in a thin ragged garment, we iliould not 
 believe a word of what he faid, efpecially if we faw him 
 iliaking and ihivering, creep toward the funny bank ; and 
 we would conclude, let him fay what he could, that warm 
 clothes, and a good fire, would be very acceptable to him. 
 The application is eafy, and therefore if there be any clergy 
 upon earth that w 7 ould be thought not to care for the world, 
 and to value the foul above the body, let them only forbear 
 mowing a greater concern for their fenfual pleafures than 
 they generally do for their fpiritual ones, and they may reft 
 fatisfied, that no poverty, while they bear it with fortitude, 
 will ever bring them into contempt, how mean foever their 
 circumftances may be. 
 
 Let us fuppofe a paftor that has a little flock intruded to 
 him, ofw r hich he is very careful: He preaches, vifits, ex- 
 horts, reproves among his people with zeal and prudence, 
 and does them all the kind offices that lie in his power to 
 make them happy. There is no doubt but thofe under his 
 care muft be very much obliged to him. Now, we fhall 
 fuppofe once more, that this good man, by the help of a 
 little felf-denial, is contented to live upon half his income, 
 accepting only of twenty pounds a-year inftead of forty, 
 which he could claim ; and moreover, that he loves his pa- 
 rifhioners fo well, that he will never leave them for any pre- 
 ferment whatever, no not a bifhoprick, though it be offer- 
 ed. I cannot fee but all this might be an eafy talk to a 
 man who profeftes mortification, and has no value for world- 
 ly pleafures ; yet fuch a diiinterefted divine, I dare promife, 
 notwithstanding the degeneracy of mankind, will be loved, 
 efleemed, and have every body's good word ; nay, I would 
 fwear, that though he mould yet further exert himfelf, give 
 above half of his fmall revenue to the poor, live upon no- 
 thing but oatmeal and water, lie upon ftraw, and wear the 
 coarieft cloth that could be made, his mean way of living 
 
LINE 20O. C;I 
 
 would never be reflected on, or be a difparagement either 
 to himfeif or the order he belonged to ; but that on the con- 
 trary his poverty would never be mentioned but to his glory, 
 as long as his memory mould laft. 
 
 But (fays a charitable young gentlewoman) though you 
 have the heart to ftarve your parfon, have you no bowels of 
 companion for his wife and children ? pray what muft re- 
 main of forty pounds a year, after it has been twice fo un- 
 mercifully fplit ? or would you have the poor woman and 
 the innocent babes likewife live upon oatmeal and water, 
 and lie upon ftraw, you unconfcionable wretch, with all 
 your fuppoiitions and felf-denials ; nay, is it poffible, though 
 they mould all live at your own murdering rate, that lefs 
 
 than ten pounds a- year could maintain a family? Do not 
 
 be in a paffion, good Mrs. Abigail, I have a greater regard 
 for your fex than to prefcribe fuch a lean diet to married 
 men ; but \ confefs I forgot the wives and children : The 
 main reafon was, becaufe 1 thought poor priefts could have 
 no occafion for them. Who could imagine, that the parfon 
 who is to teach others by example as well as precept, was 
 not able to withftand thole defires which the wicked world 
 itfelf calls unreafonable? What is the reafon when an appren- 
 tice marries before he is out of his time, that unlefs he meets 
 with a good fortune, all his relations are angry with him, 
 and every body blames him ? Nothing elfe, but becaufe at 
 that time he has no money at his difpofal, and being bound 
 to his matter's fervice, has no leifure, and perhaps little capa- 
 city to provide for a family. What muft we fay to a parfon 
 that has twenty, or, if you will, forty pounds a-year, that 
 being bound more ftridtly to all the fervices a parifh and his 
 duty require, has little time, and generally much lefs ability 
 to get any more ? Is it not very reasonable he mould mar- 
 ry ? But why mould a fober young man, who is guil- 
 ty of no vice, be debarred from lawful enjoyments ? 
 Right; marriage is lawful, and fo is a coach; but what is that 
 to people that have not money enough to keep one ? 
 If he muft have a wife, let him look out for money, 
 or wait for a greater benefice, or fomething elfe to maintain 
 her handforneiy, and bear all incident charges. But no- 
 body that has any thing herfelf will have him, and he cannot 
 fray : He has a very good ftomach, and all the fymptoms of 
 health ; it is not every body that can live without a woman ; 
 it is better to marry than burn. What a world of felf-de- 
 
9 2 REMARKS. 
 
 nialishere? The fob er young man is very willing to be 
 virtuous, but you muft not cf ofs his dons; he pro- 
 
 miles never to be a deer-itealer, upon condition that he mall 
 have venifon of his own, and no body mult doubt, but that 
 if it come to the pufh, he is qualified to iuffer martyrdom, 
 though he owns that he has not ftrength enough, patiently 
 to bear a fcratched finger. 
 
 When we fee fo many of the clergy, to indulge their lull, 
 abrutifh appetite ; run themfelves after this manner upon an 
 inevitable poverty, which, unlets they could bear it with 
 greater fortitude, than they difcover in all their actions, mult 
 of neceility make them contemptible to all the world, what 
 credit mull we give them, when they pretend that they 
 conform themfelves to the world, not becauie they take 
 delight in the feveral decencies, conveniences, and orna- 
 ments of it, but only to preferve their function from 
 contempt, in order to be more ufeful to others ?. Have we 
 not reafon to believe, that what they fay is full of hypccrify 
 and falfehood, and that concupifcence is not the only appe- 
 tite they want to gratify ; that the haughty airs and quick 
 fenfe of injuries, the curious elegance in drels, and nicenefs 
 of palate, to be obferved in nioft of them that are able to 
 mow them, are the refults of pride and luxury in them, as 
 they are in other people, and that the clergy are not poifef- 
 fed of more intrinfic virtue than any other prcfeflion ? 
 
 I am afraid, by this time I have given many of my readers 
 a real difpleafure, by dwelling fo long upon the reality of 
 pleafure ; but I cannot help it, there is one thing comes in- 
 to my head to corroborate what I have urged already, which 
 I cannot forbear mentioning : It is this : Thole who govern 
 others throughout the world, are atleaft as wife as the people 
 that are governed by them, generally fpeaking : If, for this 
 reafon, we would take pattern from our fupenors, we have 
 but to call our eyes on all the courts and governments in 
 the univerfe, and we ihail foon perceive from the actions of 
 the great ones, which opinion they lide with, and what 
 pleafures thofe in the highell ftations of all leem to be molt 
 fond of: For, if it be allowable at all to judge of people's in- 
 clinations, from their manner of living, none can be lefs in- 
 jured by it, than thofe who are the mofl at liberty to do as 
 they pleafe. 
 
 If the great ones of the clergy, as well as the laity of any 
 country whatever, had no value for earthly pleafures, and 
 did not endeavour to gratify their appetites, why are Qn\y 
 
LINE 20O. 93 
 
 and revenge fo raging among them, and all the other paf- 
 fions improved and refined upon in courts of princes more 
 than any where elfe, and why are their repafts, their recre- 
 ations, and whole manner of living always fuch as are ap- 
 proved of, coveted, and imitated by the moft fenfual people 
 of that fame country ? If defpifing all vifible decorations 
 they were only in love with the embellifhments of the mind, 
 why fhouid they borrow fo many of the implements, and 
 make ufe of the moft darling toys of the luxurious ? Why 
 fhouid a lord treafurer, or a bifhop, or even the grand fignior, 
 or the pope of Rome, to be good and virtuous, and endea- 
 vour the conqueft of his paffions, have occafion for greater 
 revenues, richer furniture, or a more numerous attention, as 
 to perfonal lervice, than a private man ? What virtue is it 
 the exercife of which requires fo much pomp and fuperfluity, 
 as are to be feen by all men in power ? A man has as much 
 opportunity to pracfrfe temperance, that has but one difh at 
 a meal, as he that is conflantly ferved with three courfes, 
 and a dozen difhes in each : One may exercife as much pa- 
 tience, and be as full of felf- denial on a few flocks, without 
 curtains or teller, as in a velvet bed that is fixteen foot high. 
 The virtuous pofTeilions of the mind are neither charge nor 
 burden : A man may bear misfortunes with fortitude in a 
 garret, forgive injuries a- foot, and be chafte, though he has 
 not a fhirt to his back : and therefore I fhall never believe, 
 but that an indifferent fculler, if he was intruded with it, 
 might carry all the learning and religion that one man can 
 contain, as well as a barge with fix oars, efpecially if it was 
 but to crofs from Lambeth to Weilminfter ; or that humi- 
 lity is fo ponderous a virtue, that it requires fix horfes ta 
 draw it. 
 
 To fay that men not being fo eafily governed by their 
 equals as by their fuperiors, it is neceiiary, that to keep 
 the multitude m awe, thofe who rule over us fhouid ex- 
 cel others in outward appearance, and confequently, that 
 all in high (rations mould have badges of honour, and en- 
 figns of power to be diitinguifhed from the vulgar, is a fri- 
 volous objection. This, in the firft place, can only be 
 of ufe to poor princes, and weak and precarious governments, 
 that being actually unable to maintain the public peace, are 
 obliged with a pageant fhow to make up what they 
 want in real power : fo the governor of Batavia, in the 
 Eaft Indies, is forced to keep up a grandeur, and live in a 
 magnificence above his quality, to ftrike a terror in the na- 
 
94 REMARKS. 
 
 lives of Java, who, if they had fkill and conduct, are ftrong 
 enough to deftroy ten times the number of their mafters ; 
 but great princes and ftates that keep large fleets at fea, and 
 numerous armies in the field, have no occafion for fuch ftra- 
 tagems ; for what makes them formidable abroad, will never 
 fail to be their iecurity at home. Secondly, what muft protect 
 the lives and wealth of people from the attempts of wicked 
 men in all focieties, is the feverity of the laws, and diligent ad- 
 miniftration of impartial juftice. Theft, houfe-breaking, and 
 murder, are not to be prevented by the fcarlet gowns of the al- 
 dermen, the gold chains of the fheriffs, the fine trappings of the 
 ir horfes,or any gaudy fhow whatever : Thofe pageant orna- 
 ments are beneficial another way ; they are eloquent lectures 
 to apprentices, and the ufe of them is to animate, not to de- 
 ter : but men of abandoned principles muft be awed by rug 
 ged officers, ftrong prifons, watchful jailors, the hangman, 
 and the gallows. If London was to be one week deftiutte 
 of conftables and watchmen to guard the houfes a-nights, 
 half the bankers would be ruined in that time, and if my 
 lord mayor had nothing to defend himfeif but his great two 
 handed fword, the huge cap of maintenance, and his gilded 
 mace, he would foon be ftripped, in the very ftreets to the 
 city, of all his finery in his (lately coach. 
 
 But let us grant that the eyes of the mobility are to be 
 dazzled with a gaudy outride ; if virtue was the chief delight 
 of great men, why lhould their extravagance be extended 
 to things not underftood by the mob, and wholly removed 
 from public view, I mean their private diversions, the pomp 
 and luxury of the dining-room and the bed-chamber, and 
 the curiofities of the cloiet ? few of the vulgar know that 
 there is wine of a guinea the bottle, that birds, no bigger 
 than larks, are often fold for half- a- guinea a piece, or that a 
 fingle picture may be worth ieveral thouiand pounds : be- 
 fides, is it to be imagined, that unleis it was to pleafe their 
 own appetites, men lhould put themfelves to fuch vaft ex- 
 pences for a political fhow, and be fo folicitous to gain the 
 efteem of thofe whom they fo much defpife in every thing 
 elfe ? if we allow that the fplendor and ail the elegancy of 
 a«court infipid, and only tirefome to the prince himfeif, and 
 are altogether made ufe of to preferve royal majefty from 
 contempt, can we fay the fame of half a dozen illegitimate 
 children, moft of them the offspring of adultery, by the fame 
 majefty, got, educated, and made princes at the expence of 
 
 i 
 
LINE 200. 95 
 
 the nation ! therefore, it is evident, that this awing of the 
 multitude, by a diilinguifhed manner of living, is only a 
 cloak and pretence, under which, great men would ihelter 
 their vanity, and indulge every appetite about them without 
 reproach. 
 
 A burgomafter of Amilerdam, in his plain black fuit, fol- 
 lowed perhaps by one footman, is fully as much refpecled, 
 and better obeyed, than a lord mayor of London, with all 
 his fplendid equipage, and great train of attendance. Where 
 there is a real power, it is ridiculous to think that any tem- 
 perance or auflerity of life mould ever render the peribn, in 
 whom that power is lodged, contemptible in his office, from 
 an emperor to the beadle of a parifh. Cato, in his go- 
 vernment of Spain, in which he acquitted himfelfwith fo 
 muchglory, had only three fervants to attend him; do wehear 
 that any or nis orders were ever flighted for this,notwithftand- 
 ingthat heloved his bottle? and, when that great man marched 
 on foot through the fcorching lands of Libya, and parched up 
 with thirit, refilled to touch the water that was brought him, 
 before all his foldiers had drank, do we ever read that this 
 heroic forbearance weakened his authority, or lerTened him 
 in the efteem of his army? but what need we go fo far off? 
 there has not, for thefe many ages, been a prince lefs inclin- 
 ed to pomp and luxury than the * prefent king of Sweden, 
 who, enamoured with the title of hero, has not only facri- 
 ficed the lives of his fubjecis, and welfare of his dominions, 
 but (what is more uncommon in fovereigns) his own eafe, 
 and all the comforts of life, to an implacable fpirit of re- 
 venge • yet he is obeyed to the ruin of his people, in obfti- 
 nately maintaining a war that has almoft utterly deftroyed 
 his kingdom. 
 
 Thus 1 have proved, that the real pleafures of all men in 
 nature are worldly and fenfual, if we judge from their prac- 
 tice ; I fay all men m nature, becauie devout Chriitians, 
 who alone are to be excepted here, being regenerated, and 
 preternaturally afliiled by the Divine grace, cannot be laid 
 to be in nature. How itrange it is, that they mould ail fo 
 unanimoully deny it ! aik not only the divines and moralifls 
 of every nation, but hkewife all that are rich and powerful, 
 about real pleafure, and they will tell you, with the Stoics, 
 that there can be no true felicity in things mundane and" 
 
 * This was wrote in 1714. 
 
96 REMARKS. 
 
 corruptible : but then look upon their lives, and you will 
 find they take delight in no other. 
 
 What muft we do in this dilemma? fhall we be fo un- 
 charitable, as judging from mens actions, to fay, that all 
 the world prevaricates, and that this is not their opinion, let 
 them talk what they will ? or fhall we be fo filly, as relying 
 on what they fay, to think them fincere in their fentiments, 
 andfo not believe our own eyes? or fhall we rather endeavour 
 to believe ourfelves and them too, and fay with Montagne, 
 that they imagine, and are fully perfuaded, that they believe 
 what they do not believe? thefe are his words : " fome im- 
 " pofe on the world, and would be thought to belive what 
 <c they really do not : but much the greater number impofe 
 " upon themfelves, not considering, nor thoroughly appre- 
 " hending what it is to believe." But this is making all 
 mankind either fools or impoftors, which, to avoid, there is 
 nothing left us, but to fay what Mr. Bayle has endeavoured 
 to prove at large in his Reflections on Comets : " that man is 
 U fo unaccountable a creature as to act mod commonly a- 
 " gainfl his principle ;" and this is fo far from being injuri- 
 ous, that it is a compliment to human nature, for we muft 
 fee either this or worfe. 
 
 This contradiction in the frame of man is the reafon that 
 the theory of virtue is fo well underitood, and the practice 
 of it fo rarely to be met with. If you aik me where to look 
 for thofe beautiful lhining qualities of prime miniiters, and 
 the great favourites of princes that are fo finely painted in 
 dedications, addrelies, epitaphs, funeral fermons, and in- 
 fcriptions, I anfwer, there, and no where elie. Where 
 would you look for the excellency of a Jiatue, bat in that 
 part which you fee of it? It Is the poliihed outnde only that 
 has the fkill and labour of the fculptor to boait of; what is 
 out of light is untouched. Would you break the head, or 
 cut open the breait to look for the brains or the heart, you 
 would only fhow your ignorance, and dellroy the work- 
 manfhip. This has often made me compare the virtues of 
 great men to your large China jars : they make a fine fhow, 
 and are ornamental even to a chimney ; one would, by the 
 bulk they appear in, and the value that is fet upon them, 
 think they might be very ufeful, but look into a thoufand of 
 ••them, and you will find nothing in them but dull and cob- 
 webs. 
 
2oi, 97 
 
 Line 201. — ■ The very poor 
 
 Liv'd better than the rich before. 
 
 If we trace the moil fiourifhing nations in their origin, we 
 fhall find, that in the remote beginnings of every fociety, the 
 richer! and mofl confidefable men among them were a great 
 while deilitute of a great many comforts of life that .are now 
 enjoyed by the meaner! and moil humble wretches : fo that 
 many things which were once looked upon as the invention 
 of luxury, are now allowed, even to thole that are fo mife- 
 rably poor as to become the objects of public charity, nay, 
 counted fo neceffary, that we think no human creature 
 ought to want them. 
 
 In the firft ages, man, without doubt, fed on the fruits of 
 the earth, without any previous preparation, and repofed 
 himfelf naked like other animals on the lap of their common. 
 parent : whatever has contributed fnce to make life more 
 comfortable, as it muil have been the refult of thought, ex- 
 * perience, and fome labour, fo it more or lefs deferves the 
 name of luxury, the more or lefs trouble it required, and de- 
 viated from the primitive fimplicity. Our admiration is ex- 
 tended no farther than to what is new to us, and we all over- 
 look the excellency of things we are ufed to, be they never 
 fo curious. A man would be laughed at, that fhould difco- 
 ver luxury in the plain drefs of a poor creature, that v 
 along in a thick parifn gown, and a coarfe fnirt under:: = 
 it ; and yet what a number of people, how many diltl 
 trades, and what a variety of IkiB and tools muil be empj 
 ed to have the moil ordinary Yorkfnire cloth? What depth 
 of thought and ingenuity, what toil and labour, and what 
 length of time muil it have coft, before man could learn from 
 a feed, to raiie and prepare fo ufeful a product as linen. 
 
 Muil that fociety not be vainly curious, among whom this 
 admirable commodity, after it is made, fhall not be thought 
 fit to be ufed even by the pooreil of all, before it is brought 
 to a perfect whitenefs, which is not to be procured but by 
 the afliilance of all the elements, joined to a world of in. 
 try and patience ? I have not done yet : can we reflect not 
 only on the coil laid out upon this luxurious invention, but 
 likewife on the little time the whitenefs of it continues, in 
 which part of its beauty coniiils, that every fix or feven days 
 at fartheii it wants cleaning, and while it lails is a-continual 
 
 H 
 
9 8 REMARKS. 
 
 charge to the wearer ; can we, I fay, reflecT: on all this, and 
 not think it an extravagant piece of nicety, that even thofe 
 who receive alms of the parifh, mould not only have whole 
 garments made of this operofe manufacture, but likewife that 
 as foon as they are foiled, to reftore them to their priftine 
 purity, they mould make ufe of one of the moil judicious as 
 well as difficult compofitions that ehemiltry can boaft of; 
 with which, diflblved in water by the help of fire, the moil 
 deterfive, and yet innocent lixivium is prepared that human 
 induflry has hitherto been able to invent ? 
 
 It is certain, time was that the things Ifpeak of would 
 have bore thofe lofty expreffions, and in which every body 
 would have reafoned after the fame manner ; but the age 
 we live in would call a man fool, who mould talk of extra- 
 vagance and nicety, if he faw a poor woman, after having 
 wore her crown cloth fmock a whole week, wafh it with a 
 bit of flunking foap of a groat a pound. 
 
 The arts of brewing, and making bread, have by flow de- 
 grees been brought to the perfection they now are in, but to 
 have invented them at once, and a priori, would have re- 
 quired more knowledge and a deeper inlight into the nature 
 of fermentation, than the greater!: philofopher has hitherto* 
 been endowed with ; yet the fruits of both are now enjoyed 
 by the meanefl of our fpecies, and a ftarving wretch knows 
 not how to make a more humble, or a more modefl petition, 
 than by alking for a bit of bread, or a draught of fmall beer. 
 
 Man has learned by experience, that nothing was fofter 
 than the fmall plumes and down of birds, and found that 
 heaped together, they would by their elafticity, gently refill 
 any incumbent weight, and heave up again of themfelves as 
 foon as the preffure is over. To make ufe of them to deep 
 upon was, no doubt, fail invented to compliment the vanity 
 as well as eafe of the wealthy and potent ; but they are long 
 iince become fo common, that ahnoft every body lies upon 
 featherbeds, and to fubftitute flocks in the room of them is 
 counted a miferable ihift of the moil neceflitous. What a 
 vaft height mull luxury have been arrived to, before it could 
 be reckoned a hardihip to repofe upon the foft wool of ani- 
 mals ! 
 
 From caves, huts, hovels, tents, and barracks, with which 
 mankind took up at firft, we are come to warm and well- 
 wrought houfes, and the meanefl habitations to be feen in 
 cities, are regular buildings, contrived by perfons fldlled in 
 
LINE 201. 99 
 
 proportions and architecture. If the ancient Britons and 
 Gauls fhould come out of their graves, with what amazement 
 would they gaze on the mighty ftructures every where raifed 
 for the poor ! Should they behold the magnificence of a 
 Chelfey-College, a Greenwich-Hofpital, or what furpafTes all 
 them, a Des Invalides at Paris, and fee the care, the plenty, 
 the fuperfluities and pomp, which people that have no 
 pofTeflions at all are treated with in thofe ilately palaces, 
 thofe who were once the greater! and richer! of the land 
 would have reafon to envy the moil reduced of our fpecies 
 now. 
 
 ■ Another piece of luxury the poor enjoy, that is not looked 
 upon as fuch, and which there is no doubt but the wealthier! 
 in a golden age would abflain from, is their making ufe of 
 the flefh of animals to eat. In what concerns the fafhions 
 and manners of the ages men live in, they never examine 
 into the real worth or merit of the caufe, and generally 
 judge of things not as their reafon, but cuftom direct them* 
 Time was when the funeral rites in the difpoling of the 
 dead, were performed by fire, and the cadavers of the greater! 
 emperors were burnt to afhes. Then burying the corps in 
 the ground was a funeral for flaves, or made a punifhment 
 for the word of malefactors. Now nothing is decent or ho- 
 nourable but interring ; and burning the body is referved for 
 crimes of the blacker! dye. At fome times we look upon 
 trifles with horror, at other times we can behold enormities 
 without concern. If we fee a man walk with his hat on in 
 a church, though out of fervice time, it fhocks us ; but if on 
 a Sunday night we meet half a dozen fellows drunk in the 
 ftreet, the light makes little or no impreflion upon us. If a 
 woman at a merry-making drefTes in man's clothes, it is 
 reckoned a frolic amongf! friends, and he that finds too much 
 fault with it is counted cenforious : upon the ftage it is done 
 without reproach, and the moft virtuous ladies will difpenfe 
 with it in an actrefs, though every body has a full view of 
 her legs and thighs; but if the fame woman, as foon as fhe 
 has petticoats on again, fhould mow her leg to a man as high 
 as her knee, it would be a very immodelt action, and every 
 body will call her impudent for it. 
 
 I have often thought, if it was not for this tyranny which 
 cuftom ufurps over us, that men of any tolerable good-nature 
 could never be reconciled to the killing of fo many animals* 
 for their daily food, as long as the bountiful earth io plenti* 
 
 H 2 
 
ZOO REMARKS. 
 
 fully provides them with varieties of vegetable dainties. I 
 know that : cites our compaffionbut faintly, and there- 
 
 fore I would no . wonder how men ihould fo little commife- 
 rate fuch imperfect creatures as cray-fifh, oyfters, cockles, and 
 indeed all fifh in general : as they are mute, and their inward 
 formation, as well as outward figure, vaftly different from ours, 
 they exprefs themfelves unintelligibly to us, and therefore it 
 is not Itrange that their grief ihould not affecl our underftand- 
 ing which it cannot reach ; for nothing ftirs us to pity fo ef- 
 fectually, as when the fymptoms of mifery ftrike immediate- 
 ly upon our fenfes, and I have feen people moved at the 
 noife a live lobfter makes upon the fpit, that could have kil- 
 led half a dozen fowls with pleafure. But in fuch perfect 
 animals as fheep and oxen, in whom the heart, the brain and 
 nerves differ fo little from ours, and in whom the feparation 
 of the fpirits from the blood, the organs of fenfe, andconfe- 
 quently feeling itfelf, are the fame as they are in human 
 creatures; I cannot imagine how a man not hardened in blood 
 and maffacre, is able to fee a violent death, and the pangs 
 of it, without concern. 
 
 In anfwer to this, moil people will think it furncient to 
 fay, that all things being allowed to be made for the fervice 
 of man, there can be no cruelty in putting creatures to the 
 ufe they were deiigned for ; but 1 have heard men make this 
 reply, while their nature within them has reproached them 
 with the falfehood of the affertion. There is of all the mul- 
 titude not one man in ten but what will own (if he was not 
 brought up in a (laughter houfe), that of all trades he could 
 never have been a butcher ; and I queflion whether ever 
 any body fo much as killed a chicken without reiuclancy 
 the nrrt time. Some people are not to be perfuaded to tafle 
 of any creatures they have daily feen and been acquainted 
 with, while they were alive ; others extend their fciuple no 
 further than to their own poultry, and refufe to eat what 
 they fed and took care of themfelves ; yet all of them will 
 feed heartily and without lemorfe on beef, mutton, and fowls, 
 when they are bought in the market. In this behaviour, 
 niethinks, there appears fomething like a conicioufnefs of 
 t, it looks as if they endeavoured to lave themfelves from 
 the imputation of a crime (which they know lticks fome- 
 where) by removing the caufe of it as far as they can from 
 themfelves , and can dilcover in it fome ftrong remains of 
 primitive pity and innocence, which ail the arbitrary power 
 
LINE 201, ICI 
 
 of cuftom, and the violence of luxury, have not yet been a- 
 ble to conquer. 
 
 What I build upon I mall be told is a folly that wife men? 
 are not guilty of: I own it; but while it proceeds from a 
 real paflion inherent in our nature, it is fufficient to demon- 
 ftrate, that we are born with a repugnancy to the killing, 
 and confequently the eating of animals ; for it is impoilible 
 that a natural appetite mould ever prompt us to act, or de- 
 Are others to do, what we have an averfion to, be it as foolifh 
 as it will. 
 
 Every body knows, that furgeons, in the cure of danger- 
 ous wounds and fractures, the extirpations of limbs, and other 
 dreadful operations, are often compelled to put their pa- 
 tients to extraordinary torments, and that the more defpe- 
 rate and calamitous cafes occur to them, the more the out- 
 cries and bodily fuiferings of others mutt become familiar to 
 them ; for this reafon, our Englilh law, out of a moft affecl ion- 
 ate regard to the lives of the fubject, allows them not to be 
 of any jury upon life and death, as fuppofing that their prac- 
 tice itfelf is fufficient to harden and extinguish in them that 
 tendernefs, without which no man is capable of fetting a 
 true value upon the lives of his fellow-creatures. Now, if 
 we ought to have no concern for what we do to brute beafts, 
 and there was not imagined to be any cruelty in kjiling 
 them, why fhould of all callings butchers, and only they, 
 jointly with furgeons, be excluded from being jurymen by 
 the fame law ? 
 
 I 'fhall urge nothing of what Pythagoras and many other 
 wife men have faid concerning this barbarity of eating riefh ; 
 I have gone too much out of my way already, and mail 
 therefore beg the reader, if he would have any more of this, 
 to run over the following fable, or elfe, if he be tired, to let 
 it alone, with an alfurance that in doing of either he fhall 
 equally oblige me. 
 
 A Roman merchant, in one of the Cathaginian war's, was 
 cafe away upon the coait of Afric : himfelf and his Have with 
 great difficulty got fafe afhore ; but going in queft of relief, 
 were met by a lion of a mighty fize. It happened to be one 
 of the breed that ranged in iEibp's days, and one that could 
 not only fpeak feveral languages, but feemed, moreover, very 
 well acquainted with human affairs. The Have got upon a tree, 
 but his mailer not thinking himfelf fafe there, and having 
 heard much of the generofity of lions, fell down proltrate be- 
 
 H 3 
 
102 REMARKS. 
 
 fore him, with all the figns of fear and fubmiflion. The lion 
 who had lately filled his belly, bids him rife, and for a while 
 lay by his fears, affuring him withal, that he fhould not be 
 touched, if he could give him any tolerable reafons why he 
 fhould not be devoured. The merchant obeyed; and 
 having now received fome glimmering hopes of fafety, gave 
 a difmal account of the fhipwreck he had fuffered, and en- 
 deavouring from thence to raife the lion's pity, pleaded his 
 caufewith abundance of good rhetoric; but obferving by the 
 countenance of the beaft, that flattery and fine words made 
 very little impreffion, he betook himfelf to arguments of 
 greater folidity, and reafoning from the excellency of man's 
 nature and abilities, remonftrated how improbable it was that 
 the gods fhould not have deligned him for a better ufe, than 
 to be eat by favage beads. Upon this the lion became more 
 attentive, and vouchfafed now and then a reply, till at laft 
 the following dialogue enfued between them. 
 
 Oh vain and covetous animal (faid the lion), whofe pride 
 and avarice can make him leave his native foil, where his 
 natural wants might be plentifully fupplied, and try rough 
 feas a ad dangerous mountains to find out fuperfluities, why 
 fhould you efteem your fpecies above ours ? And if the 
 gods have given you a fuperiority over all creatures, then 
 why beg you of an inferior ? Our fuperiority (anfwer- 
 ed the merchant) confifts not in bodily force, but ftrength of 
 underfianding ; the gods have endued us with a rational foul, 
 which, though invifible, is much the better part of us. I de- 
 fire to touch nothing of you but what is good to eat ; but 
 why do you value yourfelf fo much upon that part which is 
 invifible ? Becaufe it is immortal, and ihall meet with re- 
 wards after death for the actions of this life, and the juft fhall 
 enjoy eternal blifs and tranquillity with the heroes and demi- 
 gods in the Elyfian fields. What life have you led ? I have 
 honoured the gods, and ftudied to be beneficial to man. 
 Then why do you fear death, if you think the gods as juft 
 as you have been ? 1 have a wife and five fmall children 
 that muft come to want if they lofe me. I have two whelps 
 that are not big enough to fhift for themfelves, that are in 
 want now, and muft actually be ftarved if I can provide no- 
 thing for them : Your children will be provided for one way 
 or other ; at leaft as well when I have eat you, as if you had 
 been drowned. 
 
 As to the excellency of either fpecies, the value of things 
 
LIKE 201. IO3 
 
 among you has ever increafed with the fcarcity of them, and 
 to a million of men there is hardly one lion ; befides that, 
 in the great veneration man pretends to have for his kind, 
 there is little fincerity farther than it concerns the fhare 
 which every one's pride has in it for himfelf ; it is a folly to 
 boaft of the tendernefs fhown, and attendance given to your 
 young ones, ortheexceffive and lafting trouble bellowed in the 
 education of them: Man being born the moll neceffitous and 
 moll helplefs animal, this is only an inftincl of nature, which, 
 in all creatures, has ever proportioned the care of the pa- 
 rents to the wants and imbecillities of the offspring. But if 
 a man had a real value for his kind, how is it poffible that 
 often ten thoufand of them, and fometimes ten times as 
 many, Ihouid be dellroyed in few hours, for the caprice of 
 two? All degrees of men defpife thofe that are inferior to 
 them, and if you could enter into the hearts of kings and 
 princes, you would hardly find any but what have lefs value 
 for the greatelt part of the multitudes they rule over, than 
 thofe have for the cattle that belong to them. Why mould 
 fo many pretend to derive their race, though but fpurioully, 
 from the immortal gods ; why mould all of them fuffer 
 others to kneel down before them, and more or lefs take de- 
 light in having divine honours paid them, but to inlinuate 
 that themfelves are of a more exalted nature, and a fpecies 
 fuperior to that of their fubjedls ? 
 
 Savage I am, but no creature can be called cruel, but 
 what either by malice or infenfibility extinguifhes his natural 
 pity: The lion was born without companion; we follow 
 the inftincl of our nature ; the gods have appointed us to 
 live upon the wafte and fpoil of other animals, and as long 
 as we can meet with dead ones, we never hunt after the 
 living. It is only man, mifchievous man, that can make 
 death a fport. Nature taught your ftomach to crave no- 
 thing but vegetables ; but your violent fondnefs to change, 
 and great eagernefs after novelties, have prompted you to 
 the dellruclion of animals without juftice or necerTTty, per- 
 verted your nature, and warped your appetites which way 
 foever your pride or luxury have called them. The lion has 
 a ferment within him that confumes the tougheft lkin and 
 hardell bones, as well as the flefh of all animals without ex- 
 ception : Your fqueamifh ftomach, in which the digeftive 
 heat is weak and inconliderable, will not fo much as admit 
 . of the molt tender parts of them, unlefs above half the con- 
 
 H 4 
 
104 REMARKS. 
 
 cqclion has been performed by artificial fire before hand ; 
 and jet what animal have you fpared to fatisfy the caprices 
 of a languid appetite ? Languid I fay ; for what is man's 
 hanger, if compared to the lion's ? Yours, when it is at the 
 worft, makes you faint, mine makes me mad : Oft have I 
 tried with roots and herbs to allay the violence of it, but in 
 v#in ; nothing but large quantities of flefli can any wife ap- 
 peafe it. 
 
 Yet the fierceiiefs of our hunger notwithstanding, lions 
 have often requited benefits received ; but ungrateful and 
 perfidious man feeds on the iheep that clothes him, and 
 fpares not her innocent young ones, whom he has taken in- 
 to his care and cuftody. If you tell me the gods made man 
 er over all other creatures, what tyranny was it then to 
 py them out of wantonnefs? No, fickle, timorous ani- 
 mal, the gods have made you for fociety, and deligned that 
 millions of you, when well joined together, fhould compofe 
 the ftrong Leviathan. A fingle lion bears fome lway in the 
 creation, but what is fingle man? A fmall and inconfider- 
 able part, a trilling atom of one great bead. What nature 
 defigns, fhe executes ; and it is not fafe to judge of what lire 
 purpofed, but from the effects fhe fhows : If fhe had intended 
 that man, as man from a fuperiority of fpecies, fhould lord 
 it over all other animals, the tiger, nay, the whale and eagle 
 wouid have obeyed his voice. 
 
 But if your wit and underftanding exceeds ours, ought 
 not the lion, in deference to that fuperiority, to follow the 
 maxims of men, with whom nothing is more facred, than 
 that the reafon of the ftrongefl is ever the moil prevalent ? 
 Whole multitudes of you have confpired and compafied the 
 deftruciion of one, after they had owned the gods had made 
 him their fuperior ; and one has often ruined and cut off 
 whole multitudes, whom, by the fame gods, he had fworn to 
 defend and maintain. Man never acknowledged fuperiority 
 without power, and why fhould I ? The excellence I boafl 
 of is vifible, all animals tremble at the fight of the lion, not 
 out of panic fear. The gods have given me fvviftnefs to 
 overtake, and flrength to conquer whatever comes near me. 
 Where is there a creature that has teeth and claws like mine, 
 behold the thicknefs of thefe malTy jaw-bones, conlider the 
 width, of them, and feel the firmnefs of this brawny neck. 
 The nimbleil deer, the wilder! boar, the (touted horle, and 
 
LINE 20 1". 105 
 
 ■ftrongeft bull, are my prey wherever I meet them. Thus 
 fpoke the lion, and the merchant fainted away. 
 
 The lion, in my opinion, has iiretched the point too far ; 
 yet, when to foften the flefh of male animals, we have by 
 caftration prevented the firmnefs their tendons, and every 
 fibre would have come to, without it, I confefs, I think it 
 ought to move a human creature, when he reflects upon the 
 cruel care with which they are fattened for defiruciion. 
 When a large and gentle bullock, after having refilled a ten 
 times greater force of blows than would have killed his mur- 
 derer, falls dunned at lad, and his armed head is fadened to 
 the ground with cords ; as foon as the wide wound is made, 
 and the jugulars are cut afunder, what mortal can, without 
 comparison, hear the painful bellowings intercepted by his 
 blood, the bitter figh£ that fpeak the fharpneis of his an- 
 guifh, and the deep founding groans, with loud anxiety, 
 fetched from the bottom .of his ftrong and palpitating heart ; 
 look on the trembling and violent convuliions of his limbs; 
 fee, while his reeking gore dreams from him, his eyes be- 
 come dim and languid, and behold his ftrugglings, galps, 
 and lad efforts for life, the certain iigns of his, approaching 
 fate? When a creature has given fuch convincing and un- 
 deniable proofs of the terrors upon him, and the pams and 
 agonies he feels, is there a follower of Defcartes fo inured to 
 blood, as not to refute, fyy his coinmiferation, the philofophy 
 pf that vain reafoner ? 
 
 Line 307. For frugally 
 
 They nowliv'd on tiieir falary. 
 
 W hen people have fmall comings in, and are honeft with- 
 al, it is then that the generality of them begin to be frugal, 
 and not before. Frugality in ethics is called that virtue, 
 from the principle of which men abilain from fuperfiuities, 
 and, defpifing the operofe contrivances of art to procure e:- 
 ther cafe or pleafure, content themfelves with the natural 
 fimphcity of things, and are carefully temperate in the enjoy- 
 ment of them, without any tincture of covetoufnefs. Fru- 
 gality thus limited, is perhaps (career than many may ima- 
 gine ; but what is generally underitood by it, is a quality 
 more often to be met with, and confifts in a medium be- 
 tween profufenefs and avarice, rather leaning to the latter, 
 As tins prudent economy, which fome people call faving, 
 
I06 REMARKS. 
 
 is in private families the moft certain method to increafe an 
 eftate. So feme irr.agme, that whether a country be barren 
 or fruitful, the fame method, if generally purfued (which 
 they think practicable ), will have the fame effect upon a 
 whole nation, and that, for example, the Englifh might be 
 much richer than they are, if thev would be as frugal as fome 
 of their neighbours. This, I think, is an error, which to 
 prove, I mail firft refer the reader to what has been laid up- 
 on this head in Remark on 1. i8u. and then go on thus. 
 
 Experience teaches us firft, that as people differ in their 
 views and perceptions of things, fo they vary in their incli- 
 nations ; one man is given to covetoufnefs, another to pro- 
 digality, and a third is only laving. Secondly, that men 
 are never, or at leaft very feldom, reclaimed from their dar- 
 ling paffions, either by reafon or precept, and that if any 
 thing ever draws them from what they are naturally pro- 
 penfe to, it muft be a change in their circumftances or their 
 fortunes. If we reflect upon thefe obiervations, we fhall 
 find, that to render the generality of a nation lavifh, the 
 product of the country muft be considerable, in proportion 
 to the inhabitants, and what they are profufe of cheap ; 
 that, on the contrary, to make a nation generally frugal, the 
 neceffaries of life muft be fcarce, and coniequently dear ; 
 and that, therefore, let the belt politician do what he can, 
 the profufenefs or frugality of a people in general, muft al- 
 ways depend upon, and will, in fpite of his teeth, be ever 
 proportioned to the fruitrulnefs and product of the country, 
 the number of inhabitants, and the taxes they are to bear. 
 If any body would refute what I have faid, let them only 
 prove from hiftory, that there ever was in any country a na- 
 tional frugality without a national neceflity. 
 
 Let us examine then what things are requifite to aggran- 
 dize and enrich a nation. The firft defirable bleffings for 
 any fociety of men, are a fertile foil, and a happy climate, 
 a mild government, and more land than people. Thefe 
 things will render man eafy, loving, honeft, and fincere. In 
 this condition they may be as virtuous as they can, without 
 the leaft injury to the public, and confequently as happy as 
 they pleafe themfelves. But they mail have no arts or fci- 
 ences, or be quiet longer then their neighbours will let them ; 
 diey muft be poor, ignorant, and almoft wholly deftitnte of 
 what we call the comforts of life, and' all the cardinal vir- 
 tues together would not fo much as procure a tolerable cont 
 
 5 
 
LINE 307. X07 
 
 or a porridge-pot among them : for in this {late of ilothful 
 eafe and flupid innocence, as you need not fear great vices, 
 fo you mult not expect any considerable virtues. Man never 
 exerts himfelf but when he is routed by his defires : while 
 they lie dormant, and there is nothing to raife them, his ex- 
 cellence and abilities will be for ever undifcovered, and the 
 lumpifh machine, without the influence of his paffions, may 
 be juftly compared to a huge wind-mill without a breath of 
 air. 
 
 Would you render a fociety of men flrong and powerful, 
 you mull touch their paffions. Divide the land, though 
 there be never fo much to fpare, and their pofTeiTions will 
 make them covetous : roufe them, though but in jefl, from 
 their idlenefs with praifes, and pride will fet them to work 
 in earnefl : teach them trades and handicrafts, and you will 
 bring envy and emulation among them : to increafe their 
 numbers, fet up a variety of manufactures, and leave no 
 ground uncultivated ; let property be inviolably fecured, 
 and privileges equal to all men ; fuffer nobody to acl but 
 what is lawful^ and every body to think what he pleafes ; 
 for a country where ever} 7 body may be maintained that 
 will be employed, and the other maxims are obferved, mud 
 always be thronged, and can never want people, as long as 
 there is any in the world. Would you have them bold and 
 warlike, turn to military difcipline, make good ufe of their 
 fear, and flatter their vanity with art and affiduity : but 
 would you, moreover, render them an opulent, knowing, 
 and polite nation, teach them commerce with foreign coun- 
 tries, and, if poflible, get into the fea, which to compais 
 fpare no labour nor indufcry, and let no difficulty deter you 
 from it ; then promote navigation, cheriih the merchant, 
 and encourage trade in every branch of it ; this will bring 
 riches, and where they are, arts and fciences will foon -fol- 
 low : and by the help of what I have named and good ma- 
 nagement, it is that politicians can make a people potent, 
 renowned, and flouriihing. 
 
 But would you have a frugal and honeft fociety, the belt 
 policy is to preferve men in their native fimplicity, ft 
 not to increafe their numbers ; let them never be acquaint- 
 ed with ltrangers or fuperfluities, but remove, and keep from 
 them every thing that might raife their delires, or improve 
 their understanding. 
 
IOS REMARKS. 
 
 Great wealth, and foreign treafure, will ever fcorn to come 
 among men, unlefs you will admit their inieparable compa- 
 nions, avarice and luxury : where trade is considerable, fraud 
 will intrude. To be at once well-bred and iincere, is no 
 lefs than a contradiction ; and, therefore, while man advances 
 in knowledge, and his manners are poliihed, 'we muft expecl 
 to fee, at the fame time, his defires enlarged, his appetites 
 refined, and his vices increafed. 
 
 The Dutch may afcribe their prefent grandeur to the vir- 
 tue and frugality of their anceitors as they pleafe ; but what 
 made that contemptible fpot of ground fo confiderable 
 among the principal powers of Europe, has been their poli- 
 tical wifdom in poitponing every thing to merchandife and 
 navigation, the unlimitted liberty of confeience that is en- 
 joyed among them, and the unwearied application with 
 which they have always made ufe of the moil effectual means 
 to encourage and increafe trade in general. 
 
 They never were noted for frugality before Philip II. of 
 Spain began to rage over them with that unheard of tyranny. 
 Their laws were trampled upon, their rights and large im- 
 munities taken from them, and their conftitution torn to 
 pieces. Several cf their chief nobles were condemned and 
 executed without legal form of procefs. Complaints and rc- 
 monftrances were punifhed as feverely as rehllance, and thofe 
 that efcaped being manacred, were plundered by ravenous 
 foldiers. As this was intolerable to a people that had always 
 Been ufed to the mildeft of governments, and enjoyed greater 
 privileges than any of the neighbouring nations, fo they 
 choie rather to die in arms than pcriih by cruel execution- 
 ers. If we confider the ftrength Spain had then, and the 
 low circumftances thofe diiireiied ftates were in, there never 
 was heard of a more unequal ft rife ; yet, fuch was their forti- 
 tude and refolution, that only feven of thofe provinces, 
 uniting themfelves together, maintained againft the greateit 
 and befx difciplined nation in Europe, the moft tedious and 
 bloody war, that is to be met with in ancient or modern 
 hiftory. 
 
 Rather than to become a victim to the Spanifli fury, they 
 were contented to live upon a third part of their revenues, 
 and lay out far the greateit part of thou: income in defend- 
 ing tkernielyes againft their merciieis enemies. Thefe 
 hardmips and calamities of a war within their bowels, lirft 
 put them upon that extraordinary frugality ; and the con- 
 nuance under the lame diiiieuliies ibr above iburfcore ye: . 
 
LINE 307. IO9 
 
 could not but render it cuftomary and habitual to them. 
 But all their arts of faving, and penurious way of living, 
 could never have enabled them to make head againfl fo po- 
 tent an enemy, if their induftry in promoting their fiiliery 
 and navigation in general, had not helped to fupply the na- 
 tural wants and difad vantages they laboured under. 
 
 The country is fo fmall and fo populous, that there is not 
 land enough (though hardly an inch of it is unimproved) to 
 feed the tenth part of the inhabitants. Holland itfelf is full 
 of large rivers, and lies lower than the fea, which would run 
 over it every tide,- and warn it away in one winter, if it was 
 not kept out by vail banks and huge walls : the repairs of 
 thofe, ' as well as their fluices, quays, mills, and other 
 neceiTaries they are forced to make ufe of to keep 
 themielves from being drowned, are a greater expence to 
 them, one year with another, than could be raifed by a ge- 
 neral land tax of four millings in the pound, if to be deduct- 
 ed from the neat produce of the landlord's revenue. 
 
 Is it a wonder, that people, under fuch circumftances, and 
 loaden with greater taxes, beildes, than any other nation, 
 ihould be obliged to be faving ? but why mult they be a 
 pattern to others, who, beildes, that they are more happily 
 iituated, are much richer within themielves, and have, to 
 the fame number of people, above ten times the extent of 
 ground? The Dutch and we often buy and fell at the fame 
 markets, and fo far our views may be faid to be the 
 fame : otherwife the interefls and political reafons of the two 
 nations, as to the private economy of either, are very diffe- 
 rent. It is their intereit to be frugal, and fpend little ; be- 
 caufe they mud have every thing from abroad, except 
 butter, cheefe, and fifh, and therefore of them, efpe- 
 cially the latter, they confume three times the quantity, 
 which the fame number of people do here. It is our inte- 
 reft to eat plenty of beef and mutton to maintain the farmer, 
 and further improve our land, of which we have enough to 
 feed ourfelves, and as many more, if it was better cultivated. 
 The Dutch perhaps have more (hipping, and more ready 
 money than we, but then thofe are only to be confidered as 
 the tools they work with. So a carrier may have more horfes 
 than a man of ten times his worth, and a banker that has 
 not above fifteen or fixteen hundred pounds in the world, 
 may have generally more ready cafh by him, than a gentle- 
 man of two thoufand a-year. He that keeps three or four 
 ftage-coaches to get his bread, is to a gentleman that keeps 
 
i IO REMARKS. 
 
 a coach for his pleafure, what the Dutch are in comparifon to 
 us ; having nothing of their own but fifh, they are carriers 
 and freighters to the reft of the world, while the bans of our 
 trade chiefly depends upon our own product. 
 
 Another inftance, that what makes the bulk of the people 
 faving, are heavy taxes,' fcarcity of land, and fuch things 
 that occafion a dearth of provifions, may be given from what 
 is obfervable among the Dutch themfelves. In the province 
 of Holland their is a vait trade, and an unconceivable trea- 
 fure of money. The land is almoft as rich as dung itfelf, and 
 (as I have faid once already) not an inch of it unimproved. In 
 Gelderland, and OveryfTel, there is hardly any trade, and very 
 little money : the foil is very indifferent, and abundance of 
 ground lies wafte. Then, what is the reafon that the fame 
 Dutch, in the two latter provinces, though poorer than the 
 firft, are yet lefs ftingy and more hofpitable ? Nothing but 
 that their taxes in molt things are lefs extravagant, and in 
 proportion to the number of people, they have a great deal 
 more ground. What they lave in Holland, they fave out of 
 their bellies ; it is eatables, drinkables, and fuel, that their 
 heavieft taxes are upon, but they wear better clothes, and 
 have richer furniture, than you will find in the other pro- 
 vinces. 
 
 Thofe that are frugal by principle, are fo in every thing; 
 but in Holland the people are only fparing in fuch things as 
 are daily wanted, and foon confumed ; in what is laiting 
 they are quite otherwife : in pictures and marble they are 
 profufe ; in their buildings and gardens they are extravagant 
 to folly. In other countries, you may meet with Itately 
 courts and palaces of great extent, that belong to princes, 
 which nobody can expedt in a commonwealth, where fo 
 much equality is obferved as there is in this ; but in all 
 Europe you mall find no private buildings fo fumptuouily 
 magnificent, as a great many of the merchants and other 
 gentlemen's houfes are in Amfterdam, and fome other great 
 cities of that fmall province ; and the generality of thofe that 
 build there, lay out a greater proportion of their eftates oil 
 houfes they dwell in, than any people upon the earth. 
 
 The nation I fpeak of was never in greater ftraits, nor their 
 affairs in a more difmal pofture fince they were a republic, 
 than in the year 1671, and the beginning of 1672. What 
 we know of their economy and conititution with any cer- 
 tainty, has been chiefly owing to Sir William Temple, whofc 
 
LINE 30 7. Ill 
 
 obfervations upon their maimers and government, it is evi- 
 dent from feveral paffages in his memoirs, were made about 
 that time. The Dutch, indeed, were then very frugal ; but 
 lince thofe days, and that their calamities have not been fo 
 preffing (though the common people, on whom the princi- 
 pal burden of all excifes and impoiitions lies, are perhaps 
 much as they were), a great alteration has been made among 
 the better fort of people in their equipages, entertainments, 
 and whole manner of living. 
 
 Thofe who would have it, that the frugality of that na- 
 tion flows not fo much from neceffity, as a general averfion 
 to vice and luxury, will put us in mind of their public admi- 
 niftration, and fmallnefs of falaries, their prudence in bar- 
 gaining for, and buying ftores and other neceflaries, the great 
 care they take not to be impofed upon by thofe that ferve 
 them, and their fe verity againft them that break their con- 
 tracts. But what they would afcribe to the virtue and ho- 
 nefty of minifters, is wholly due to their ftrict regulations, 
 concerning the management of the public treafure, from 
 which their admirable form of government will not fuffer 
 them to depart ; and indeed one good man may take 
 another's word, if they fo agree, but a whole nation ought 
 never to truft to any honefty, but what is built upon neceffi- 
 ty ; for unhappy is the people, and their conftitution will be 
 ever precarious, whofe welfare mull depend upon the virtues 
 and confciences of minifters and politicians. 
 
 The Dutch generally endeavour to promote as much fru- 
 gality among their fubjects as it is poflible, not becaufe it is 
 a virtue, but becaufe it is, generally fpeaking, their intereft, 
 as I have mown before ; for, as this latter changes, fo they 
 alter their maxims, as will be plain in the following inftance. 
 
 As foon as their Eaft India mips come home, the Com- 
 pany pays off the men, and many of them receive the great- 
 elt part of what they have been earning in feven or eight, or 
 fome fifteen or fixteen years time. Thefe poor fellows are 
 encouraged to fpend their money with all profufenefs imagin- 
 able ; and confidering that mod of them, when they fet 
 out flrft, were reprobates, that under the tuition of a itridfc 
 difcipline, and a miferable diet, have been fo long kept at 
 hard labour without money, in the midlt of danger, it can- 
 not be difficult to make them lavifh, as foon as they have 
 plenty. 
 
 They fquander away in wine, women, and mufic, as much 
 
112 REMARKS. 
 
 as people of their tafte and education are well capable of, and 
 are fuffered (fo they but abftain from doing of mifchief ), to 
 revel and riot with greater licentioufnefs than is cuftomary 
 to be allowed to others. You may in fome' cities fee them 
 accompanied with three or four lewd women, few of them 
 fober, run roaring through the ftreets by broad day-light 
 with a fidler before them : And if the money, to their think- 
 ing, goes not fail enough thefe ways, they will find out 
 others, and fometimes fling it among the mob by handfuls. 
 This madnefs continues in moil of them while they have 
 any thing left, which never lafts long, and for this reafon, 
 by a nick-name, they are called, Lords of fix Weeks, that 
 being generally the time by which the Company has other 
 fhips ready to depart ; where thefe infatuated wretches 
 (their money being gone) are forced to enter themfelves 
 again, and may have leifure to repent their folly. 
 
 In this ftratagem there is a double policy : Firft, if the 
 failors that have been inured to the hot climates and un- 
 wholefome air and diet, mould be frugal, and flay in their 
 own country, the Company would be continually obliged to 
 employ frefh men, of which (befides that they are not fo 
 fit for their bufinefs), hardly one in two ever lives in fome 
 places of the Eaft Indies, which often would prove great 
 charge as well as difappointment to them. The fecond is, 
 that the large fums fo often diilributed among thofe failors, 
 are by this means made immediately to circulate throughout 
 the country, from whence, by heavy excifes, and other im- 
 pofitions, the greater! part of it is foon drawn back into the 
 public treafure. 
 
 To convince the champions for national frugality by ano- 
 ther argument, that what they urge is impraclicable r we will 
 fuppofe that I am miftaken in every thing which in Remark, 
 1, 1 80, I have faid in behalf of luxury, and the neceffity of 
 it to maintain trade : after that let us examine what a gene- 
 ral frugality, if it was by art and management to be forced 
 upon people whether they have occafion for it or not, would 
 produce in fuch a nation as ours. We will grant, then, that 
 all the people in Great Britain fhall confume but four-fifths 
 of what they do now, and fo lay by one-fifth part of their 
 income; I fhall not fpeak of what influence this would have 
 upon almpft every trade, as well as the farmer, the grazier, 
 and the landlord, but favourably fuppofe (what is yet im- 
 poffible), that the fame work (hall be done, and consequent- 
 
LINE 3C7. II3 
 
 ly the fame handicrafts be employed as there are now. The 
 confequence would be, that unlefs money mould all at once 
 fall prodigioully in value, and every thing elfe, contrary to 
 reafon, grow very dear, at the five years end all the work- 
 ing people, and the poorelt of labourers (for I would not 
 meddle with any of the reft), would be worth in ready cafh 
 as much as they now fpend in a whole year ; which, by the 
 bye, would be more money than ever the nation had at 
 once. 
 
 Let us now, overjoyed with this increafe of wealth, take 
 a view of the condition the working people would be in, and, 
 reafoning from experience, and what we daily obferve of 
 them, judge what their behaviour would be in fuch a cafe. 
 Every body knows that there is a vaft number of journey- 
 men weavers, tailors, clothworkers, and twenty other handi- 
 crafts, who, if by four days labour in a week they can 
 maintain themfelves, will hardly be perfuaded to work the 
 fifth ; and that there are thoufands of labouring men of all 
 forts, who will, though they can hardly fublift, put them- 
 felves to fifty inconveniences, difoblige their mailers, pinch 
 their bellies, and run in debt to make holidays. When men 
 fhow 4uch an extraordinary proclivity to idlenefs and piea- 
 fure, what reafon have we to think that they would ever 
 work, unlefs they were obliged to it by immediate neceffity? 
 When we fee an artificer that cannot be drove to his work 
 before Tuefday, becaufe the Monday morning he has two 
 millings left of his laft week's pay ; why mould we imagine 
 he would go to it at all, if he had fifteen or twenty pounds 
 in his pocket ? 
 
 What would, at this rate, become of our manufactures ? If 
 the merchant w^ould fend cloth abroad, he muft make it him- 
 felf, for the clothier cannot get one man out of twelve that 
 ufed to work for him. If what I fpeak of was only to befal 
 the journeymen fhoemakers, and nobody elfe, in lefs than a 
 twelvemonth, half of us would go barefoot. The chief and 
 moft preffing ufe there is for money in a nation, is to pay the 
 labour of the poor, and when there is a real fcarcity of it, 
 thole who have a great many workmen to pay, will ahvays 
 feel it firft ; yet notwithflanding this great neceffity of coin, 
 it would be eafier, where property was w T eil fecured, to live 
 without money, than without poor ; for who would do the 
 work ? For this reafon the quantity of circulating coin in a 
 country, ought always to be proportioned to the number of' 
 
 I 
 
114 REMARKS. N • 
 
 hands that are employed ; and the wages of labourers to the 
 price of provilions. From whence it is demonstrable, that 
 whatever procures plenty, makes labourers cheap, where the 
 poor are well managed; who as they ought to be kept from 
 itarving, fo the;/ fnould receive nothing worth faving. If 
 here and there one of the loweft clafs by uncommon indus- 
 try, and pinching his belly, lifts himfelf above the condition 
 he was brought up in, nobody ought to hinder him ; nay, it 
 is undeniably the wiieft courfe for every perfon in the focie- 
 ty, and for every private family to be frugal; but it is the 
 intereit of all rich nations, that the greateft part of the poor. 
 fhould almoit never be idle, and yet continually fpend what 
 they get. 
 
 All men, as Sir William Temple obferves very well, are 
 more prone to eafe and pleafure than - they are to labour, 
 when they are not prompted to it by pride and avarice, and 
 thofe that get their living by their dcrtly labour, are feldom 
 powerfully influenced by either : fo that they have nothing 
 to ftir them up to be ferviceable but their wants, which it is 
 prudence to relieve, but folly to cure. The only thing, then, 
 that can render the labouring man induftrious, is a moderate 
 quantity of money ; for as too little will, according as his 
 temper is, either dffpirit or make him defperate, fo too much 
 will make him infolent and lazy. 
 
 A man would be laughed at by moft people, who mould 
 maintain that too much money could undo a nation : yet 
 this has been the fate of Spain ; to* this the learned Don 
 Diego Savedra afcribes the ruin of his country. The fruits 
 of the earth informer ages bad made Spain fo rich, that 
 King Lewis XL of JTrai come to the court of Tole- 
 
 do, was aftonifhed at its fplendour, and laid, that he had 
 never feen any thing to be compared to it, either in Europe 
 or Alia ; he that in his travels to the Holy Land had run 
 through every province of them. In the kingdom of Caf- 
 tile alone (if we may believe fome writers), there were for 
 the holy war, from all pans of the world got together one 
 hundred thoufand foot, ten thoufand horfe, and lixty thou- 
 sand carriages for baggage, which Alonlb III. maintained at 
 his own charge, and paid every day, as well foldiers as officers 
 and princes, every one according to his rank and dignity : 
 nay, down to the reign of Ferdinand and Ifabella (who 
 equipped Columbus), and fome time after, Spain was a fertile 
 country, where trade and manufactures flourifhed, and had a 
 
 4 
 
I:;- 307. 115 
 
 knowing indifftnous people to boaft of. But as focn as that 
 mighty treafure, that was obtained with more hazard and 
 cruelty than the world until then had known, and which to 
 come at, by the Spaniard's own conieffion, had coir the lives 
 of twenty millions of Indians; as foon, I fay, as that ocean 
 of treafure came rolling in upon them, it took away their 
 fenfes, and their induftry forfook them. The farmer left his 
 -plough, the mechanic his tools, the merchant his compting- 
 houfe, and every body fcorriing to work, took his pleafure 
 and turned gentleman. They thought they had reafon to 
 value themfelves above all their neighbours, and now nothing 
 but. the conquefl of the world would ferve them. 
 
 The confequence ot this has been, that other nations have 
 fupplied what their own ftoth and pride denied them; and 
 when every body law, that notwithstanding all the prohibi- 
 tions the government could make againft the exportation of 
 bullion, the Spaniard would part with his moneys and bring 
 it you aboard himfelf at the hazard of his neck, all the world 
 endeavoured to work for Spain. Gold and iilver being by 
 this means yearly divided and ihared among all the trading 
 countries, have made all things dear, and mofl nations of 
 Europe induitrious, except their owners, who, ever fince their 
 mighty acquifitions, lit with their arms acrofs, and wait every 
 year with impatience and anxiety, the arrival of their 
 revenues from abroad, to pay others for what they have fpent 
 already : and thus by too much money, the making of colo- 
 nies ancf other mifmanagements, of which it was the occa- 
 fion, Spain is, from a fruitful and well- peopled country, w T ith 
 all its mighty titles and pofTeilions, made a barren and empty 
 thoroughfare, through which gold and filver pafs from Ame- 
 rica to the reft of the world ; and the nation, from a rich, 
 acute, diligent, and laborious, become a flow, idle, proud, and 
 beggarly people : So much for Spain. The next country 
 where money is called the product, is Portugal, and the fi- 
 gure which that kingdom with ail its gold makes in Europe, 
 1 think is not much to be envied. 
 
 The great art then to make a nation happy, and what we 
 Call flourifhing, cocfifts in giving every body an opportunity 
 of being employed ; which to compafs, let a government's 
 firft care be to promote as great a variety of manufactures, 
 arts, and handicrafts, as human wit can invent; and the 
 fecond, to encourage agriculture and fifhery in all their 
 branches, that the whole earth may be forced to exert itfelf 
 
 I 2 
 
H6 Remarks. 
 
 as well as man ; for as the one is an infallible maxim to draw 
 vail multitudes of people into a nation, fo the other is the 
 only method to maintain them. 
 
 It is from this policy, and not the trifling regulations of la- 
 vifhnefs and frugality (which will ever take their own courfe, 
 according to the circumilances of the people), that the great- 
 nefs and felicity of nations mud be expected; for let the va- 
 lue of gold and fiiver either rife or fall, the enjoyment of all 
 ibcieties will ever depend upon the fruits of the earth, and 
 the labour of the people; both which joined together are a 
 more certain, a more inexhauftible, and a more real treafure, 
 than the gold of Brazil, or the fiiver of Potofi. 
 
 Line 321 No honour now, &c. 
 
 JtIonour, in its figurative fenfe, is a chimera without truth or 
 being, an invention of moralifts and politicians, and fignifies 
 a certain principle of virtue not related to religion, found in 
 fome men that keeps them clofe to their duty and engage- 
 ments whatever they be; as for example, a man of honour 
 enters into a confpiracy with others to murder a king ; he is 
 obliged to go thorough flitch with it ; and if overcome by 
 remorfe or good nature, he ftartles at the enormity of his pur- 
 pofe, difcovers the plot, and turns a witnefs againft his ac- 
 complices, he then forfeits his honour, at leait among the 
 party he belonged to. The excellency of this principle is, 
 that the vulgar are deftitute of it, and it is only to* be met 
 with in people of the better fort, as fome oranges have ker- 
 nels, and others not, though the outficle be the fame. In 
 great families it is like the gout, generally counted heredita- 
 ry, and all the lords children are born with it. In fome that 
 never felt any thing of it, it is acquired by converfation and 
 reading (efpecially of romances), in others by preferment; 
 but there is nothing that encourages the growth of it more 
 than a fword, and upon the firft wearing of one, fome peo- 
 ple have felt conliderable ihoots of it in four and twenty 
 hours. 
 
 The chief and mod important care a man of honour ought 
 to have, is the prefervation of this principle, and rather than 
 forfeit it, he mutt lofe his employments and eftate, nay, life 
 itfelf ; for which reafon, whatever humility he may (haw by- 
 way of good-breeding, he is allowed to put an ineflimable 
 value upon himfelf, as a polTbflbr of this invifible ornamefit. 
 
LINE 32I. 117 
 
 The only method to preferve this principle, is to live up to 
 the rules of honour, which are laws he is to walk by : him- 
 felf is obliged always to be faithful to his truft, to prefer the 
 public intereft to his own, not to tell lies, nor defraud or 
 wrong any body, and from others to fuffer no affront, which 
 is a term of art for every action defignedly done to underva- 
 lue him. 
 
 The men of ancient honour, of which I reckon Don 
 Quixote to have been the laft upon record, were very nice 
 obfervers of all thefe laws, and a great many more than I have 
 named ; but the moderns feem to be more remifs : they 
 have a profound veneration for the laft of them, but they 
 pay not an equal obedience to any of the other ; and who- 
 ever will but ftrictly comply w 7 ith that I hint at, iliall have 
 abundance of trefpaiTes againft all the reft connived at. 
 
 A man of honour is always counted impartial, and a man 
 of fenfe of courfe ; for nobody never heard of a man of ho- 
 nour that was a fool: for this reafon, he has nothing to do 
 with the law, and is always allowed to be a judge in his own 
 cafe; and if the leaft injury be done either to himfelf or his 
 friend, his relation, his fervant, his dog, or any thing which 
 he is pleafed to take under his honourable protection, fatis- 
 faction muft be forthwith demanded; and if it proves an af- 
 front, and he that gave it like wife a man of honour, a battle 
 muft enfue. From all this it is evident, that a man of ho- 
 nour muft be pofTefled of courage, and that without it his 
 other principle would be no more than a fword without a 
 point. Let us, therefore, examine what courage coniirts in, 
 and whether it be, as moft people will have it, a real fome- 
 thing that valiant men have in their nature diftinct from all 
 their other qualities or not. 
 
 There is nothing fo univerfally fincere upon earth, as the 
 love w r hich all creatures, that are v capable of any, bear to 
 themfelves ; and as there is no love but what implies a care 
 to preferve the thing beloved, fo there is nothing more iin- 
 cere in any creature than his will, wifhes, and endeavours, 
 to preferve himfelf. This is the law of nature, by which 
 no creature is endued with any appetite or paffion, but what 
 either directly or indirectly tends to the prefervation either 
 of himfelf or his fpecies. 
 
 The means by which nature obliges every creature con- 
 tinually to ftir in this bufinefs of felf-prefervation, are graft- 
 ed in him, and, in man, called deflres, which either corah 
 
 1 3 
 
IlS REMARKS. 
 
 pel him him to crave what he thinks will fufeain or pleafe 
 him, or command him to avoid what he imagines might dif- 
 pleafe, hurt, or deitroy him. Thefe defires or padions have 
 ail their different fymptoms by which they manifeft them- 
 felves to thofe they dulurb, and from that variety of dis- 
 turbances they make within us, their various denominations 
 have been given them, as has been mown already in pride 
 and fname. 
 
 The pailion that is raifed in us when we apprehend that 
 mifchief is approaching us, is called fear : the diiturbance it 
 makes within us is always more or lefs violent in proportion, 
 not of the danger, but our appreheniion of the mifchief 
 dreaded, whether real or imaginary. Our fear then being 
 always proportioned to the apprehension we have of the 
 danger, it follows, that while that apprehenfion rafts, a man can 
 no more (hake orf his fear than he can a leg or an arm. In a 
 fright, it is true, the apprehenfion of danger is fo hidden, 
 and attacks us fo lively (as iometimes to take away reafon 
 and fenfesj, that when it is over we often do not remember 
 we had any apprehenfion at all ; but, from the event, it is 
 plain we had it, for how could we have been frightened if 
 we had not apprehended that fome evil or other was coming 
 upon us? 
 
 Mori people are of opinion, that this apprehenfion is to 
 "be conquered by reafon, but I confefs I am not : Thofe that 
 have been frightened will tell you, that as foon as they could 
 recollect theinfelves, that is, make ufe of their reafon, their 
 apprehenfion was conquered. But this is notonqueft at all, 
 for in a flight the danger was either altogether imaginary, or 
 elfe it is pall by that tune they can make ufe of their reafon; 
 and therefore if they find there is no danger, it is no wonder 
 that they mould not apprehend any : but, when the danger 
 is permanent, let them then make ufe of their reafon, and 
 they will find that it may ferve them to examine the great- 
 nefs and reality of the danger, and that, if they find it lefs 
 than they imagined, the apprehenfion will be lefTened ac- 
 cordingly ; but, it" the danger proves real, and the fame in 
 every circumilance as they took it to be at firft, then their 
 reafon, iniiead of dirniniming, will rather increafe their ap- 
 prehenfion. While this fear falls, no creature can fight of- 
 fenhvely ; and yet we fee brutes daily fight obilinately, and 
 worry one another to death ; fo that fome other paflion mull 
 "be able to overcome this fear, and the moil contrary to it is 
 
LINE 32I. 119 
 
 anger : which, to trace to the bottom, I mud beg leave to 
 make another digreffion. 
 
 No creature can fubfift without food, nor any fpecies of 
 them (I fpeak of the more perfect animals) continue long 
 unlefs young ones are continually born as fait as the old ones 
 die. Therefore the firft and fierceft appetite that nature has 
 given them is hunger, the next is luft ; the one promoting 
 them to procreate, as the other bids them eat. Now, if we 
 obferve that anger is that paffion which is railed in us when 
 we are crofled or diiturbed in our delires, and that, as it fums 
 up all the ftrength in creatures, fo it was given them, that 
 by it they might exert themfelves more vigourouily in en- 
 deavouring to remove, overcome, or deitroy whatever ob- 
 ftructs them in the purfuit of felf prefervation ; we fhall 
 find that brutes, unlefs themfelves or what they love, or the 
 liberty of either are threatened or attacked, have nothing 
 worth notice that can move them to anger, but hunger or 
 luft. It is they that make them more fierce, for we muft 
 obferve, that the appetites of creatures are as actually crofled, 
 while they want and cannot meet with what they defire 
 (though perhaps with lefs violence) as when hindered fiom 
 enjoying what they have in view. What I have faid will 
 appear more plainly, if we but mind what nobody can be 
 ignorant of, which is this : all creatures upon earth live either 
 upon the fruits and product of it, or elfe the fiefn of. other 
 animals, their fellow-creatures. The latter, which we call 
 beafts of prey, nature has armed accordingly, and given them 
 weapons and ftrength to overcome and tear afunder thofe 
 whom fhe has deligned for their food, and likewife a much 
 keener appetite than to other animals that live upon 
 herbs, &c. For, as to the firft, if a cow loved mutton 
 as well as fhe does grafs, being made as fhe is, and having 
 no claws or talons, and but one row of teeth before, that 
 are all of an equal length, fhe would be ftarved even 
 among a flock of fheep. Secondly, as to their voraci- 
 oufnefs, if experience did not teach us, our reafon might : 
 in the firft place, it is highly probable, that the hunger 
 which can make a creature fatigue,' harafs and expofe him- 
 felf to danger for every bit he eats, is more piercing than 
 that which only bids him eat what itands before him, and 
 which he may have for ftooping down. In the fecond, it is 
 to be confidered, that as beafts of prey have an inftincf by 
 which thev learn to crave, trace, and difcover thofe creatures 
 
 u 
 
120 REMARKS, 
 
 that are good food for them ; fo the others have likewife an 
 inilincl that teaches them to fhun, conceal themfelves, and 
 run away from thofe that hunt after them : from hence it 
 muft follow, that beads of prey, though they could almoil 
 eat forever, go yet more often with empty bellies than other 
 creatures, whofe victuals neither fly from nor oppofe them. 
 This muft perpetuate as well as increafe their hunger, which 
 hereby becomes a conftant fuel to their anger 
 
 If you afk me what flirs up this anger in bulls and cocks 
 that will fight to death, and yet are neither animals of prey, 
 nor very voracious, I anfwer, lull. Thofe creatures, whofe 
 rage proceeds from hunger, both male and female, attack 
 every thing they can mailer, and fight obiiinateiy againft 
 all : But the animals, whofe fury is provoked by a venereal 
 ferment, being generally males, exert themfelves chiefly 
 againft other males of the fame fpecies. They may do mif- 
 chief by chance to other creatures ; but the main objecls of 
 their hatred are their rivals, and it is againft them only that 
 their prowefs and fortitude are fhown. We fee likewife in 
 all thofe creatures, of which the male is able to fatisfy a great 
 number of females, a more considerable fuperiority in the 
 male, expreffed by nature in his make and features, as well 
 as fiercenefs, than is obferved in other creatures, where the 
 male is contented with one or two females. Dogs, though 
 become domeilic animal?, are ravenous to a proverb, and 
 thofe of them that will fight being carnivorous, would foon 
 become beafts of prey, if not fed by us ; what we may ob- 
 ferve in them is an ample proof of what I have hitherto ad- 
 vanced. Thofe of a true fighting breed, being voracious 
 creatures, both male and female, will fallen upon any thing, 
 and fuffer themfelves to be killed before they give over. As 
 the female is rather more falacious than the male ; fo there 
 is no difference in their make at all, what diilmguifhes the 
 fexes excepted, and the female is rather the fiercefl of the 
 two. A bull is a terrible creature when he is kept up, but 
 where he has twenty or more cows to range among, in a 
 little time he" will become as tame as any of them, and a 
 dozen hens will fpoil the bell game cock in England. Harts 
 and deers are counted chafle and timorous creatures, and fo 
 indeed they are almoil ail the year long, except in rutting 
 time, and then on a fudden they become bold to admiration, 
 and often make at the keepers themfelves. 
 
 That the influence of thofe two principal appetites, hun- 
 ger and lull, upon the temper of animals, is not fo whimfical 
 
LINE 321. 121 
 
 as fome may imagine, may be partly demonftrated from what 
 is obiervabie in ourielves ; for, though our hunger is infi- 
 nitely leis violent than that oY wolves and other ravenous 
 creatures, yet we fee that people who are in health, and have 
 a tolerable ftomach, are more fretful, and fooner put out of 
 humour for trifles when they ftay for their victuals beyo id 
 their ufual hours, than at any other time. And again, 
 though luft in man is not fo raging as it is in bulls, and other 
 falacious creatures, yet nothing provokes men and women 
 both fooner, and more violently to anger, than what croffes 
 their amours, when they are heartily in love ; and the molt 
 fearful and tenderly educated of either lex, have flighted the 
 greateft dangers, and fet aiide all other confiderations, to 
 compafs the deftruction of a rival. 
 
 Hitherto I have endeavoured to demonftrate, that no crea- 
 ture can fight offensively as long as his fear lafts ; that fear 
 cannot be conquered but by another paihon ; that the moft 
 contrary to it, and moil effectual to overcome it, is anger; 
 that the two principal appetites which, difappointed, can ftir 
 up this laft-named pafiion, are hunger and luft, and that, in 
 all brute beaits, the pronenefs to anger and obftinacy in light- 
 ing, generally depend upon the violence of either or both 
 thole appetites together : From whence it muft follow, that 
 what we call prowefs, or natural courage in creatures, is no- 
 thing, but the effect of anger, and that all fierce animals muft 
 be either very ravenous, or very luftful, if not both. 
 
 Let us how examine what by this rule we ought to judge 
 of our own fpecies. From the tendernefs of man's fkin, and 
 the great care that is required for years together to rear 
 him ; from the make of his jaws, the evennefs of his teeth, 
 the breadth of his nails, and the flightnefs of both, it is not 
 probable that nature mould have defigned him for rapine ; 
 for this reafon his hunger is not voracious as it is in beafts of 
 ^prey ; neither is he fo falacious as other animals that are 
 called fo, and beiug befides very induftrious to fupply his 
 wants, he can have no reigning appetite to perpetuate his 
 anger, and mi-rfc confequently be a timorous animal. 
 
 What I have faid laft muft only be underftood of man in 
 his ravage ftate ; for, if we examine him as a member of a 
 fociety, and a taught animal, we fhall find him quite ano- 
 ther creature : As loon as his pride has room to play, and 
 envy, avarice, and ambition begin to catch hold of him, he 
 is roufed from his natural innocence and ftupidity. As his 
 
122 REMARKS, 
 
 knowledge increafes, his deiires are enlarged, and ccnfe- 
 quendy his wants and appetites are multiplied : Hence it 
 mult follow, that he will often be crofled in the purfuit of 
 them, and meet with abundance more difappointment to 
 ilir up his anger in this than his former condition, and man 
 would in a little time become the moft hurtful and obnoxious 
 creature in the world, if let alone, whenever he could over- 
 power his adverfary, if he had no mifchief to fear but from 
 the peribn that angered him. 
 
 The hrft care, therefore, of all governments is, by fevere 
 puniihments to curb his anger when it does hurt, and fo, by 
 increasing his fears, prevent the mifchief it might produce. 
 When various laws to reftrain him from uiing force are 
 firicfly executed, felf-prefervation muft teach him to be 
 peaceable ; and, as it is every body's- bufmefs to be as little 
 disturbed as is poflible, his fears will be continually augment- 
 ed and enlarged as he advances in experience, underliand- 
 ing, and forefight. The confequence of this muft be, that 
 as the provocations he will receive to anger will be infinite 
 in the civilized flate, fo his fears to damp it will be the fame, 
 and thus, in a little time, he will be taught by his fears to 
 deftroy his anger, and by art to confult, in an oppolite me- 
 thod, the feme felf-prefervation for which nature before had 
 furnifhed him with anger, as well as the reft of his pafhons. 
 
 The only ufeful pafficn, then, that man is pollened of to- 
 ward the peace and quiet of a fociety, is his fear, and the 
 more you work upon it the more orderly and governable 
 he will be ; for how ufeful foever anger may be to man, as 
 he is a lingle creature by himfelf, yet the fociety has no 
 manner of occalion for it: But nature being always the 
 fame, in the formation of animals, produces all creatures as 
 like to thole that beget and bear them, as the place lhe forms 
 them in, and the various influences from without, will give 
 her leave; and confequently all men, whether they are born 
 in courts or foreils, are fufceptible of anger. When this 
 paffion overcomes (as among all degrees of people it fome- 
 times does) the whole let of fears man has, he has true cou- 
 rage, and will fight as boldly as a lion or a tiger, and at no 
 other time ; and I fhall endeavour to prove, that whatever 
 is called courage in man, when he is not angry, is fpurious 
 and artificial. 
 
 It is poflible, by good government, to keep a fociety al- 
 ways quiet in itfelf, but nobody can ewfure peace from without 
 
LINE 32I. I23 
 
 for ever. The fociety may have occafion to extend their 
 limits farther, and enlarge their territories, 
 invade theirs, or forne thing elie will happen that man mud 
 be brought to fight ; for how civilized foever men may be, 
 they never forget that force goes beyond reafon : The poli- 
 tician now mml; alter his meafures, and take off iom 
 man's fears ; he mult drive to periuade him, that all •■- : 
 was told him before of the barbarity of killing men ceal 
 foon as thefe men are enemies to the public, and ; 
 adverfaries are neither fo good nor fo ftrong as the I 
 Theie things well managed will ieldom fail of drawing 
 hardieu, the moil quarreiibme, and the mo *vous m 
 
 to combat ; but unlefs they are better qualified, I will not 
 anfver for their behaviour there: If once you can make 
 them undervalue their enemies, you may foon iiir them up 
 to anger, and while that lads they will fight with greater ob- 
 ftinacy than any difciplined troops : But if any thing hap- 
 pens that was unforefeen, and a fudden great nolle, a tem- 
 ped, or any drange or uncommon accident that feems to 
 threaten them, intervenes, fear feizes them, diiarms then- 
 anger, and makes them run away to a man. 
 
 This natural courage, therefore, as foon as people begin 
 to have more wit, mud 'be foon exploded. In the full 
 place, thofe that have felt the fmart of the enemy's blows,' 
 will not always believe what is faid to undervalue him, and 
 are often not eaiily provoked to anger. Secondly, a 
 confiding in an ebullition of the fpirits, is a padion of 1 
 long continuance {ira furor, brevis eft), and the enemies, if 
 they witliixand the flrd fnock of theie angry people, 
 commonly the better of it. Thirdly, as long as people are 
 angry, all counfel and difcipline are lod upon them, and 
 they can never be brought to ufe art or conduct in their 
 battles. Anger then, without which no creature has natu- 
 ral courage, being altogether ufelefs in a war to be managed 
 by dratagem, and brought into a regular art, the govern- 
 ment mud find out an equivalent for courage that will make 
 men fight. 
 
 Whoever would civilize men, and edablifn them into a 
 body politic, mud be thoroughly acquainted with all the 
 padions and appetites, ftrength and weaknefTes of their 
 frame, and underdand how to turn their greated frailties to 
 the advantage of the public. In the Inquiry into the Origin 
 .oral Virtue^ I have diown howeafily men were mauced 
 
124 REMARKS. 
 
 to believe any thing that is faid in their praife. If, there- 
 £oyq, a lawgiver or politician, whom they have a great vene- 
 ration for, mould tell them, that the generality of men had 
 within them a principle of valour diftincl from anger, or any 
 other paffion, that made them to defpife danger, and face 
 death itfelf with intrepidity, and that they who had the moil 
 of it were the moil valuable of their kind, it is very likely, 
 confidering what has been faid, that mod of them, though 
 they felt nothing of this principle, would fwallow it for truth, 
 and that the proudeft, feeling themfelves moved at this piece 
 of flattery, and not well verfed in diftinguiihing the paflions, 
 might imagine that they felt it heaving in their breads, by 
 rniilakmg pride for courage. If but one in ten can be per- 
 fuaded openly to declare, that he is poiTeiTed of this prin- 
 ciple, and maintain it againft all gainfayers, there will foon 
 be half a dozen that mall aifert the fame. Whoever has 
 once owned it is engaged, the politician has nothing to do 
 but to take all imaginable care to flatter the pride of thofe 
 that brag of, and are willing to fiand by it a thoufand differ- 
 ent ways : The fame pride that drew him in hid will ever 
 after oblige him to defend the aifertion, till at lad the fear of 
 difcovering the reality of his heart, comes to be fo great, 
 that it outdoes the fear of death itfelf. Do but increafe 
 man's pride, and his fear of fhame will ever be proportioned 
 to it : for the greater value a man fets upon himfelf, the more 
 pains he will take, and the greater hardships he will under- 
 go, to avoid fhame. 
 
 The great art to make man courageous, is fird to make 
 him own this principle of valour within, and afterwards to in- 
 fpire him with as much horror againft fhame, as nature has 
 given him againd death ; and that there are things to which 
 man has, or may have, a dronger averfion than he has to 
 death, is evident from filicide. He that makes death his 
 choice, mud look upon it as lefs terrible than what he fhuns 
 by it j for whether the evil dreaded be prefent or to come, 
 real or imaginary, nobody would kill himfelf wilfully but to 
 avoid fomething. Lucretia held out bravely againd all the 
 attacks of the ravifher, even when he threatened her life ; 
 which mows thatfhe valued her virtue beyond it: but when 
 he threatened her reputation with eternal infamy, die fairly 
 furrendered, and then flew herfelf ; a certain fign that fhe 
 valued her virtue lefs than her glory, and her life lefs than 
 either. The fear of death did not make her yield, for fhe 
 4 
 
LINE 32I. I25 
 
 refolved to die before fhe did it, and her compliance muft 
 only be confidered as a bribe, to make Tarquin forbear ful- 
 lying her reputation ; fo that life had neither the firft nor 
 fecond place in the efteem of Lucretia. The courage, then, 
 which is only ufeful to the body politic, and what is general- 
 ly called true valour, is artificial, and confifts in a fuperlative 
 horror againfl fhame, by flattery infufed into men of exalted 
 pride. 
 
 As foon as the notions of honour and fhame are received 
 among a fociety, it is not difficult to make men fight. Firft, 
 take care they are perfuaded of the juftice of their caufe ; 
 for no man fights heartily ( that thinks himfelf in the 
 wrong ; then fliow them that their altars, their pofTeilions, 
 wives, children, and every thing that is near and dear to 
 them, is concerned in the prefent quarrel, or at lead may be 
 influenced by it hereafter ; then put feathers in their caps, 
 and diftinguifh them from others, talk of public-fpiritednefs, 
 the love of their country, facing an enemy with intrepidity, 
 defpifing death the bed of honour, and fuch like high-found- 
 ing words, and every proud man will take up arms and fight 
 himfelf to death before we will turn tail, if it be by daylight. 
 One man in an army is a check upon another, and a hun- 
 dred of them, that fingle and without witnefs, would be all 
 coward's, are, for fear of incurring one another's contempt, 
 made valiant by being together. To continue and heighten 
 this artificial courage, all that run away ought to be punifh- 
 ed with ignominy ; thofe that fought well, whether they did 
 beat or were beaten, muft -be flattered and folemnly com- 
 mended ; thofe that loll their limbs rewarded ; and thofe that 
 were killed, ought, above all to be taken notice of, artfully 
 lamented, and to have extraordinary encomiums bellowed 
 upon them ; for to pay honours to the dead, will ever be a 
 fure method to make bubbles of the living. 
 
 When I fay, that the courage made uie of in the wars is 
 artificial, I do not imagine that by the fame art, all men may 
 be made equally valiant : as men have not an equal fhare of 
 pride, and differ from one another in ihape and inward 
 itruclure, it is impoflible they fhouid be all equally fit for the 
 fame ufes, Some men will never be able to learn mufic, 
 and yet make good mathematicians ; others will play excel- 
 lently well upon the violin, and yet be coxcombs as long as 
 they live,, let them converfe with whom they pleafe. But to 
 fbow that there is no evaiion, I fhall prove, that fetting afide 
 
126 REMARKS. 
 
 what I faicl of artificial courage already, what the greater! 
 heroe differs in from the ranked coward, is altogether corpo- 
 real, and depends upon the inward make of man. What I 
 mean is called conftitution ; by which is xmderflood the or- 
 derly or diforderly mixture of the fluids in our body : that 
 conftitution which favours courage, confifts in the natural 
 ftfngth, elafucity, and due contexture of the finer fpirits, 
 and upon them wholly depends what we call fledfailnefs, re- 
 folution, and obilinacy. It is the only ingredient that is 
 common to natural and artificial bravery, and is to either 
 what fize is to white walls, which hinders them from coming 
 off, and makes them Jailing. That fome people are very 
 much, others very little frightened at things that are Arrange 
 and fudden to them, is like wife altogether owing to the firm- 
 nefs or imbecility in the tone of the fpirits. Pride is of no 
 ufe in a fright, becaufe while it lafts we cannot think, which,, 
 being counted a difgrace, is the realbn people is always 
 angry with any thing that frightens them, as foon as the fur- 
 prife is over; and when at the turn of a battle the conque- 
 rors give no quarter, and are very cruel, it is a fign their ene- 
 mies fought well, and had put them fir ft into great fears. 
 
 That refolution depends upon this tone of the fpirits, ap- 
 pears likewife from the effects offtrong liquors, the fiery par- 
 ticles whereof crowding into the brain, ftrengthen the* fpirits; 
 their operation imitates that of anger, which 1 laid before 
 was an ebullition of the fpirits. It is for this reafon, that 
 moil people when they are in drink, are fooner touched and 
 more prone to anger*, than at other times, and fome raving 
 mad without, any provocation at all. It is likewife obferved, 
 that brandy makes men more quarrelfome at the fame pitch 
 of drunkennefs than wine; becaufe the fpirits of diftilled 
 waters have abundance of fiery particles mixed with them, 
 which the other has not. The contexture of fpirits is fo 
 weak in fome, that though they have pride enough, no art 
 can ever make them fight, or overcome their fears; but this 
 is a defeel in the principle of the fluids, as other deformities 
 are faults of the folids. Thefe pufillanimous people, are ne- 
 ver thoroughly provoked to anger, where there is any danger, 
 and drinking makes them bolder, but feldom fo refolute as 
 to attack any, uniefs they be women or children, or fuch who 
 they know dare not reiiit. This conflitution is often influ- 
 enced by health and ficknefs, and impaired by great loiTes of 
 blood; femetimes it is corrected by diet ; and it is this which 
 
LINE 321. I27 
 
 the Duke de la Rochefocault means, when he fays ; vanity,' 
 fhame, and above all ccnititution, make up very often the 
 courage of men, and virtue of women. 
 
 There is nothing that more improves the ufeful martial 
 courage I treat of, and at the fame time fhows it to be artifi- 
 cial, than practice ; for when men are difciplined, come to 
 be acquainted with all the tools of death, and engines of de- 
 itruciion, when the fhouts, the outcries, the fire and fmoke, 
 the grones of wounded, and ghoiily looks of dying men, with 
 all the various fcenes of mangled carcafes and bloody limbs 
 tore off, begin to be familiar to them, their fear abate apace; 
 not that they are now lefs afraid to die than before., but being 
 uied fo often to fee the fame dangers, they apprehend the 
 reality of them lefs than they did : as they are defervedly 
 valued for every liege they are at, and every battle they are 
 in, it is impoflible but the feveral actions they iliare in, muft 
 continually become as many folid fteps by which their pride 
 mounts up ; and thus their fear of fhame, as I faid before, will 
 always be proportioned to their pride, increafing as the ap- 
 prehenfion of the danger decreafes, it is no wonder that molt 
 of them learn to difcover little or no fear : and fome great 
 generals are able to preferve a prefence of mind,-and coun- 
 terfeit a calm ferenity within the midit of all the noife, hor- 
 ror, and confurlon, that attend a battle. 
 
 So liliy a creature is man, as that, intoxicated with the 
 fumes of vanity, he can feair. on the thoughts of the praifes 
 that fhall be paid his memory in future ages, with fo much 
 ecflacy, as to neglect his prefent life, nay, court and covet 
 death, if he but imagines that it will add to the glory he had 
 acquired before. There is no pitch of feif- denial, that a man 
 of pride and confutation cannot reach, nor any paflion fo 
 violent but he will facrifice it to another, which is fuperior 
 to it ; and here 1 cannot but admire at the fimphcity of 
 fome good men, who, when they hear of the joy and alacrity 
 with which holy men in perfections have fullered for their 
 fakh, imagine that fuch constancy mult exceed all human 
 force, unlefs it' was fupported by fome miraculous afliitance 
 from Heaven. As molt people are willing to acknowledge 
 all the frailties of their fpecies, fo they are unacquainted with 
 the itrength of our nature, and know not that fome men of 
 firm conflitution may work thernfelves up into enthuiiaim, 
 by no other help than the violence of their pailions; yet, it 
 is certain, that there have bc:n men who en. 7 aiiiiled with 
 
128 REMARKS. 
 
 pride and conftitution to maintain the worfl of canfes, have 
 undergone death and torments, with as much cheerfulnefs as 
 the beft of men, animated with piety and devotion, ever did 
 for the true religion. 
 
 To prove this affertion, I could produce many inflances ; 
 but one or two will be fufficient. Jordanus Bruno of Nola, 
 who wrote that filly piece of blafphemy, called Spaccio delta 
 Bejlia triumphante, and the infamous Vanini, were both exe- 
 cuted for openly profeffing and teaching of atheifm : the lat- 
 ter might have been pardoned the moment before the execu- 
 tion, if he would have retracted his doctrine ; but rather than 
 recant, he chofe to be burnt to afhes. As he went to the 
 flake, he was fo far from mowing any concern, that he held 
 his hand out to a phyfician whom he happened to know, de- 
 firing him to judge of the calmnefs. of his mind by the regu- 
 larity of his pulfe, and from thence taking an opportunity of 
 making an impious companion, uttered a fentence too exe- 
 crable to be mentioned. To thefe we may join one Maho- 
 met Effendi, who, as Sir Paul Ricaut tells us, was put to 
 death at Conitantinople, for having advanced fome notions 
 againft the exiftence of a God. He likewife might have faved 
 his life by confeiling his error, and renouncing it for the fu- 
 ture ; but chofe rather to perfift in his blaiphemies, faying, 
 " Though he had no reward to expect, the love of truth 
 " conftrained him to fuffer martyrdom in its defence. 
 
 1 have made this digreffion chiefly to mow the ftrength of 
 human nature, and what mere man may perform by pride 
 and conftitution alone-. Man may certainly be as violently 
 roufed by his vanity, as a lion is by his anger; and not only 
 this, avarice, revenge, ambition, and almoft every paffion, 
 pity not excepted, when they arc extraordinary, may, by 
 overcoming fear, ferve him inftead of valour, and be miftaken 
 for it even by himfelf ; as daily experience muft teach every 
 body that will examine and look into the motives from which 
 fome men act. But that we may more clearly perceive what 
 this pretended principle is really built upon, let us look into 
 the management of military affairs, and we mail find that 
 pride is no where fo openly encouraged as there. As for 
 clothes, the very loweic of the com million officers have them 
 richer, or at ieaft more gay and fplendid, than are generally 
 wore by other people of four or five times their income. 
 Molt of them, and efpecially thofe that have families, and can 
 hardly fubfift, would be very glad, all Europe over, to be lcis 
 
' LINE 321. I29 
 
 expenfive that way ; but it is a force put upon them to up- 
 hold their pride, which they do not think on. 
 
 But the ways and means to roufe man's pride, and catch 
 him by it, are nowhere more grofsly confpicuous, than in the 
 treatment which the common foldiers receive, whole vanity 
 is to be worked upon (becaufe there mufi be fo many) at 
 the cheapen: rate imaginable. Things we are accuftomed to 
 we do not mind, or elfe what mortal that never had feeii a 
 foidier, could look without laughing upon a man accoutred 
 with fo much paltry gaudinefs, and affected finery ? The 
 coarfeft manufacture that can be made of wool, dyed of a 
 brickduil colour, goes down with him, becaufe it is in imita- 
 tion of fcarlet or cnrnion cloth ; and to make him think 
 himfelf as like his officer as it is poifible, with little or no coil, 
 inftead of filver or gold lace, his hat is trimmed with white 
 or yellow wonted, which in others would deferve bedlam ; 
 yet thefe fine allurements, and the noife made upon a c 
 ikin, have drawn in, and been the den ruction of more men m 
 reality, than all the killing eyes and bewitching voices of 
 women ever flew in jefL To-day the fwine herd puts on his 
 red coat, and believes every body in earneit that calls him 
 gentleman ; and two days after Serjeant Kite gives him a 
 fwinging wrap with his cane, for holding his mulket an inch 
 higher than he mould do. As to the real dignity of the em- 
 ployment, in the two lafl wars, officers, when recruits were 
 wanted, were allowed to lift fellows that were convicted of 
 burglary and other capital crimes, which ihows that to be 
 made a foidier is deemed to be a preferment next to hang- 
 ing. A trooper is yet worfe than a foot foidier ; for when 
 he is moil at eafe, he has the mortification of being groom 
 to a horfe, that fpends more money than himfelf. W hen a 
 man reflects on all this, the ufage they generally receive from. 
 their officers, their pay, and the care that is taken of them, 
 when they are not wanted, mult he not wonder how wretches 
 can be fo filly as to be proud of being called gentlemen fol- 
 diers? Yet if there were not, no art, dicipime, or money, 
 would be capptbie of making them fo brave as thouiands of 
 them are. 
 
 If we will mind what effects man's bravery, without any 
 
 other qualifications to fweeten him, would have out of an 
 
 army, we fliall find that it would be very pernicious to the 
 
 civil feciety ; for if man could conquer ail his fears, you 
 
 ild hear of nothing but rapes, murders, and violences of 
 
 K 
 
*3 C REMARKS. 
 
 all forts, and valiant men would be like giants in romances : 
 politics, therefore, discovered in men a mixed-metal princi- 
 ple, which was a compound of jiulice, honeily, and all the 
 moral virtues joined to courage, and all that were pofTefTed 
 of it turned knights-errant of courfe. They did abundance of 
 good throughout the world, by taming monfters, delivering 
 the diitreiied, and killing the oppreffors : but the wings of 
 all the dragons being clipped, the giants deftroyed, and the 
 damfels every where fet at liberty, except fome few in Spain 
 and Italy, who remained frill captivated by their monfters, 
 the order of chivalry, to whom the flandard of ancient ho- 
 nour belonged, has been laid aiide fome time. It was like 
 their armours very mafTy and heavy ; the many virtues a- 
 bout it made it very troublefome, and as ages grew wifer 
 and wifer, the principle of honour in the beginning of the 
 lad century was melted over again, and brought to a new 
 ilandard ; they put in the fame weight of courage, half the 
 quantity of honeilv, and a very little juftice, but not a fcrap 
 of any other virtue, which has made it very e^fy and porta- 
 ble to what it was. However, fueh as it is, there would be 
 no living without it in a large nation ; it is the tie ul ibciety, 
 and thou,: i to our frailties for the chief in- 
 
 gredient of it, there is j. •. at leaft that I am acquaint- 
 
 ed with, that has been half 10 rnftrurnental to the civilizing 
 of mankind, who in great focieties would foon degenerate 
 into cruel villians and treacherous ilaves, were honour to be 
 cd from among them. 
 As to the duelling part which belongs to it, I pity the un- 
 fortunate whofe lot it is ; but to fay, that thofe who are 
 guilty of it go by falfe rules, or miftake the notions of ho- 
 nour, is ridiculous ; for either there is no honour at all, or it 
 teaches men to refent injuries, and accept of challenges. 
 You may as well deny that it is the fafhion what you fee 
 y body wear, as to fay that demanding and giving fatif- 
 faction is againft the laws of true honour. Thofe that rail 
 at duelling do not eonfider the benefit the iociety receives 
 from that fafhion : if every ill-bred fellow might ufe what 
 language he pleafed, without being called to an account for 
 it, all conversation would be fpoiied. Some grave people 
 tell us, that the Greeks and Romans were fucta valiant men, 
 and yet knew nothing of duelling but in their country's 
 quarrel. This is very true, but, for that reafon, the kings 
 and princes in Homer gave one another worfe language than 
 
LIN.E 321. I31 
 
 our porters and hackney coachmen would be able to bear 
 without reientment. 
 
 Would you hinder duelling, pardon nobody that offends 
 that way, and make the laws as fevere as you can, but do 
 not take away the thing itfelf, the cuftom of it. This will 
 not only prevent the frequency of it, but hkewife, by render- 
 ing the moil refolute and molt powerful cautious and cir- 
 cumfpect in their behaviour, poliiii and brighten fociety in 
 general. Nothing civilizes a man equally as his fear, and if 
 not all (as my lord Rochefter laid), at leait moil men would 
 be cowards if they duril. The dread of being called to an ac- 
 count keeps abundance in awe ; and there are thouiands of 
 mannerly and well-accompliihed gentlemen in Europe, who 
 would have been jnfolent and infupportable coxcombs with- 
 out it : befides, if it was out of iaihion to afk fatisfa&ion 
 for injuries which the law cannot take hold of, there would 
 be twenty times the mifchief done there is now, or elfe you 
 mult have twenty times the comtables and other officers to 
 keep the peace. I confers that though it happens but fel- 
 dom, it is a calamity to the people, and generally the fami- 
 lies it falls upon ; but there can be no perfect happinefs in 
 this world, and all felicity lias an allay. The act itfelf is 
 uncharitable, but when above thirty in a nation deitroy 
 themfelves in one year, and not half that number are killed 
 by others, I do not think the people can be faid to love 
 their neighbours worfe than themfelves. It is ftrange that a 
 nation mould grudge to fee, perhaps, half-a-dozen men fa- 
 crificed in a twelvemonth to obtain ib valuable a blefling, 
 as the politenefs of manners, the pleafure of converfation, 
 and the happinefs of company in general, that is often lb 
 willing to expoie, and fometimes loies as many thouiands in 
 a few hours, without knowing whether it will do any good 
 or not. 
 
 I would have nobody that reflects on the mean original of 
 honour, complain of being gulled and made a property by 
 cunning politicians, but deiire every body to be fatisfied, 
 that the governors of focieties, and thofe in highilations, are 
 greater bubbles to pride than any of the reft. If Tome great 
 men had not a fuperlative pride, and every body undericood 
 the enjoyment of life, who would be a lord chancellor of 
 England, a prime minuter of hate in France, or what gives 
 more fatigue, and not a iixth part of the profit of either, 
 a grand peniionary of Holland ? The reciprocal fervices 
 
 K 2 
 
I32 REMARKS. 
 
 which all men pay to one another, are the foundation of the 
 fociety. The great ones are not flattered with their high, 
 birth for nothing: it is to roufe their pride, and excite them 
 to glorious actions, that we extol their race, whether it de- 
 fences it or not ; and fome men have been complimented 
 with the greatnefs of their family, and the merit of their an- 
 ceftors, when in the whole generation you could not find 
 two but what were uxorious fools, filly biggots, noted pol- 
 trons, or debauched whore-mafters* The eitablifhed pride 
 that is infeparable from thofe that are poiTeiTed of titles al- 
 ready, makes them often drive as much not to feem unwor- 
 thy of them, as the working ambition of others that are yet 
 without, renders them induftrious and indefatigable to de- 
 ferve them. When a gentleman is made a baron or an earl, 
 it is as great a check upon him in many refpects, as a gown 
 and caifock are to a young ftudent that has been newly taken 
 into orders. 
 
 The only thing of weight that can be faid againft modern 
 honour is, that it is directly oppofite to religion. The one 
 bids you bear injuries with patience ; the other tells you if 
 you do not refent them, you are not fit to live. Religion com- 
 mands you to leave all revenge to God ; honour bids you trufl 
 your revenge to nobody but yourfelf, even where the law 
 would do it for you : religion plainly forbids murder; honour 
 openly juflifies it : religion bids you not fhed blood upon any 
 account whatever ; honour bids you fight for the lead trifle: 
 religion is built on humility, and honour upon pride : how 
 to reconcile them muft be left to wifer heads than mine. 
 
 The reafon why there are fb few men of real virtue, and 
 fo many of real honour, is, becauie all the recompence a man 
 has of a virtuous action, is the pleafure of doing it, which 
 moll people reckon but poor pay ; but the felf denial a man 
 of honour fubmits to in one appetire,is immediately reward- 
 ed by the fatisfadtion he receive^ from another, and what he 
 abates of his avarice, or any other paffion, is doubly repaid 
 to his pride : beiides, honour gives large grains of allowance, 
 and virtue none. A man of honour muft not cheat or tell 
 a lie ; he muit punctually repay what he borrows at play , though 
 the creditor has nothingto fhbw for it; but he may drink, and 
 fwear and owe money to all the tradefmen in town, without 
 taking notice of their dunning. A man of honour muit be true 
 to his prince and country, while he is in their fervice ; but if 
 
LINE 321 & 353. ,133 
 
 he thinks himfelf not well ufed, he may quit it, and do them 
 all the mifchief he can A man of honour muft never 
 change his religion for intereft ; but he may be as debauched 
 as he pleafes, and never praclife any. He mufl make no at- 
 tempts upon his friend's wife, daughter, lifter, or any body 
 that is trufted to his care ; but he may lie with all the world 
 befides. 
 
 Line 353. No limner for his art is fam'd, 
 
 Stone-cutters, carvers are not nam'd. 
 
 lr is, without doubt, that among the confequences of a 
 national honefty and frugality, it would be one not to build 
 any new houfes, or ufe new materials as long as there were 
 old ones enough to ferve. By this three parts in four, of 
 mafons, carpenters, bricklayers, &c. would want employ- 
 ment ; and the building trade being once defiroyed, what 
 would become of limning, carving, and other arts that are 
 miniftering to luxury, and have been carefully forbid by 
 thofe lawgivers that preferred a good and honed, to a great 
 and wealthy fociety, and endeavoured to render their fub- 
 jecls rather virtuous than rich. By a law of Lycuigus, it 
 was enacted, that the cielings of the Spartan houfes mould 
 only be wrought by the ax, and their gates and doors only 
 fmoothed by the faw ; and this, fays Plutarch, was not 
 without myftery : for if Epaminondas could fay with fo 
 good a grace, inviting fomeof his friends to his table; " Come, 
 " gentlemen, be fecure, treafon would never come to fuch 
 " a poor dinner as this :" Why might not this great lawgiver, 
 in all probability, have thought that fuch ill-favoured 
 houfes would never be capable of receiving luxury and 
 fuperfluity ? 
 
 It is reported, as the fame author tells us, that Leotichidas, 
 the firft of that name, was fo little ufed to the fight of carved 
 work, that being entertained at Corinth in a irately room, 
 he was much furprifed to fee the timber and ceiling fo finely 
 wrought, and aiked his holt whether the trees grew fo in 
 his country. 
 
 The fame want of employment would reach innumerable 
 callings ; and, among the reft, that of the 
 
 Weavers that join'd rich (ilk with plate, 
 And all the trades fubordinate, 
 
 k 3 
 
IJ4 REMARKS. 
 
 (as the fable has it) would be one of the firft that mould 
 have reafon to complain ; for the puce of land and houfes 
 being, by the removal of the vail numbers that had left the 
 hive, funk very low on the one fide, and every body abhor- 
 ring all other ways of gain, but fuch as were ftrictly honefl 
 on the other, it is not probable that many without pride or 
 prodigality mould be able to wear cloth of gold and filver, 
 or rich brocades. The confequence of which would be, that 
 not only the weaver, but likewife the filver-fpinner, the 
 flatter, the wire-drawer, the bar-man, ajid'the refiner, would, 
 in a little time be affected with this frugality. 
 
 Line 367. — To live great, 
 
 Had made her hufoand rob the ftate. 
 
 V\ hat our common rogues, when they are going to be 
 hanged, chiefly complain of, as the caufe of their untimely 
 end, is, next to the neglect of the Sabbath, their having 
 kept company with ill women, meaning whores ; and I do 
 not queflion, but that among theleffer villains, many venture 
 their necks to indulge and fatisfy their low amours. But 
 the words that have given occafion to this remark, may 
 ierve to hint to us, that among the great ones, men are often 
 put upon fuch dangerous projects, and forced into fuch per- 
 nicious meafures by their wives, as the moft fubtle miftrefs 
 never could have perfuaded them to. I have Ihown already, 
 that the worn: of women, and mod profligate of the fex, did 
 contribute to the confumption of fupernuities, as well as the 
 Decenaries of life, and confequently were beneficial to many 
 peaceable drudges, that work hard to maintain their fami- 
 lies, and have no worfe defign than an honeit livelihood. 
 Let them be banifhed, notwithstanding, fays a good man : 
 'When every {trumpet is gone, and the land wholly freed 
 from lewdnefs, God Almighty will pour fuch blellings upon 
 it, as will vaftly exceed the profits that are now got by har- 
 lots. This perhaps would be true ; but I can make it evi- 
 dent, that, with or without proititutes, nothing could make 
 amends, For the detriment trade would fuftain, if all thofe of 
 that lex, who enjoy the happy ftate of matrimony, fhould 
 acl and behave LtiemfelVes as a ibber wife man could wilh 
 them. 
 
 The variety of work that is performed, and the number 
 of hands employed to gratify the licklenefs and luxury of 
 
LINE 367. 135 
 
 women, is prodigious, and if only the married ones mould 
 hearken to reafonandjuftremonftrances, think themfelves fufi- 
 ficiently anfwered with the firft refufal, and never afk a fecond 
 time what had been once denied them : If, I fay, married wq T 
 men would do this, and then- lay out no money but what their 
 hufbands knew, and freely allowed of, the confumptibn of 
 a thoufand things, they now make ufe of, would be lefTen- 
 ed by at lead. a fourth part. Let us go from houfe to houfe, 
 and qbferve the way of the world only among the middling 
 people, creditable fhop keepers, that fpend two or three 
 hundred a-year, and we mall find the women when they 
 have half a fcore fuits of clothes, two or three of them not 
 the worfe for wearing, will think it a fufficient plea for new 
 ones, if they can fay that they have never a gown or 
 petticoat, but what they have been often feen in, and are 
 known by, efpecially at church ; I do not fpeak now of 
 profufe extravagant women, but inch as are counted pru- 
 dent and moderate in their defires. 
 
 If by this pattern we mould in proportion judge of the 
 higheft ranks, where the richer!: clothes are but a triile to 
 their other expences, and not forget the furniture of all 
 forts, equipages, jewels, and buildings of perfons of quality, 
 we mould find the fourth, part I fpeak of a yafh article in 
 trade, and that the lofs of it would be a greater calamity to 
 fuch a nation as ours, than it is poflible to conceive any 
 other, a raging peitilence not excepted : for the death of 
 half a million of people could not caufe a tenth part of the 
 diiturbance to the kingdom, than the fame number of poor 
 unemployed would certainly create, if at once they were to 
 be added to thofe, that already, one way or other, are a 
 burden to the fociety. 
 
 Some few men have a real paflicn for their wives, and are 
 fond of them without referve ; others that do not care, and 
 have little occallon for women, are yet feemingiy usurious, 
 and love out of vanity; they take delight in a handfome 
 wife, as a coxcomb does in a fine horfe, not for the ufe he 
 makes of it, but becaufe it is his : The pleafure lies in the 
 confcioufneis of an uncontroiable poiieinon, and what fol- 
 lows from it, the reflection on the mighty thoughts he ima- 
 gines others to have of his happinefs. The men of either 
 fort may be very laviih to their wives, and often preventing 
 their willies, crowd new clothes, and other finery upon them, 
 falter than they can aik it, but the greater! part are wifer 
 K 4 
 
1 3 6 REMARKS, 
 
 than to indulge the extravagances of their wives fo far, as to 
 give them immediately every thing they are pleafed to fancy. 
 It is incredible what vaft quantity of trinkets, as well as ap- 
 parel, are purchafed and ufed by women, which they could 
 never have come at by any other means, than pinching their 
 families, marketing, and other ways of cheating and pilfer- 
 ing from their hufbands : Others, by ever teazing their 
 fpoufes, tire them into compliance, and conquer even obfti- 
 nate churls by perfeverance, and their affiduity of afking : A 
 third fort are outrageous at a denial, and by downright 
 noife and fcolding, bully their tame fools out of any thing 
 they have a mind to; while thoufands, by the force of wheed- 
 ling, know how to overcome the belt weighed reafons, and 
 the moft pofitive reiterated refufals ; the young and beauti- 
 ful, efpecially, laugh at all remonftrances and denials, and 
 few of them fcruple to employ the moft tender minutes of 
 wedlock to promote a fordid intereft. Here, had I time, I 
 couid inveigh with warmth againft thofe bafe, thofe wicked 
 women, who calmly play their arts and falfe deluding charms 
 againft our ftrength and prudence, and act ihe harlots with 
 their hufbands ! Nay, fhe is worfe than whore, who impi- 
 oully profanes and proftitutes the facred rites of love to vile 
 ignoble ends ; that firlt excites to paffion, and invites to joy 
 with feeming ardour, then racks our fondnefs for no other 
 purpofe than to extort a gift, while full of guile in counter- 
 feited transports, ihe watches for the moment whenmen can 
 leait deny. 
 
 I beg pardon for this ft art out of my way, and defire the 
 experienced reader duly to weigh what has been laid as to 
 the main purpofe, and after that call to mind the temporal 
 bleffings, which men daily hear not only toafted and wifhed 
 for, when people are merry and doing of nothing ; but like- 
 wife gravely and folemnly prayed for in churches, and other 
 religious aflemblies, by clergymen of all forts and fizes : And 
 as foon as he mall have laid thefe things together, and, from 
 what he has oblerved in the common affairs of life, reafoned 
 upon them confequentially without prejudice, I dare flatter 
 myfelf, that he will be obliged to own, that a confiderable 
 portion of what the profperity of London and trade in gene- 
 ral, and confequently the honour, ftrength, fafety, and all' 
 the wordly intereft of the nation conhTt in, depend entirely 
 On the deceit and vile ftratagems of women ; and that hu- 
 mility, content, meeknefs, obedience to reaibirable hufbands. 
 
LINE 367. I37 
 
 frugality, and all the virtues together, if they were pofTefTed 
 of them in the moft eminent degree, could not poffibly be- 
 a thoufandth part fo ferviceable, to make an opulent, power- 
 ful, and what we call a flourifhing kingdom, than their moll 
 hateful qualities. 
 
 I do not queflion, but many of my readers will be ftartled 
 at this aiTertion, when they look on the confequences that 
 may be drawn from it ; and i fhall be afeed, whether 
 people may not as well be virtuous in a populous, rich, wide, 
 extended kingdom, as in a fmail, indigent Hate or principa- 
 lity, that is poorly inhabited? And if that be impoiiible, 
 Whether it is not the duty of all fovereigns to reduce their 
 fubjecls, as to wealth and numbers, as much as they can? 
 If I allow they may, I own myfelf in the wrong ; and if 
 I affirm the other, my tenets will juftly be called impious, or 
 at lead dangerous to all large focieties. As it is not in this 
 place of the book only, but a great many others, that fuch 
 queries might be made even by a well-meaning reader, I fhall 
 here explain myfelf, and endeavour to folve thole difficul- 
 ties, which feveral pafTages might have raifed in him, in or- 
 der to demonftrate the coniiffency of my opinion to reafon, 
 and the itrictefl morality. 
 
 I lay down as a firfl principle, that in all focieties, great 
 or fmall, it is the duty of every member of it to be good, 
 that virtue ought to be encouraged, vice difcountenanced, 
 the laws obeyed, and the tranfgreffors punifhed. After this 
 I affirm, that if weconiult hirlory, both ancient and modern,, 
 and take a view of what has paifed in the world, w 7 e fhall 
 find that human nature, fince the fall of Adam, has always 
 been the fame, and that the ftrength and frailties of it have 
 ever been confpicuous in one part of the globe or other,, 
 without any regard to ages, climates, or religion. I never 
 laid, nor imagined, that man could not be virtuous as well 
 in a rich and mighty kingdom, as in the moil pitiful com- 
 monwealth ; but I own it is my fenfe, that no fociety can be 
 raifed into fuch a rich and mighty kingdom, orfo raifed, fub- 
 fill in their wealth and power for any conliderable time, 
 without the vices of man. 
 
 This, I imagine, is fufhciently proved throughout the book; 
 'and as human nature Hill continues the fame, as it has al- 
 ways been for fo many thoufand years, we have no great 
 reafon to fufpect a future change in it, while the world en- 
 dures, Now, I cannot fee what immorality there is in 
 
IjS REMARKS* 
 
 mowing a man the origin and power of thofe/ pamons, which 
 fo often, even unknowingly to himfelf, hurry him away from 
 his reafon ; or that, there is any impiety in putting him upon 
 his guard a gain if hirnfelf, and the fecret ftratagems of felf- 
 love, and teaching him the difference between fuch actions 
 as proceed from a victory over the paflions, and thofe that 
 are only the remit of a conquefl which one pailion obtains 
 over another ; that is, between real and counterfeited vir- 
 tue. It is an admirable faying of a worthy divine, That 
 though many difcoveries have been made in the world of 
 felf-love, there is yet abundance of terra incognita left be- 
 hind. What hurt do I do to man, if I make him more 
 known to himfelf than he was before? But we are all fo 
 defperately in love with flattery, that we can never relifh a 
 truth that is mortifying, and I do not believe that the im- 
 mortality of the foul, a truth broached long before Chrirli- 
 anity, would have ever found fuch a general reception in 
 human capacities as it has, had it not been a pleating one, 
 that extolled, and was a compliment to the whole fpecies, 
 the meaneft and moil miferabie not excepted. 
 
 Every one lqves to hear the thing well fpoke of that he 
 has a ihare in, even bailiffs, goal-keepers, and the hangman 
 himfelf would have you think well of their functions ; nay, 
 thieves and houfe breakers have a greater regard to thofe of 
 their fraternity, than they have for honeit people ; and I fin- 
 cerely believe, that it is chiefly felf-love that has gained this* 
 little treatife (as it was before the laft impreflion), fo many 
 enemies ; every one looks upon it as an affront done to him- 
 ielf, becaufe it detracts from the dignity, and lefTens the fine 
 ons he bad conceived of mankind, the moil worfliipful 
 company he belongs to. When I fay that focieties cannot 
 be railed to wealth and power, and the top of earthly glory, 
 without vices, I do not think that, by fo faying, I bid men be 
 vicious, any more than I bid them be quarrelfome or cove- 
 tous, when I affirm that the profeffion of the law could not be 
 maintained in and fplendor, if there was not 
 
 abundance of too felfifh and litigious people. 
 
 But as nothing would more clearly demonitrate the faliity 
 of my notions, generality of the people mould 
 
 fall in with them, io 1 do not expect the approbation of the 
 multitude. I write not to many, nor feek for any well- 
 wiihers, but a . that can think abilradly, and 
 
 have their minds elevated above the vulgar. If I have ihown 
 
LiNE 3-67. I35 
 
 the way to worldly greatnefs, I have always, without heflta- 
 tion, preferred the road that leads to virtue. 
 
 Would you banifli fraud and luxury, prevent profanenefs 
 and irreligion, and make the generality of the people chari- 
 table, good, and virtuous ; break down the printing- prefTes, 
 melt the founds, and burn all the books in the iiland, except 
 thofe at the univerfities, where they remain unmolefled, and 
 fuller no volume in private hands but a Bible : knock down 
 foreign trade, prohibit all commerce with ilrangers, and per- 
 mit no mips to go to fea, that ever will return, beyond 
 fimer-boats. Pveftore to the clergy, the king and the bar- 
 rons their ancient privileges, prerogatives, and profeffions : 
 build new churches, and convert all the coin you can come 
 at into facred utenfils : erect monasteries and alms-houfes in 
 abundance, and let no pariih be without a charity-fchook 
 Enact fumptuary laws, and let your youth be inured to hard- 
 ship : infpire them with all the nice and moil refined notions 
 of honour and fhame, of friendfhip and of heroifm, and intro- 
 duce among them a great variety of imaginary rewards : 
 then let the clergy preach abilinence and felf- denial to 
 others, and take what liberty they pleafe for themfelves ; let 
 them bear the greater! fway in the management of date-af- 
 fairs, and no man be made lord-treafurer but a biihop. 
 
 But by fuch pious endeavours, and wholfome regulations, 
 the icene would be foon altered ; the greateft part o[ the co- 
 vetous, the difcontented, the refdefs and ambitious villains-, 
 would leave the land ; vaft fwarms of cheating knaves would 
 abandon the city, and be difperfed throughout the country : 
 artificers would learn to hold the plough, merchants turn 
 farmers, and the finful overgrown Jerufalem, without fa- 
 mine, war, peftilence, or compuliion, be emptied in the moft 
 eafy manner, and ever after ceafe to be dreadful to her fo- 
 vereigns. The happy reformed kingdom would by thi 
 means be crowded in no part of it, and every thing necefla- 
 ry for the fuitenance of man, be cheap and abound: on the 
 contrary, the root of ur many thouiand evils, money, would 
 be very fcarce, and as little wanted, where every man mould 
 enjoy the fruits of his own labour, and our own dear manu- 
 facture unmixed, be promifcuouily wore by the lord and the 
 peafant. It is imponTble, that fuch a change of circum- 
 fiances mould not influence the manners of a nation, and 
 render them temperate, honeft, and iincere ; and from the 
 next generation we might teafanably expect a more healthy 
 
140 - > REMARKS. 
 
 and robufl offspring than the prefent ; an harmlefs, innocent, 
 and well-meaning people, that would never difpute the doc- 
 trine of paffive obedience, nor any other orthodox principles, 
 but be fubmiinve to fuperiors, and unanimous in religious 
 worfhip. 
 
 Here I fancy myfelf interrupted by an Epicure, who, not 
 to want a refrorative diet in cafe of neceffity, is never with- 
 out live ortelans ; and I am told that goodneis and probity 
 are to be had at a cheaper rate than the ruin of a nation, and 
 the deftruction of all the comforts of life; that liberty and 
 property may be maintained without wickedneis or fraud, 
 and men be good fubjecfs without being Haves, and religious 
 though they refuted to be prieft-rid ; that to be frugal and 
 laving is a duty incumbent only on thofe, whole circum- 
 itances require it, but that a man of a good eftate does his 
 country a fervice by living up to the income of it ; that as 
 to himfelf, he is fo much mailer of his appetites, that he can 
 abftainfrom any thing upon occafion ; that where true Her- 
 mitage was not to be had, he could content himfelf with 
 plain Bourdeaux, if it had a good body ; that many a morn- 
 ing, inllead of St. Lawrence, he has made a fliift with Fron- 
 teniac, and after dinner given Cyprus wine, and even Ma- 
 deira, when he has had a large company, and thought it ex- 
 travagant to treat with Tockay ; but that ail voluntary mor- 
 tifications are fuperftitious, only belonging to blind zealots 
 and enthufiails. He will quote my Lord Shaftsbury againll 
 me, and tell me that people may be virtuous and fociable 
 without felf- denial ; that it is an affront to virtue to make it 
 inacceilible, that 1 make a bugbear of it to frighten men from 
 it as a thing impracticable ; but that for his part he can praife 
 God, and at the fame time enjoy his creatures with a good 
 conicience ; neither will he forget any thing to his purpofe 
 of what I have laid, page 66. He will afk me at lall, whe- 
 ther the legiflature, the wildom of the nation itielf, while 
 they, endeavour as much as poffible, to difcourage profane- 
 neis and immorality, and promote the glory of God, do 
 not openly profeis, at the fame time, to have nothing 
 more at heart, than the cafe and welfare of the fub- 
 ject, the wealth, ftrength, honour, and what elfe is called the 
 true intereil: of the country ? and, moreover, whether the 
 moil devout and moil learned of our prelates, in their greateit 
 concern for our converiion, when they befeech the Deity to 
 turn then* own as well as our hearts, from the world and ail 
 
XJNE 367. 141 
 
 carnal defires, do not in the fame prayer as loudly folicit him 
 to pour all earthly bleflings and temporal felicity, on the 
 kingdom they belong to ? 
 
 Thefe are the apologies, the excufes, and common pleas, 
 not only of thofe who are notorioufiy vicious, but the gene- 
 rality of mankind, when you touch the copy-hold of their 
 inclinations ; and trying the real value they have for fpi- 
 rituals, would actually drip them of what their minds are 
 wholly bent upon. Afhamed of the many frailties they feel 
 within, all men endeavour to hide themfelves, their ugly na- 
 kednefs, from each other, and wrapping up the true motives 
 of their hearts, in the fpecious cloak of fociablenefs, and 
 their concern for the public good, they are in hopes of con- 
 cealing their filthy appetites, and the deformity of their de- 
 fires ; while they are confeious within of the fondnefs for 
 their darling lulls, and their incapacity, bare-faced, to tread 
 the arduous, rugged path of virtue. 
 
 As to the two lad quedions, 1 own they are very puzzling: 
 to what the Epicure aiks, I am obliged to anfwer in the af- 
 firmitive ; and unlefs I would (which God forbid !) arraign 
 the hncerity of kings, bifhops, and the whole legislative 
 power, the objection Hands good againft me : all I can fay 
 for myfelf is, that in the connection of the facts, there is a 
 mydery pail human underftanding ; and to convince the 
 reader, that this is no evafion/X fhall illuilrate the incompre- 
 henfibility of it in the following parable. 
 
 In old heathen times, there was, they fay, a whimfical 
 country, where the people talked much of religion, and the 
 greater! part, as to outward appearance, feemed really de- 
 vout : the chief moral evil among them was third, and to 
 quench it a damnable fin; yet they unanimourly agreed that 
 every one was born thirfty, more or lefs : fmall beer in mo- 
 deration was allowed to all, and he was counted an hypocrite, 
 a cynic, or a madman, who pretended that one could live al- 
 together without it; yet thofe, who owmedthey loved it, and 
 drank it to excefs, were counted wicked. All this, while the. 
 beer itfelf was reckoned a bleffing from Heaven, and there 
 was no harm in the ufe of it ; all the enormity lay in the 
 abufe, the motive of the heart, that made them drink it. He 
 that took the lead drop of it to quench his third, committed 
 a heinous crime, while others drank large quantities without 
 any guilt, fo they did it indifferently, and for no other rea- 
 fon than to mend their complexion. 
 
1-42 REMARKS.* ' 
 
 They brewed for other countries as well as their own, and 
 for the fmall beer they fent abroad, they received large re- 
 turns of Weflphalia-hams, neats tongues, hung-beef, and 
 Bologna faufages, red-herrings, pickled flurgeon, cavear, an- 
 chovies, and every thing that was proper to make their liquor 
 go down with pleafure. Thofe who kept great (lores of fmall 
 beer by them without making ufe of it, were generally en- 
 vied, and at the fame time very odious to the public, and 
 nobody was eafy that had not enough of it come to his own 
 fliare. The greatefl calamity they thought could befal 
 them, was to keep their hops and barley upon their hands, 
 and the more they yearly confumed of them, the more they 
 reckoned the country to flourifh. 
 
 The government had many very wife regulations concern- 
 ing the returns that were made for their exports, encouraged 
 very much the importation of fait and pepper, and laid heavy 
 duties on every thing that was not well feafoned, and might 
 any ways obftrucl the fale of their own hops and bar- 
 ley. Thofe at helm, when they acted in public, mowed 
 themfelves on all accounts exempt and wholly divefled from 
 thiril, made feveral laws to prevent the growth of it, and pu- 
 nifh the wicked who openly dared to quench it. If you exa- 
 mined them in their private perfons, and pryed narrowly into 
 their lives and conventions, they feemed to be more fond, 
 or at leaft drank larger draughts of fmall beer than others, 
 but always under pretence that the mending of complexions 
 required greater quantities of liquor in them, than it did in 
 thofe they ruled over ; and that, what they had chiefly at 
 heart, without any regard to themfelves, was to procure 
 great plenty of fmall beer, among the fubje&s in general, 
 and a great demand for their hops and barley. 
 
 As nobody was debarred from fmall beer, the clergy made 
 ufe of it as well as the laity, andfome of them very plentiful- 
 ly ; yet all of them deiired to be thought lefs thirlly by their 
 junction than others, and never would own that they drank 
 any but to mend their complexions. In their religious af- 
 femblies they were more fincere; for as foon as they came 
 there, they ail openly confelled, the clergy as w r ell as the lai- 
 ty, from the highell to the loweit, that they were thirlly, that 
 mending their complexions was what they minded the leail, 
 and that all their hearts weie fet upon fmall beer and quench- 
 ing their thiril, whatever they might pretend to the contrary, 
 "What was remarkable, is, that to have laid hold of thofe 
 
LINE 367. I43 
 
 truths to any ones prejudice, and made ufe of thofe confef- 
 iions afterwards out of their temples, would be counted very 
 impertinent, and every body thought it an heinous affront 
 to be called thinly, though you had ktn. him drink fmaU 
 beer by whole gallons. The chief topics of their preachers, 
 was the great evil of thiril, and the folly there was in quench- 
 ing it. They exhorted their hearers to refill the temptations 
 of it, inveighed againft fmall beer, and often told them it 
 was poifon, if they drank it with pleafure, or any other de- 
 fign than to mend their complexions. 
 
 In their acknowledgements to the gods, they thanked 
 them for the plenty of comfortable fmall beer they had re- 
 ceived from them, notwithstanding they had fo little de- 
 fended it, and continually quenched their thiril with it; 
 whereas, they were fo thoroughly fatisfed, that it was given 
 them for a better ufe. Having begged pardon for thofe of- 
 fences, they defired the gods to lelfen their third, and give 
 them Strength to refill the importunities of it ; yet, in the 
 midfl of their foreft repentance, and mofc humble fupplica- 
 tions, they never forgot fmall beer, and prayed that they 
 plight continue to have it in great plenty, with a folemrx 
 promife, that how negleclful foever they might hitherto have 
 been in this point, they would for the future not drink a drop 
 of it, with any other deiign than to mend their complexions. 
 
 Thefe were Handing petitions put together to laft ; and 
 having continued to be made ufe of without any alterations, 
 for feveral hundred years together 5 it was thought by fome, 
 that the gods, who underflood futurity, and knew, that the 
 fame promife they heard in June, would be made to them 
 the January following, did not rely much more on thofe 
 vows, than we do on thofe waggilh inferiptions by which 
 men offer us their goods : to-day for money, and to-morrow 
 for nothing. They often began their prayers very myftical- 
 ly, and fpoke many things in a fpiritual fenle ; yet, they 
 never were fo abftracT: from the world in them, as to end 
 one without befeeching the gods to blefs and profper the 
 brewing trade in all its branches, and for the good of the 
 whole, more and more to increafe the consumption of hops 
 and barlev. 
 
1 44 - REMARKS. 
 
 Line 388. Content, the bane of induftry. 
 
 1 .IA.VE been told by many, that the bane of induftry is lazi- 
 nefs, and not content ; therefore to prove ray aiTertion, which 
 feems a paradox to forae, I fhall treat of lazinefs and content 
 feparately, and afterwards fpeak of induftry, that the reader 
 may judge which it is of the tw T o former, that is oppofite to 
 the latter. 
 
 Lazinefs is an averfiori to bufinefs, generally attended with 
 an unreafonable delire of remaining unaclive ; and every 
 body is lazy, who, without being hindered by any other 
 warrantable employment, refutes or puts off any bufinefs 
 which he ought to do for himfelf or others. We feldom call 
 any body lazy, but fuch as we reckon inferior to us, and of 
 whom we expect fome fervice. Children do not think their 
 parents lazy, nor fervants their mailers; and if a gentleman 
 indulges his eafe arid floth fo abominably, that he will not 
 put on his own fnoes, though he is young and flender, nobo- 
 dy fhall call him lazy for it, if he can keep but a footman, 
 or fome body elfe to do it for him. 
 
 Mr. Dry den has given us a very good idea of fuperlative 
 Jlothfulnefs, in the peifon of a luxurious king of Egypt. His 
 majefty having beftowed fome considerable gifts on feveral 
 of his favourites, is attended by fome of his chief minifters 
 with a parchment, which he was to fign to confirm thofe 
 grants. Firft, he walks a few turns to and fro, with a heavy 
 uneaiinefs in his looks, then lets himfelf down like a man that 
 is tired, and, at laft, with abundance of reludancy to what 
 he was going about, he takes up the pen, and falls a com- 
 plaining very fenoufly of the length of the word Ptolemy, 
 and expreffes a great deal of concern, that he had not fome 
 fhort monofyllable for his name, which he thought would 
 fave him a world of trouble. 
 
 We often reproach others with lazinefs, becaufe we are 
 guilty of it ourfelves. Some days ago, as two young women 
 fat knotting together, fays one to the other, there comes a 
 wicked cold through that door ; you are the neareft to it, 
 filler, pray fhut it. The other, who was the younger!, vouch- 
 fafed, indeed, to caft an eye towards the door, but fat ftill, 
 and faid nothing ; the eldeit fpoke again two or three times, 
 and at laft the other making her no anfwer, nor offering to 
 ilir, flie got up in a pet, and fhut the door herielf ; coming 
 
 5 
 
LINE 388. I4S 
 
 back to fit down again, fhe gave the younger a very hard look ; 
 and faid, Lord, lifter Betty, I would not be So lazy as you 
 are for all the world ; which fhe fpoke fo earneftly, that it 
 brought a colour in her face. The youngeft fhould have 
 rifen, I own ; but if the eldeft had not overvalued her labour, 
 fhe would have (hut the door herfelf, as foon as the cold was 
 offenfive to her, without making any words of it. She was 
 not above a ftep farther from the door than her fifter, and as 
 to age, there was not eleven months difference between them, 
 and they were both under twenty. I thought it a hard mat- 
 ter to determine which was the lazieft of the two. 
 
 There are a thoufand wretches that are always working 
 the marrow out of their bones for next to nothing, becaufe 
 they are unthinking and ignorant of what the pains they 
 take are worth : w T hile others who are cunning, and under- 
 fland the true value of their work, refute to be employed at 
 under rates, not becaufe they are of an unaclive temper, but 
 becaufe they will not beat down the price of their labour. A 
 country gentleman fees at the back fide of the Exchange a 
 porter walking to and fro with his hands in his pockets. 
 Pray, fays he, friend, will you ftep for me with this letter as 
 far as Bow-church, and I will give you a penny ? I will 
 go with all my heart, fays the other, but I muft have two- 
 pence, mafter ; which the gentleman refufing to give, the 
 fellow turned his back, and told him, he would rather play 
 for nothing than work for nothing. The gentleman thought 
 it an unaccountable piece of lazinefs in a porter, rather to 
 faunter up and down for nothing, than to be earning a penny 
 with as little trouble. Some hours after he happened to be 
 with fome friends at a tavern in Threadneedle-ftreet, 
 where one of them calling to mind that he had forgot to 
 fend for a bill of exchange that was to go away with the pod 
 that night, was in great perplexity, and immediately wanted 
 fome body to go for him to Hackney with all the fpeed ima^ 
 ginable. It was after ten, in the middle of winter, a very 
 rainy night, and all the porters thereabouts were gone to 
 bed. The gentleman grew very uneafy, and faid, whatever 
 it coft him, that fomebody lie muft fend ; at laft one of the 
 drawers feeing him fp very preffing, told him that he knew 
 a porter, who would rife, if it was a job worth his while,. 
 Worth his while, faid the gentleman very eagerly, do not 
 doubt of that, good lad, if you know of any body, let him 
 make what hafte he can, and I will give him a crown if he 
 
 L 
 
I46 REMARKS, 
 
 be back by twelve o'clock. Upon this the drawer took the 
 errand, left the room, and in lefs than a quarter of an hour, 
 came back with the welcome news that the meffage would 
 be difpatched with all expedition, The, company in the 
 mean time, diverted themfelves as they had done before ; 
 but when it began to be towards twelve, the watches were 
 pulled out, and the porter's return was all the difcourfe. 
 Some were of opinion he might yet come before the clock 
 had ftruck ; others thought it impoffible, and now it want- 
 ed but three minutes of twelve, when in comes the nimble 
 meiTenger imoking hot, with his clothes as wet as dung with 
 the rain, and his head all over in a bath of fweat. He had 
 nothing dry about him but the inlide of his pocket-book, out 
 of which he took the bill he had been for. and by the draw- 
 er's direction, preiented it to the gentleman it belonged to ; 
 who, being very well pleafed with the difpatch he had made, 
 gave him the crown he had promiied, while another filled 
 him a bumper, and the whole company commended his di- 
 ligence. As the fellow came nearer the light, to take up the 
 wine, the country gentleman I mentioned at firit, to his 
 great admiration, knew him to be the fame porter that had 
 refufed to earn his penny, and whom he thought the lazieft 
 mortal alive. 
 
 The ilory teaches us, that we ought not to confound 
 thofe who remain unemployed for want of an opportunity 
 of exerting themfelves to the bell advantage, with luch as 
 for Avant of fpirit, hug themfelves in their floth, and will ra- 
 ther ftarve than ftir. Without this caution, we mud pro- 
 nounce all the world more or lefs lazy, according to their 
 eftimation of the reward they are to purchaie with their la- 
 bour, and then the mod induftrious may be called lazy. 
 
 Content, I call that calm ierenity of the mind, which men 
 enjoy while they think themfelves happy, and reil fatisfied 
 with the ftation they are in : It implies a favourable conftruc- 
 tion of our prefent eircumHances, and a peaceful tranquil- 
 lity, which men are Grangers to as long as they are folicitous 
 about mending their condition. This is a virtue of which 
 the applaufe is very precarious and uncertain : for, accord- 
 ing as mens circumitances vary, they will either be blamed 
 or commended for being poffelled of it. 
 
 A fingle man that works hard at a laborious trade, has a 
 hundred a year left him by a relation : this change of for- 
 tune makes him foon weary of working, and not having in- 
 
LINE 388. 147 
 
 duftry enough to put himfelf forward in the world, he refolves 
 to do nothing at all, and live upon his income. As long as 
 he lives within compafs, pays for what he has, and offends 
 nobody, he (hall be called an honeil quiet man. The vic- 
 tualler, his landlady, the tailor, and others, divide what 
 he has between them, and the iociety is every year the bet- 
 ter for his revenue ; whereas, if he lliould follow his own or 
 any other trade, he mull hinder others, and fome body 
 would have the leis for what he mould get ; and therefore, 
 though he mould be the idled fellow in the world, lie a-bed 
 fifteen hours in four and twenty, and do nothing but iaunter- 
 ing up and down all the reil of the time, nobody would dif- 
 commend him, and his unaclive ipirit is honoured with the 
 name of content. 
 
 But if the fame man marries, gets three or four children, 
 and itill ccntines of the fame eafy temper, reits fatished with 
 what he has, and without endeavouring to get a penny, in- 
 dulges his former floth : firft, his relations, afterwards, all 
 his acquaintance, will be alarmed at his negligence : they 
 forefee that his income will not be iufrlciem to bring up fo 
 many children handiomely, and are afraid, fome of them 
 may, if not a burden, become a difgrace to them. When 
 thefe fears have been, for fome time, whifpered about from 
 one to another, his uncle Gripe takes him to talk, and ac- 
 coiis him in the following cant : i4 What, nephew, no 
 " buiinefs yet ! lie upon it 1 I cannot imagine how you do 
 " to ipend your time ; if yon will not work at your own 
 " trade, there are fifty ways that a man may pick up a pen- 
 " ny by : you have a hundred a-year, it is true, but your 
 " charges increafe every year, and what muil you do when 
 " your children are grown up; I have a better ellate than 
 " youmyfeif. and yet you do not fee me leave orlmy buiinefs ; 
 " nay, I declare it, might I have the world I could not 
 " lead the life you do. It is no buiinefs of mine, I own, 
 " but every body cries, it is a fhame for a young man, as 
 " you are, that has his limbs and his health, lhould not turn 
 " his hands to fomething or other." If thefe admonitions 
 do not reform him in a little time, and he continues half- a- 
 year longer without employment, he will become a difcourfe 
 to the whole neighbourhood, and for the fame qualihcations 
 that once got him the name of a quiet contented man, he 
 {hall be called the worit of hufbands, and the lazieil fellow 
 upon earth : from whence it is manifeft, that when we pro- 
 
 L 2 
 
I48 REMARKS. 
 
 nounce a&ions good or evil, we only regard the hurt or be- 
 nefit the fociety receives from them, and not the perfon who 
 commits them. (See page 17.) 
 
 Diligence and induftry are often ufed promifcuouily, to 
 fignify the fame thing, but there is a great difference be- 
 tween them. A poor wretch may want neither diligence 
 nor ingenuity, be a faving pains-taking man, and yet with- 
 out ftrivingto mend his circumftances, remain contented with 
 the ftation he lives in ; but induftry implies, befides the 
 other qualities, a third after gain, and an indefatigable de- 
 lire of meliorating our condition. When men think either 
 the cuftomary profits of their calling, or elfe the fhare of 
 bufinefs they have too fmall, they have two ways to deferve 
 the name of induflrious ; and they rauft be either ingenious 
 enough to find out uncommon, and yet warrantable me- 
 thods to increafe their bufinefs or their profit, or elfe fupply 
 that defect by a multiplicity of occupations. If a tradei- 
 man takes care to provide his fhop, and gives due attendance 
 to thofe that come to it, he is a dilligent man in his bufinefs ; 
 but if, befides that, he takes particular pains to fell, to the 
 fame advantage, a better commodity than the reft of his 
 neighbours, or if, by his obfequioufnefs, or fome other good 
 quality, getting into a large acquaintance, he ufes all pof- 
 fible endeavours of drawing cuftomers to his houfe, he then 
 may be called induftrious. A cobler, though he is not em- 
 ployed half of his time, if he neglects no bufinefs, and makes 
 difpatch when he has any, is a diligent man ; hut if he runs 
 of errands when he has no work, or makes but fhoe-pins, and 
 ferves as a watchman a- nights, he deferves the name of in- 
 duftrious. 
 
 If what has been faid in this remark be duly weighed, we 
 fhall find either, that lazinefs and content are very near a-kin, 
 or, if there be a great difference between them, that the 
 latter is more contrary to induftry than the former. 
 
 Line 410. To make a great an honeft hive. 
 
 JL his perhaps might be done where people are contented to 
 be poor and hardy ; but if they would likewife enjoy their 
 eafe and the comforts of the world, and be at once an opu- 
 lent, potent, and flourifhing, as well as a warlike nation, it 
 is utterly impoflible. 1 have heard people fpeak of the 
 
LINE 4IO. I49 
 
 mighty figure the Spartans made' above all the common* 
 wealths of Greece, notwithftanding their uncommon fru- 
 gality and other exemplary virtues. But certainly there 
 never was a nation whofe greatnefs was more empty than 
 theirs : The fplendor they lived in was inferior to that of a 
 theatre, and the only thing they could be proud of, was, 
 that they enjoyed nothing. They were, indeed, both feared 
 and efteemed abroad : they were fo famed for valour and 
 fkill in martial affairs, that their neighbours did not only 
 court their friendihip and affiftance in their wars, but were 
 fatisfied, and thought themfelves fure of the victory, if they 
 could but get a Spartan general to command their armies. 
 But then their difcipline was fo rigid, and their manner of 
 living fo auftere and void of all comfort, that the mod tem- 
 perate man among us would refufe to fubmit to the harfhnefs 
 of fuch uncouth laws. There was, a perfect equality among 
 them : gold and filver coin were cried down ; their current 
 money was made of iron, to render it of a great bulk, and 
 little worth : To lay up twenty or thirty pounds, requir- 
 ed a pretty large chamber, and to remove it, nothing lefs 
 than a yoke of oxen. Another remedy they had againft 
 luxury, was, that they were obliged to eat in common of 
 the fame meat, and they fo little allowed any body to dine, 
 or fup by himfelf at home, that Agis, one of their kings, 
 having vanquiihed the Athenians, and fending for bis com- 
 mons at his return home (becaufe he defired privately to eat 
 with his queen) was refufed by the Polemarchi. 
 
 In training up their youth, their chief care, fays Plutarch, 
 was to make them good fubjecls, to fit them to endure the 
 fatigues of long and tedious marches, and never to return 
 without victory from the field. When they were twelve 
 years old, they lodged in little bands, upon beds made of 
 the rufhes, which grew by the banks of the river Eurotas ; 
 and becaufe their points were Iharp, they were to break 
 them off with their hands without a knife : If it were a hard 
 winter, they mingled fome thiftle-down with their rufhes to 
 kept them warm (fee Plutarch in the life of Lycurgus.) 
 From all thefe circumftances it is plain, that no nation on 
 earth was lefs effeminate ; but being debarred from all the 
 comforts of life, they could have nothing for their pains, 
 but the glory of being a warlike people, inured to toils and 
 hardfhips, which was a happinefs that few people would 
 have cared for upon the fame terms : and, though they had 
 
 L3 
 
15° REMARKS. 
 
 been mailers of the world, as long as they enjoyed no more 
 of it, Englifhmen' would hardly have envied them their 
 greatnefs. What men want now-a-days has fufrlciently been 
 ihewn in Remark on line 200, where I have treated of real 
 pleafures. 
 
 Line 411. T' enjoy the world's conveniencies. 
 
 JL hat the words, decency and conveniency, were very 
 ambiguous, and not to be underftood, unlefs we were ac- 
 quainted with the quality and circumitances of the perfons 
 that made ufe of them, has been hinted already in Remark 
 online 177. The goldimith, mercer, or any other of the 
 moil creditable fhopkeepers, that has three or four thoufand 
 pounds to fet up with, mult have two dilhes of meat every 
 day, and fomething extraordinary for Sundays. His wife, 
 mull have a damafk bed againft her lying-in, and two or 
 three rooms very well furnifhed : the following fummer fhe 
 muft have a houfe, or at leaft very good lodgings in the 
 country. A man that has a being out of town, muit have 
 a horfe ; his footman muft have another. If he has a tole- 
 rable trade, he expects in eight or ten years time to keep 
 nis coach, which, notwithstanding, he hopes, that after he 
 has ilaved (as he calls it) for two or three and twenty years, 
 he mall be worth at leaft a thoufand a-year for his eldeft fon 
 to inherit, and two or three thoufand pounds for each of his 
 other children to begin the world with ; and when men of 
 fuch circumftances pray for their daily bread, and mean no- 
 thing more extravagant by it, they are counted pretty mo- 
 deft people. Call this pride, luxury, fuperfluity, or what 
 you pleaie, it is nothing but what ought to be in the capital 
 of a llouriihing nation : thofe of inferior condition muft con- 
 tent themfelves with lefs coftly conveniencies, as others of 
 higher rank will be fure to make theirs more expenfive. 
 Some people call it but decency to be ferved in plate, and 
 reckon a coach and fix among the neceflary comforts of life ; 
 and if a peer has not above three or four thoufand a-year f 
 his iordfhip is counted poor. 
 
 6 
 
LINE 41 1 o 151 
 
 Oince the firft edition of this book, feveral have attacked 
 me with demonftrations of the certain ruin, which exceflive 
 luxury muft bring upon all nations, who yet were foon an- 
 fwered, when I fhowed them the limits within which I had 
 confined it ; and therefore, that no reader for the future may 
 mifconftrue me on this head, I mall point at the cautions I 
 have given, and the privifos 1 have made in the former, as 
 well as. this prefent impreffion, and which, if not overlooked, 
 muft prevent all rational cenfure, and obviate feveral objec- 
 tions that otherwife might be made againft me. I have laid 
 down as maxims never to be departed from, that the * poor 
 fhould be kept ftrictly to work, and that it was prudence to 
 relieve their wants, but folly to cure them ; that agricul- 
 ture f and fifhery fhould be promoted in all their branches, 
 in order to render provifions, and confequently labour cheap. 
 I have named J ignorance as a neceflary ingredient in the 
 mixture of fociety : from all which it is manifeft that I could 
 never have imagined, that luxury was to be made general 
 through every part of a kingdom. 1 have likewife required § 
 that property mould be well fecured, juftice impartially ad- 
 miniftred, and in every thing the interefl of the nation taken 
 care of: but what I have infifted on the moft, and repeated 
 more than once, is the great regard that is to be had to the. 
 balance of trade, and the care the legillature ought to take, 
 that the yearly || imports never exceed the exports ; and 
 where this is obferved, and the other things I fpoke of are not 
 neglected, I ftill continue to afTert that no foreign luxury can 
 undo a country : the height of it is never feen but in na- 
 tions that are vaftly populous, and there only in the upper 
 part of it, and the greater, that is, the larger ftill in propor- 
 tion muft be the loweft, the bafis that fupports all, the mul- 
 titude of working poor. 
 
 Thofe who would too nearly imitate others of fuperior for- 
 tune, muft thank themfelves if they are ruined. This is no- 
 thing againft luxury ; for whoever can fubfift, and lives above 
 his income is a fool. Some perfons of quality may keep 
 three or four coaches and fix, and at the fame time lay up 
 money for their children : while a young ihopkeeper is un- 
 
 * P. 212, 213. Firft Edit. 175, 176. 
 f P. 215. Firft Edit. 178. 
 t P. 106. Firft Edit. 77. 
 § P. 116. Firft Fdit. 87. 
 )| P> 11 ?, n6. Firft Edit. 86, 87. 
 L 4 
 
I52 REMARKS. 
 
 done for keeping one fony horfe. It is impoffible there 
 fhould be a rich nation without prodigals, yet 1 never knew 
 a eity fo full of fpendthrifts, but there were covetous people 
 enough to anfwer their number. As an old merchant breaks 
 for having been extravagant or carelefs a great while, fo a 
 young beginner falling into the fame bulineis, gets an eflate 
 by being faving or more induftrious before he is forty years 
 old : befides, that the frailties of men often work by contra- 
 ries : fome narrow fouls can never thrive becaufe they are 
 too itingy, while longer heads amafs great wealth by fpend- 
 ing their money freely, and feeming to defpife it. But the 
 viciffitudes of fortune are neceiTary, and the molt lamentable 
 are no more detrimental to fociety, than the death of the in- 
 dividual members of it. Chriftenings are a proper balance to 
 burials. Thofe who immediately lofe by the misfortunes of 
 others, are very forry, complain, and make a noife ; but the 
 others who get by them, as there always are fuch, hold their 
 tongues, becaufe it is odious to be thought the better for the 
 lofTes and calamities of our neighbour. The various ups 
 and down^ compofe a wheel, that always turning round, gives 
 motion to the whole machine. Philoibphers, that dare ex- 
 tend their thoughts beyond the narrow compafs of what is 
 immediately before them, look on the alternate changes in, 
 the civil fociety, no otherwife than they do on the riling^ 
 and fallings of the lungs ; the latter of which are much a 
 part of refpiration in the moll perfect animals as the nrft ; fo 
 that the fickle breath of never- liable fortune is to the body 
 politic, the fame as floating air is to a living creature. 
 
 Avarice then, and prodigality, are equally neceflary to the 
 fociety. That in fome countries, men are moll generally 
 lavifh than in others, proceeds from the difference in circum- 
 itances that difpofe to either vice, and arife from the con- 
 dition of the focial body, as well as the temperament of the 
 natural. I beg pardon of the attentive reader, if here, in be- 
 half of fhort memories, 1 repeat fome things, the fubftance 
 of which they have already feen in Remark, line 307. More 
 money than land, heavy taxes and fcarcity of provifions, in- 
 dultry, laborioufnefs, an aclive and ftirring fpirit, ill-nature, 
 and faturnine temper; old age, wifdom, trade, riches, ac- 
 quired by our own labour, and liberty and property well fe- 
 cured, are all things that difpofe to avarice. On the contra- 
 ry, indolence, content, good- nature, a jovial temper, youth, 
 folly, arbitrary power, money eafily got, plenty of provifions 
 
LINE 411. 153 
 
 and the uncertainty of poiTeffions, are circumftances that ren- 
 der men prone to prodigality : where there is the moil of the 
 firft, the prevailing vice will be avarice, and prodigality 
 where the other turns the fcale ; but a national frugality 
 there never was nor never will be without a national necefli- 
 
 Sumptuary laws, may be of ufe to an indigent country t 
 after great calamities of war, peflilence, or famine, when 
 work has flood ftill, and the labour of the poor been inter- 
 rupted; but to introduce them into an opulent kingdom, is 
 the wrong way to confult the interell of it. I fhall end my 
 remarks on the Grumbling- Hive, with alluring the cham- 
 pions of national frugality, that it would be impoffible for 
 the Periians and other eaftern people, to purchafe the vafl 
 quantities of fine Engliih cloch they coniume, mould we 
 load our women with lefs cargoes of Afiatic filks, 
 
r 
 
 
ESSAY ON CHARITY, 
 
 CHARITY-SCHOOLS. 
 
 v_>iharity, is that virtue by which part of that fincere love 
 we have for ourfelves, is transferred pure and unmixed to 
 others, not tied to us by the bonds of friendiliip or confan- 
 guinity, and even mere ftrangers, whom we have no obliga- 
 tion to, nor hope or expect: any thing from. If we lefTeri 
 any ways the rigour of this definition, part of the virtue mufc 
 be loft. What we do for our friends and kindred, we do 
 partly for ourfelves : when a man acts in behalf of nephews 
 or neices, and fays they are my brother's children, I do it out 
 of charity ; he deceives you : for if he is capable, it is ex- 
 pected from him, and he does it partly for his own fake : if 
 he values the efteem of the world, and is nice as to honour 
 and reputation, he is obliged to have a greater regard to them 
 than for ftrangers, or elfe he muft fuffer in his character. 
 
 The exercife of this virtue, relates either to opinion, or to 
 action, and is manifested in what we think of others, or what 
 we do for them. To be charitable, then, in the firft place, 
 we ought to put the bell conftruction on all that others do 
 or fay, that things are capable of. If a man builds a fine 
 houfe, though he has not one fymptom of humility, furnifnes 
 it richly, and lays out a good eftate in plate and pictures, we 
 ought not to think that he does it out of vanity, but to en- 
 courage artifts, employ hands, and fet the poor to work for 
 the good of his country : and if a man ileeps at church, fo he 
 does not more, we ought to think he fhuts his eyes to in- 
 creafe his attention. The reafon is, becaufe in our turn we 
 delire that our utmoft avarice ihould pafs for frugality ; and 
 that for religion, which we know to be hypocrify. Second- 
 ly, that virtue is confpicuous in us, when we beitow our 
 time and labour for nothing, or employ our credit with 
 others, in behalf of thofe who Hand in need of it, and yet 
 could not expect fuch an aftiftance from our friendfhip or 
 nearnefs of blood. The laft branch of charity confifts in 
 giving away (while w r e are alive) what we value ourfelves, 
 
X$6 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 to fuch as I have already named; being contented rather to 
 have and enjoy leis, than not relieve thofe who want, and 
 mall be the objects of our choice. 
 
 This virtue is often counterfeited by apaffion of ours, called 
 Pity or Companion, which confifts in a fellow-feeling and con- 
 dolence for the misfortunes and calamities of others : all man- 
 kind are more or lefs affected with it ; but the weakeft minds 
 generally the mod. It is raifed in us, when the fufferings and 
 mifery of other creatures make fo forcible an impreflion upon 
 us, as to make us uneafy. It comes in either at the eye, or 
 ear, or both ; and the nearer and more violently the object 
 or companion itrikes thofe fenfes, the greater disturbance it 
 caufes in us, often to fuch a degree, as to occafion great pain 
 and anxiety. 
 
 Should any of us be locked up in a ground-room, where 
 in a yard joining to it, there was a thriving good humoured 
 child at play, of two or three years old, fo near us that 
 through the grates of the window w T e could almoft touch it 
 with our hand ; and if while we took delight in the harmlefs 
 diverlion, and imperfect prittle-prattle of the innocent babe, a 
 nafty overgrown few mould come in upon the child, fet it a 
 fcreammg. and frighten it out of its wits ; it is natural to 
 thmk, that this would make us uneafy, and that with crying 
 out, and making all the menacing noife we could, we mould 
 endeavour to drive the low away. But if this mould happen 
 to be an half-ftarved creature, that, mad with hunger, went 
 roaming about in queit of food, and we mould behold the ra- 
 venous brute, in fpite of our cries, and all the threatening gef- 
 tures we could think of, actually lay hold of the helplefs infant, 
 deftroy and devour it ; to fee her widely open her deftruc- 
 tive jaws, and the poor lamb beat down with greedy halte ; 
 to look on the defencelefs pofture of tender limbs firlt 
 trampled on, then tore afunder; to fee the filthy fnout digg- 
 ing in the yet living entrails, fuck up the fmoking blood, 
 and now and then to hear the crackling of the bones, and 
 the cruel animal with favage pleafure grunt over the horrid 
 banquet ; to hear and fee all this, what tortures would it give 
 the foul beyond expreffion ! let me fee the moft mining 
 virtue the moralitts have to boalt of, fo manifeft either to the 
 perfon pollened of it, or thofe who behold his actions : let me 
 fee courage, or the love of ones country fo apparent without 
 any mixture, cleared and diitinct, the firft from pride and 
 anger, the other from the love of glory, and every fliadow 
 of ielf-intereit, as this pity would be cleared and diltinct from 
 
AND CHARITY-SCHOOLS. 1 57 
 
 all other paflions. There would be no need of virtue or 
 felf-denial to be moved at fuch a fcene; and not only a man 
 of humanity, of good morals and commiferation, but like- 
 wife an highwayman, an houfe-breaker, or a murderer could 
 feel anxieties on fuch an occafion ; how calamitious foever a 
 man's circumftances might be, he would forget his misfor- 
 tunes for the time, and the moil troublefome pafflon would 
 give way to pity, and not one of the fpecies has a heart fo 
 obdurate or engaged, that it would not ache at fuch a fight, 
 as no language has an epithet to fit it. 
 
 Many will wonder at what I have faid of pity, that it comes- 
 in at the eye or ear, but the truth of this will be known 
 when we confider that the nearer the object is, the more we 
 fuffer, and the more remote it is, the lefs we are troubled with 
 it. To fee people executed for crimes, if it is a great waj 
 off, moves us but little, in comparifon to what it does when 
 we are near enough to fee the motion of the foul in their 
 eyes, obferve their fears and agonies, and are able to read 
 the pangs in every feature of the face. When the ob* 
 jecl is quite removed from our fenfes, the relation of the ca- 
 lamities or the reading of them, can never raife in us the paf- 
 fion called pity. We may be concerned at bad news, the 
 lofs and misfortunes of friends and thofe whofe caufe we 
 efpoufe, but this is not pity, but grief or forrow ; the fame 
 as we feel for the death of thofe we love, or the deftruction 
 of what we value. 
 
 When we hear that three or four thoufand men, all 
 ftrangers to us, are killed with the fword, or forced into fome 
 river w'here they are drowned, we fay, and perhaps believe, 
 that we pity them. It is humanity bids us have companion 
 with the fufferings of others ; and reafon tells us, that whe- 
 ther a thing be far off or done in our fight, our fentiments 
 concerning it ought to be the fame, and we fhould be 
 afhamed to own, that w 7 e felt no commiferation in us when 
 any thing requires it. He is a cruel man, he has no bowels 
 of compaihon ; all thefe things are the effects of reafon and 
 humanity, b*ut nature makes no compliments ; when the ob- 
 ject does not flrike, the body does not feel it ; and when men 
 talk of pitying people out of fight, they are to be believed in 
 the fame manner as when they fay, that they are our humble 
 fervants. In paying the ufual civilities at firii meeting, thofe 
 who do not fee one another every day, are often very glad 
 and very lorry alternately, for five or fix times together, in 
 
I58 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY, 
 
 lefs than two minutes, and yet at parting carry away not a 
 jot more of grief or joy than they met with. The fame it is 
 with pity, and it is a choice no more than fear or anger. 
 Thofe who have a ftrong and lively imagination, and can 
 make representations of things in their minds, as they would 
 be if they were actually before them, may work themfelves 
 up into fomethmg that refembles companion ; but this is done 
 by art, and often the help of a little enthuliafm, and is only 
 an imitation of pity : the heart feels little of it, and it is as 
 faint as what we fuffer at the acting of a tragedy ; where our 
 judgment leaves part of the mind uninformed, and to in- 
 dulge a lazy wantonnefs, fufTers it to be led into an error, 
 which is necelfary to have a paffion raifed, the flight flrokes 
 of which are not unpleafant to us, when the foul is in an idle 
 unacfive humour. 
 
 As pity is often by ourfelves and in our own cafes miflaken 
 for charity, fo it affumes the fhape, and borrows the very 
 name of it ; a beggar afks you to exert that virtue for Jefus 
 Chrift's fake, but all the while his great defign is to raife 
 your pity. He reprefents to your view the firit fide of his 
 ailments and bodily infirmities; in chofen words he gives you 
 an epitome of his calamities, real or fictitious ; and while he 
 feems to pray God that he will open your heart, he is ac- 
 tually at work upon your ears; the greatefl profligate of 
 them flies to religion for aid, and aififts his cant with a dole- 
 ful tone, and a ftudied difmality of geiiures : but he trufts 
 not to one paffion only, he flatters your pride with titles and 
 names of honour and diitmction ; your avarice he fooths with 
 often repeating to you the fmallnefs of the gift he fues for, 
 and conditional promifes of future returns, with an intereft 
 extravagant beyond the ftatute of ufury, though out of the 
 reach of it. People not uied to great cities, being thus at- 
 tacked on all fides, are commonly forced to yield, and can- 
 not help giving fomething though they can hardly fpare it 
 themfelves. How oddly are we managed by felf-love ! It is 
 ever watching in our defence, and yet, to footh a predomi- 
 nant paffion, obliges us to a6l againfl our intereft: for when 
 pity ieizes us, if we can but imagine, that we contribute to 
 the relief of him we have compaffion with, and are inftru- 
 mental to the leliening of his forrows, it cafes us, and there- 
 fore pitiful people often give an alms, when they really feel 
 that they would rather not. 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS 1 59 
 
 When fores are very bare, or feem otherwife affii&ingin an 
 extraordinary manner, and the beggar can bear to have them 
 expofed to the cold air, it is very mocking to fome people ; 
 it is a fhame, they cry, fuch fights fhould be fuffered ; the 
 main reafon is, it touches their pity feelingly, and at the 
 fame time they are refolved, either becaufe they are cove- 
 tous, or count it an idle expence, to give nothing, which 
 makes them more uneafy. They turn their eyes, and where 
 the cries are difmal, fome w r ould willingly flop their ears if 
 they were not aihamed, What they can do is to mend their 
 pace, and be very angry in their hearts that beggars mould 
 be about the ftreets. But it is with pity as it is with iear, 
 the more w r e are converfant with objects that excite either 
 paffion, the lefs we are difturbed by them, and thofe to whom 
 all thefe fcenes and tones are by cuftom made familiar, they 
 make little impreffion upon. The only thing the induftrious 
 beggar has left to conquer thofe fortified hearts, if he caa 
 walk either with or without crutches, is to follow clofe, and 
 with uninterrupted noife teaze and importune them, to try 
 if he can make them buy their peace. Thus thoufands give 
 money to beggars from the fame motive as they pay their 
 corn-cutter, to walk eafy. And many a halfpenny is given 
 lo impudent and defignedly perfecuting rafcals, whom, if it 
 could be done handfomely, a man would cane with much 
 greater fatisfaction. Yet all this, by the courtefy of the 
 country, is called charity. 
 
 The reverfe of pity is malice : I have fpoke of it where I 
 treat of envy. Thofe who know what it is to examine them- 
 felves, will foon own that it is very difficult to trace the root 
 and origin of this paffion. It is one of thofe we are moft afhamed 
 of, and therefore the hurtful part of it is eafily fubdued and 
 corrected by a judicious education. When any body near 
 us durables, it is natural even before reflection, to ftretch out 
 our hands to hinder, or at leaft break the fall, which fhows 
 that while we are calm we are rather bent to pity. But 
 though malice by itfelf is little to be feared, yet affifted with 
 pride it is often mifchievous, and becomes moft terrible when 
 egged on and heightened by anger. There is nothing that 
 more readily or more effectually extinguifhes pity than this 
 mixture, which is called cruelty : from whence we may learn, 
 that to perforai a meritorious action, it is not fufficient barely 
 to conquer a paffion, unlefs it like wife be done from a lauda- 
 ble principle, and confequently how neceflkry that claufe 
 
l60 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY, 
 
 was in the definition of virtue, that our endeavours were to 
 proceed from a rational ambition of being good. 
 
 Pity, as I have faid fomewhere elfe, is the moft amiable of 
 all our paffions, and there are not many occafions, on which 
 we ought to conquer or curb it. A furgeon may be as com- 
 panionate as he pleafes, fo it does not make him omit or for- 
 bear to perform what he ought to do. Judges likewife, and 
 juries, may be influenced with pity, if they take care that 
 plain laws and juftice itfelf are not infringed, and do not fuf- 
 fer by it. No pity does more mifchief in the world, than 
 what is excited by the tender nefs of parents, and hinders - 
 them from managing their children, as their rational love to 
 them would require, and themielves could wiih it. The 
 fway likewife which this pafiion bears in the affections of wo- 
 men, is more confiderable than is commonly imagined, and 
 they daily commit faults that are altogether afcribed to lull, 
 and yet are in a great meafure owing to pity. 
 
 What I named laft is not the only pafiion that mocks and 
 refembles charity ; pride and vanity have built more hofpitals 
 than all the virtues together. Men are fo tenacious of their 
 pofTeflions, and feifimnefs is fo riveted in our nature, that 
 whoever can but any ways conquer it fhall have the applaufe 
 of the public, and all the encouragement imaginable to con- 
 ceal his frailty, and footh any other appetite he fhall have a 
 mind to indulge. The man that fupplies, with his private 
 fortune, what the whole mull otherwife have provided for, 
 obliges every member of the fociety, and, therefore, all the 
 world are ready to pay him their acknowledgement, and 
 think themfelves in duty bound to pronounce all fuch actions 
 virtuous, without examining, or fo much as looking into the 
 motives from which they were performed. Nothing is more 
 deftructive to virtue or religion itfelf, than to make men be- 
 lieve, that giving money to the poor, though they fhouid 
 not part with it till after death, will make a full atonement 
 in the next world, for the fins they have committed in this. 
 A villain, who has been guilty of a barbarous murder, may, 
 by the help of falfe witnefTes, efcape the punifhment he de- 
 fended : he profpers, we will fay, heaps up great wealth, 
 and, by the advice of his father confeffor, leaves all his eiiate 
 to a monaftery, and his children beggars. What fine amends 
 has this good Chriftian made for his crime, and what an ho- 
 nefl man was the prieft who directed his confeience ? He who 
 parts with all he has in his life- time, whatever principle he 
 
 *7 
 
1 AN'D CHARITY SCHOOLS. l6l 
 
 acts from, only gives away what was his own ; but the rich 
 mifer who refufes to affift his neareft relations while he is 
 alive, though they never defignedly difobliged him, and dif- 
 pofes of his money, for what we call charitable ufes, after 
 his death, may imagine of his goodnefs what he pleafes, but 
 he robs his pofterity. I am now thinking of a late inftance 
 of charity, a prodigious gift, that has made a great noife in 
 the world : I have a mind to fet it in the light I think it de- 
 ferves, and beg leave, for once, to pleafe pedants, to treat 
 it fomewhat rhetorically. 
 
 That a man, with fniall ikill in phyfic, and hardly any 
 learning, mould, by vile arts, get into practice, and lay up 
 great wealth, is no mighty wonder ; but, that he ihould fo 
 deeply work himfelf into the good opinion of the world as 
 to gain the general efteem of a nation, and eftabliih a repu- 
 tation beyond all his contemporaries, with no other qualities 
 but a perfect knowledge of mankind, and a capacity of 
 making the moil of it, is fomething extraordinary. If a 
 man arrived to fuch a height of glory mould be almoft dif- 
 tracted with pride, fometime give hi? attendance on afervant 
 or any meanperfon for nothing, and, at the fame time, ne- 
 glect a nobleman that gives exorbitant fees, at other times 
 refufe to leave his bottle for his bufinefs, without any regard 
 to the quality of the perfons that fent for him, or the danger 
 they are in : if he ihould be furly and morofe, affect to be 
 an humourift, treat his patients like dogs, though people of 
 diftinction, and value no man but what would deify him, 
 and never call in queftion the certainty of his oracles : if he 
 Ihould infult all the world, affront the firft nobility, and 
 extend his infolence even to the royal family : if, to main- 
 tain as well as to increafe the fame of his fufficiency, he 
 Ihould fcorn to confult with his betters on what emer- 
 gency ipever, look down with contempt on the moil deferr- 
 ing of his profeffion, and never confer with any other phy- 
 fician but what will pay homage to his fuperior genius, 
 creep to his humour, and never approach him but with all 
 the llavifh obfequioufnefs a court- flatterer can treat a prince 
 with: If a man, in his lifetime, mould difcover, on the one 
 hand, fuch manifeft fymptoms of fuperlative pride, and 
 an^infatiable greedinefs after wealth at the fame time, and, 
 on the other, no regard to religion or affection to his kind- 
 red, no companion to the poor, and hardly any humanity to 
 his fellow-creatures, if he gave no proofs that he loved his 
 
 M 
 
l62 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 country, had a public fpirit, or was a lover of arts, of books, 
 or of literature, what mult we judge of his motive, the prin- 
 ciple he acted from, when, after his death, we find that he 
 has left a trifle among his relations who flood in need of it, 
 and an immenfe treafure to an univerfity that did not want 
 it. 
 
 Let a man be as charitable as it is poflible for him to be 
 without forfeiting his reafon or good fenfe : can he think 
 otherwife, but that this famous phyfician did, in the making 
 of his will, as in every thing elfe, indulge his darling paffion, 
 entertaining his vanity with the happinefs of the contrivance? 
 when he thought on the monuments and infcriptions, with 
 all the facrifices of praife that would be made to him, and, 
 above all, the yearly tribute of thanks, of reverence, and 
 veneration that would be paid to his memory, with To much 
 pomp and folemnity ; when he confidered, how in all thefe 
 performances, wit and invention would be racked, art and 
 eloquence ranfacked to find out encomiums fuitable to thq 
 public fpirit, the munificence and the dignity of the bene- 
 factor, and the artful gratitude of the receivers ; when he 
 thought on, I fay, and coniidered tbcfe things, it muft have 
 thrown his ambitious foul into vaft ecltafies of pleafure, efpe- 
 cially when he ruminated on the duration of his glory, and 
 the perpetuity he would by this means procure to his name. 
 Charitable opinions are often fiupidly falfe ; when men are 
 dead and gone, we ought to judge of their actions, as we do 
 of books, and neither wrong their understanding nor our 
 own. The Britifh ^Efculapius was undeniably a man of 
 fenfe, and if he had been influenced by charity, a public 
 fpirit, or the love of learning, and had aimed at the good of 
 mankind in general, or that of his own profeffion in parti- 
 cular, and acted from any of thefe principles, he could ne- 
 er have made fuch a will ; becaufe fo much wealth might 
 have been better managed, and a man of much lefs capaci- 
 ty would have found out feveral better ways of laying out 
 the money. But if we confider, that he was as undeniably 
 a man of vaft pride, as he was a man of fenfe, and give our- 
 felves leave only to furmife, that this extraordinary gift 
 might have proceeded from fuch a motive, we fhall prelent- 
 ly difcover the excelllency of his parts, and his confummate 
 knowledge of the world : for, if a man would render him- 
 felf immortal, be ever praifed and deified after his death, 
 and have all the acknowledgement, the honours, and com- 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. 1 63 
 
 pliments paid to his memory, that vain glory herfelf could 
 wifb for, I do not think it in human fkill to invent a more 
 effectual method. Had he followed arms, behaved himfelf 
 in five-and-twenty lieges, and as many battles, with the 
 bravery of an Alexander, and expofed his life and limbs 
 to all the fatigues and dangers of war for fifty campaigns to- 
 gether ; or devoting himfelf to the mufes, facrificed his plea- 
 fure, his reft, and his health to literature, and ipent all his 
 days in a laborious ftudy, and the toils of learning ; or elfe, 
 abandoning all worldly intereit, excelled in probity, tem- 
 perance, and auiterity of life, and ever trod in the ftricteft 
 path of virtue, he would not fo effectully have provided for 
 the eternity of his name, as after a voluptuous life, and the 
 luxurious gratification of his paiuons, he has now done with- 
 out any trouble or feif denial, only by the choice in the dif- 
 pofal of his money, when he was forced to leave it. 
 
 A rich mifer, who is thoroughly felfiih, and would receive 
 the intereit cf his money, even after his death, has nothing 
 elfe to do than to defraud his relations, and leave his eilate 
 to fome famous univerlity ; they are the belt markets to buy 
 immortality at with little merit : in them knowledge, wit, 
 and penetration are the growth, I had almoft faid the ma- 
 nufacture of the place : there men are profoundly Ikilled in 
 human nature, and knpw what it is their benefactors want ; 
 and their extraordinary bounties mail always meet with an 
 extraordinary recompence, and the meafure Gf the gift is 
 ever the itandard of their praiies, whether the donor be a 
 phyfician or a tinker, when once the living witnefTes that 
 might laugh at them are extinct. I can never think on the 
 anniverfary of the thankfgiving-day decreed to a great 
 man, but it puts me in mind of the miraculous cures, and 
 other furprifing things that will be faid of him a hundred 
 years hence : and I dare prognoiticate, that before the end 
 of the prefent century, he will have itories forged in his fa- 
 vour (for rhetoricians are never upon oath) that fnall be as 
 fabulous, at leaft, as any legends of the faints. 
 
 Of all this ourfubtle benefactor was not ignorant; he un- 
 derftood universities, their genius, and their politics, and 
 from thence forefaw and knew, that the incenfe to be offer- 
 ed to him would not ceafe with the prefent or few fucceeding 
 generations, and that it would not only for the trifling fpace 
 of three or four hundred years, but that it would continue 
 to be paid to him through all changes and revolutions of 
 
 INI 2 
 
164 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 government and religion, as long as the nation fubfifts, and 
 the ifland itfelf remains. 
 
 It is deplorable that the proud lliould have fiich tempta- 
 tions to wrong their lawful heirs : For when a man in eafe 
 and affluence, brim-fall of vain glory, and humoured in his 
 pride by the greateil of a polite nation, has fuch an infallible 
 fecurity in petto for an everlafting homage and adoration to 
 his manes to be paid in fuch an extraordinary manner, he is 
 like a hero in battle, who, in fea fling of his own imagina- 
 tion, taftes all the felicity of enthufiafm. It buys him up in 
 ficknefs, relieves him in pain, and either guards him againfl, 
 or keeps from his view all the terrors of death, and the moll 
 difmal apprehenfions of futurity. 
 
 Should it be faid, that to be thus cenforious, and look into 
 matters, and mens confciences with that nicety, will difcourage 
 people from laying out their money this way; and that, let the 
 money and the motive of the donor be what they will, he 
 that receives the benefit is the gainer, I would not difown the 
 charge, but am of opinion, that this is no injury to the pub- 
 lic, mould one prevent men from crowding too much trea- 
 fure into the dead flock of the kingdom. There ought to 
 be a vafl difproportion between the active aud unactive part 
 of the fociety to make it happy, and where this is not re- 
 garded, the multitude of gifts and endowments may foon be 
 exceflive and detrimental to a nation. Charity, where it is 
 too extenfive, feldom fails of promoting iloth and idlenefs, 
 and is good for little in the commonwealth but to breed 
 drones, and deflroy induflry. The more colleges and alm- 
 houfes you build, the more you may. The firfl founders 
 and benefactors may have juft and good intentions, and 
 would perhaps, for their own reputations, feem to labour for 
 the moil laudable purpofes, but the executors of thofe wills, 
 the governors that come after him, have quite other 
 views, and we feldom fee charities long applied as it was 
 firfl intended they mould be. I have no deiign that is 
 cruel,, nor the leail aim that favours of inhumanity. To 
 have fufficient hofpitals for fick and wounded, I look upon 
 as an indifpenfible duty both in peace and war : Young 
 children without parents, old age without fupport, and all 
 that are difabled from working, ought to be taken care of 
 with tendernefs and alacrity. But as, on the one hand, I 
 would have none neglected that are helplefs, and really ne- 
 ceflitous without being wanting to themfelves, fo, on the 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. I65 
 
 other, I would not encourage beggary or lazinefs in the 
 poor : All fhould be fet to work that are any wife able, and 
 fcrutinies fhould be made even among the infirm : Employ- 
 ments might be found out for mofl of our lame, and many 
 that are unfit for hard labour, as well as the blind, as long as 
 their health and flrength would allow of it. What I have 
 now under confideration leads me naturally to that kind of 
 diffraction the nation has laboured under for fome time, the 
 enthufiaflic paflion for Charity-Schools. 
 
 The generality are fo bewitched with the ufefulnefs and 
 excellency of them, that whoever dares openly oppofe them 
 is in danger of being floned by the rabble. Children that 
 are taught the principles of religion, and can read the word 
 of God, have a greater opportunity to improve in virtue and 
 good morality, and muft certainly be more civilized than 
 others, that are fuffered to run at random, and have nobody 
 to look after them. How perverfe muft be the judgment of 
 thofe, who would not rather fee children decently dreffed, 
 with clean linen at lead once a-week, that, in an orderly 
 manner, follow their mailer to church, than in every open 
 place, meet with a company of blackguards without fhirts 
 or any thing whole about them, that, infenfible of their mi- 
 fery, are continually increafing it with oaths' and impreca- 
 tions ! Can any one doubt but thefe are the great nurfery of 
 thieves and pickpockets ? What numbers of felons, and other 
 criminals, have we tried and convicted every feffions ! This 
 will be prevented by charity-fchools ; and when the child- 
 ern of the poor receive a better education, the fociety will, 
 in a few years, reap the benefit of it, and the nation be clear- 
 ed of fo many mifcreants, as now this great city, and all the 
 country about it, are filled with. 
 
 This is the general cry, and he that fpeaks the leafl word 
 againfl it, an uncharitable, hard-hearted and inhuman, if not 
 a wicked, profane, and atheiftical wretch. As to the corae- 
 linefs of the light, nobody difputes it ; but I would not have 
 a nation pay too dear for fo tranfient a pleafure ; and if we 
 might fet afide the finery of the mow, every thing that is 
 material in this popular oration might foon be anfwered. 
 
 As to religion, the moft knowing and polite part of a na- 
 tion have every where the leafl of it ; craft has a greater 
 hand in making rogues than flupidity, and vice, in general, 
 is nowhere more predominant than where arts and fciences 
 nourifh. Ignorance is, to a proverb, counted to be the mo* 
 
 M 3 
 
1 66 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 ther of devotion ; and it is certain, that we fhall find inno- 
 cence and honefty nowhere more general than among the 
 mod illiterate, the poor filly country people. The next to 
 be conlidered, are the manners and civility that by charity- 
 fchools are to be grafted into the poor of the nation. I con- 
 fefs that, in my opinion, to be in any degree poffefled of 
 what I named, is a frivolous, if not a hurtful quality, at leafl 
 nothing is lefs requifite in the laborious poor. It is not com- 
 pliments we want of them, but their work and affiduity. 
 But I give up this article with all my heart; good manners 
 we will fay are necefTary to all people, but which way will 
 they be furnifhed with them in a charity-fchool ? Boys 
 there may be taught to pull off their caps promifcuouily to 
 all they meet, unlefs it be a beggar : But that they fhould 
 acquire in it any civility beyond that I cannot conceive. 
 
 The matter is not greatly qualified, as may be guefTed by 
 his falary, and if he could teach them manners he has not 
 time for it : while they are at fchool they are either learning 
 or faying their leffbn to him, or employed in writing or arith- 
 metic * and as foon as fchool is done, they are as much at li- 
 berty as other poor people's children. It is precept, and the 
 example of parents, and thofe they eat, drink and converfe 
 with, that have an influence upon the minds of children : re- 
 probate parents that take ill courfes, and are regardlefs to 
 their children, will not have a mannerly civilized offspring 
 though they went to a charity-fchool till they were married. 
 The honeft pains-taking people, be they never fo poor, if 
 they have any notion of goodnefs and decency themfelves, 
 will keep their children in awe, and never fuller them to rake 
 about the ftreets, and lie out a-nights. Thofe who will work 
 themfelves, and have any command over their children, will 
 make them do fomething or other that turns to profit as foon 
 as they are able, be it never fo little ; and fuch are fo ungo- 
 vernable, that neither words nor blows can work upon them, 
 no charity-fchool will mend ; nay, experience teaches us, 
 that among the charity-boys there are abundance of bad ones 
 that fwear and curfe about, and, bar the clothes, are as much 
 blackguard as ever Tower-hill or St. James's produced. 
 
 I am now come to the enormous crimes, and vail multi- 
 tude of malefactors, that are all laid upon the want of this 
 notable education. That abundance of thefts and robberies 
 are daily committed in and about the city, and great num- 
 bers yearly fuffer death for thofe crimes is undeniable : but j 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. l6j 
 
 b'ecaufe this is ever hooked in, when the ufefulnefs of chari- 
 ty-fchools is called in queftion, as if there was no difpute, 
 but they would in a great meafure remedy, and in time pre- 
 vent thofe diforders ; I intend to examine into the real cauies 
 of thofe mifchiefs fo juftly complained of, and doubt not but 
 to make it appear that charity-fchools, and every thing elfe 
 that promotes idlenefs, and keeps the poor from working, are 
 more accerTary to the growth of villany, than the want of 
 reading and writing, or even the grofleft ignorance and ftu- 
 pidity. 
 
 Here I muft interrupt myfelf to obviate the clamours of 
 fome impatient people, who, upon reading of what I faid 
 laft, will cry out, that far from encouraging idlenefs, they 
 bring up their charity-children to handicrafts, as well as 
 trades, and all manner of honed labour. I promife them 
 that I fhall take notice of that hereafter, and anfwer it with- 
 out ftifling the leaft thing that can be faid in their behalf. 
 
 In a populous city, it is not difficult for a young rafcal, 
 that has pufhed himfelf into a crowd, w r ith a fmall hand and 
 nimble fingers, to whip away a handkerchief or muff-box, 
 from a man who is thinking on bufinefs, and regardlefs of • 
 his pocket. Succefs in fmall crimes feldom fails of ufhering in 
 greater ; and he that picks pockets w 7 ith impunity at twelve, 
 is likely to be a houfe-breaker at flxteen, and a thorough- 
 paced villain long before he is twenty. Thofe who are cau- 
 tious as well as bold, and no drunkards, may do a world of 
 rnifchief before they are uncovered : and this is one of the 
 greateft inconveniencies of iuch vail overgrown cities, as 
 London or Paris ; that they harbour rogues and villains as 
 granaries do vermin ; they afford a perpetual fnelter to the 
 w r orft of people, and are places of fafety to thoufands of cri- 
 minals, who daily commit thefts and burglaries, and yti, by 
 often changing their places of abode, may conceal themfelves 
 for many years, and will perhaps for ever efcape the hands 
 of juftice, unlefs by chance they are apprehended in a fact. 
 And when they are taken, the evidences perhaps wants clear- 
 nefs, or are otherwife infufficient ; the depoiitions are not 
 ftrong enough ; juries and often judges are touched with 
 companion ; profecutors though vigorous at firft, often re- 
 lent before the time of trial comes on : few men prefer the 
 public fafety to their own eaie ; a man of good-nature is not 
 eafily reconciled with taking away of another man's life, 
 though he has deferved the gallows. To be the caufe of anv 
 M 4 
 
1 68 an essay on charity 
 
 ones death,- though juftice requires it, is what moft people is 
 ftartled at, efpecially men of confcience and probity, when 
 they want judgment or refolution : as this is the reafon that 
 thoufands efcape that deferve to be capitally punifhed, fo it 
 is like wife the caufe that there are fo many offenders, who 
 boldly venture, in hopes that if they are taken they mail 
 have the fame good fortune of getting off. 
 
 But if men did imagine, and were fully perfuaded, that as 
 furely as they committed a fact that deferved hanging, fo 
 furely they would be hanged ; executions would be very 
 rare, and the moil defperate felon would almoft as foon hang 
 himfelf as he would break open a houfe. To be ftupid and 
 ignorant is feldom the character of a thief. Robberies on the 
 highway, and other bold crimes, are generally perpetrated 
 by rogues of fpirit, and a genius ; and villains of* any fame 
 are commonly fubtle cunning fellows, that are well verfed 
 in the method of trials, and acquainted with every quirk in 
 the law that can be of ufe to them ; that overlook not the 
 fmalleft flaw in an indictment, and know how to make an 
 advantage of the leaft flip of an evidence, and every thing 
 elfe, that can ferve their turn to bring them off. 
 
 It is a mighty faying, that it is better that five hundred 
 guilty people mould efcape, than that one innocent perfon 
 iliould fuffer : this maxim is only true as to futurity, and 
 in relation to another world; but it is very falfe in re- 
 gard to the temporal welfare of fociety. It is a terrible 
 thing a man fhould be put to death for a crime he is 
 not guilty of; yet fo oddly circumftances may meet s in- 
 die infinite variety of accidents, that it is poflible it fhould 
 come to pafs, all the wifdom that judges, and confciouf- 
 nefs that juries may be poffeffed of, notwithftanding. 
 But where men endeavour to avoid this, with all the care 
 and precaution human prudence is able to take, fhould 
 fuch a misfortune happen perhaps once or twice in half a 
 fcore years, on condition that all that time juftice fhould 
 be adminiftred with all the ftri&nefs and feverity, and 
 not one guilty perfon fuffered to efcape with impunity, it 
 would be a vafl advantage to a nation, not only as to the fe- 
 curing of every ones property, and the peace of the lociety 
 • in general, but would likewife fave the lives o*f hundreds, if 
 not thoufands, of neceflitous wretches, that are daily hanged 
 for trifles, and who would never have attempted any thing 
 againft the law, or at leaft have ventured on capital crimes, 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. 1 69 
 
 if the hopes of getting off, fhould they be taken, had not 
 been one of the motives that animated their refolution. 
 Therefore where the laws are plain and fevere, all the remiff- 
 nefs in the execution of them, lenity of juries, and frequency 
 of pardons, are in the main a much greater cruelty to a po- 
 pulous ftate or kingdom, than the ufe of racks and the moil 
 exquifite torments. 
 
 Another great caufe of thofe evils, is to be looked for in 
 the want of precaution in thofe that are robbed, and the 
 many temptations that are given. Abundance of families 
 are very rernifs in looking after the fafety of their houfes ; 
 fome are robbed by the careleflhefs of fervants, others for 
 having grudged the price of bars and mutters. Brafs and 
 pewter are ready money, they are every where about the 
 houfe; plate perhaps and money are better fecured ; but an 
 ordinary lock is foon opened, when once a rogue is got in. 
 
 It is manifeft, then, that many different caufes concur, and 
 feveral fcarce avoidable evils contribute to the misfortune of 
 being peftered with pilferers, thieves, and robbers, which all 
 countries ever were, and ever will be, more or lefs, in and 
 near considerable towns, more efpecially vafl and overgrown 
 cities. It is opportunity makes the thief; careleffnefs and ne- 
 glect in fattening doors and windows, the exceffive tendernefs 
 of juries and profecutors, the fmall difficulty of getting a re- 
 prieve and frequency of pardons ; but above all, the many 
 examples of thofe who are known to be guilty, are deftitute 
 both of friends and money, and yet by impofingon the jury, 
 baffling the witnefTes, or other tricks and ftratagems, find out 
 means to efcape the gallows. Thefe are all ftrong tempta- 
 tions that confpire to draw in the neceffitous, who want prin- 
 ciple and education. 
 
 To thefe you may add as auxiliaries to mifchief, an habit of 
 (loth and idlenefs, and ftrong averlion to labour and afliduity, 
 which all young people will contract that are not brought 
 up to downright working, or at leafl kept employed moil 
 days in the week, and the greater!: part of the day. All 
 children that are idle, even the belt of either fex, are bad 
 company to one another whenever they meet. 
 
 It is not, then, the want of reading and writing, but the 
 concurrence and complication of more fubftantial evils, that 
 are the perpetual nurfery of abandoned profligates in great 
 and opulent nations ; and whoever would accuie ignorance, 
 ftupidity, and daftardaefs, as the fivfl, and what the phyficians 
 
I70 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 call the procataric caufe, let him examine into the lives, and 
 narrowly infpect the conversations and actions of ordinary 
 rogues and our common felons, and he will find the reverfe to 
 be true, and that the blame ought rather to be laid on the ex- 
 ceffive cunning and fubtlety, and too much knowledge in 
 general, which the worft of mifcreants and the fcum of the 
 nation are polTeiTed of. 
 
 Human nature, is every where the fame : genius, wit, and 
 natural parts, are always fharpened by application, and may 
 be as much improved in the practice of the meaneft villany, as 
 they can in the exercife of induitry, or the molt heroic vir- 
 tue. There is no ftation of life, where pride, emulation, and 
 the love of glory may not be displayed. A young pick- 
 pocket, that makes a jeft of his angry profecutor, and dex- 
 troulTy wheedles the old juftice into an opinion of his inno- 
 cence, is envied by his equals, and admired by all the frater- 
 nity. Rogues have the fame paffions to gratify as other 
 men, and value themfelves on their honour and faithfulnefs 
 to one another, their courage, intrepidity, and other manly 
 virtues, as well as people of better profeffions ; and in daring 
 enterprifes, the refolution of a robber may be as much fup- 
 ported by his pride, as that of an honeit foldier, who fights 
 for his country. 
 
 The evils then we complain of, are owing to quite other 
 caufes than what we alTign for them. Men mult be very wa- 
 vering in their fentiments, if not inconfiilent with themfelves, 
 that at one time will uphold knowledge and learning to be 
 the molt proper means to promote religion, and defend at 
 another, that ignorance is the mother of devotion. 
 
 But if the reafons alleged for this general education are 
 not the true ones, whence comes it, that the whole kingdom, 
 both great and fmall, are lb unanimouily fond of it? There 
 is no miraculous converlion to be perceived among us, no 
 univerfal bent to goodnefs and morality that has on a fud- 
 den overfpread the ifland ; there is as much wickednefs as 
 ever, charity is as cold, and real virtue as fcarce : the year 
 feventeen hundred and twenty, has been as prolific in deep 
 villany, and remarkable for ielfifh crimes and premeditated 
 mifchief, as can be picked out of any century whatever; not 
 committed by poor ignorant rogues, that could neither read 
 nor write, but the better fort of people as to wealth and edu- 
 cation, that molt of them were great matters in arithmetic, 
 and lived in reputation and fplendor. To fay, that wh. 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. I7I 
 
 thing is once in vogue, the multitude follows the common 
 cry, that chanty fchools are in fafhion in the fame manner as 
 hooped petticoats, by caprice, and that no more reafon can 
 be given for the one than the other, I am afraid will not be 
 fatisfaclory to the curious, and at the fame time 1 doubt 
 much, whether it will be thought of great weight by many 
 of my readers, what I can advance beiides. 
 
 The real fource of this prefent folly, is certainly very ab- 
 flrufe and remote from fight ; but he that affords the leaft 
 light in matters of great obfcurity, does a kind office to the 
 inquirers. I am willing to allow, that in the beginning, the 
 firft deiign of thofe fchools, was good and charitable ; but to 
 know what increafes them fo extravagantly, and who are the 
 chief promoters of them now, we mult make ourfearch ano- 
 ther way, and addrefs ourfelves to the rigid party-men, that 
 are zealous for their caufe, either epifcopacy or preibytery ; 
 but as the latter are but the poor mimicks of the firft , though 
 equally pernicious, we fhall confine ourfelves to the national 
 church, and take a turn through a parifh that is not bleffed 
 
 yet with a chanty fchool But here I think myfelf obliged 
 
 in confcience to afk pardon of my reader, for the tirefome 
 dance I am going to lead him, if he intends to follow me, 
 and therefore I defire, that he would either throw away the 
 book and leave me, or elfe arm himfelf with the patience of 
 Job, to endure all the impertinences of low life; the cant 
 and tittle-tattle he is like to meet with before he can go half 
 a ftreet's length. 
 
 Firft we muft look out among the young mop-keepers, 
 that have not half the bufinefs they could wiih for, and con- 
 fequently time to fpare. If fuch a new-beginner has but a 
 little pride more than ordinary, and loves to be meddling, he 
 is foon mortified in the vefiry, where men of fubftance and 
 long (landing, or elfe your pertlitigious or opinionated bawiers, 
 that have obtained the title of notable men, commonly bear 
 the fway. His flock and perhaps credit are but inconfidera- 
 ble, and yet he finds within himfelf a flrong inclination to 
 govern. A man thus qualified, thinks it a thoufand pities 
 there is no charity-fchool in the parifh : he communicates 
 his thoughts to two or three of his acquaintance firft* they 
 do the fame to others, and in a month's time there is nothing 
 elfe talked of in the parifh. Every body invents difcourfes 
 and arguments to the purpofe, according to his abilities. — It 
 is an arrant fhame, fays one, to fee fo many poor that are not 
 
 5 
 
I72 AN" ESSAY ON- CHARITY 
 
 able to educate their children, and no provifion made for 
 them, where we have fo many rich people. ' What do you 
 talk of rich, anfwers another, they are the worft : they muft 
 have fo many fervants, coaches and horfes : they can lay out 
 hundreds, and fome of them thoufands of pounds for jewels 
 and furniture, but not fpare a milling to a poor creature that 
 wants it : when modes and fafhions are difcourfed of, they 
 can hearken with great attention, but are wilfully deaf to 
 the cries of the poor. Indeed, neighbour, replies the firft, 
 you are very right, I do not believe there is a worfe parifh in 
 England for charity than ours : It is fuch as you and I that 
 would do good if it was in our power, but of thofe that are 
 able there is very few that are willing. 
 
 Others more violent, fall upon particular perfons, and fallen 
 ilander on every man of fubftance they diflike, and a thou- 
 fand idle ftories in behalf of charity, are raifed and handed 
 about to defame their betters. While this is doing through- 
 out the neighbourhood, he that firft broached the pious 
 thought, rejoices to hear fo many come into it, and places no 
 imall merit in being the firft caufe of fo much talk and buftle : 
 but neither himfelf nor his intimates, being confiderable 
 enough to fet fuch a thing on foot, fome body muft be found 
 cut who has greater intereft : he is to be addreffed to, and 
 ihowed the neceffity, the goodnefs, the ufefulnefs, and Chrif- 
 tianity of fuch a defign : next he is to be flattered. — Indeed, 
 Sir, if you would efpoufe it, nobody has a greater influence 
 over the beft of the parifh than yourfelf: one word of you I 
 am fure would engage fuch a one : if you once would take it 
 to heart, Sir, I would look upon the thing as done, Sir. — If 
 by this kind of rhetoric they can draw in fome old fool, or 
 conceited bufy-body that is rich, or at leaft reputed to be 
 fuch, the thing begins to be feafible, and is difcourfed of 
 among the better fort. The parfon or his curate, and the 
 lecturer, are every where extolling the pious project. The 
 firft promoters meanwhile are indefatigable : if they were 
 guilty of any open vice, they either facrifice it to the love of 
 reputation, or at leaft grow more cautious and learn to play 
 the hypocrite, well knowing that to be flagitious or noted 
 for enormities, is inconfiftent with the zeal which they pre- 
 tend to, for works of fupererogation and excefhve piety. 
 
 The number of thefe diminutive patriots increaiing, they 
 form themfelves into a fociety, and appoint ftated meetings, 
 where every one concealing his vices, has liberty to difplay 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS, 1 73 
 
 his talents. Religion is the theme, or elfe the mifery of the 
 times occafioned by atheifm and profanenefs. Men of worth, 
 who live in fplendour, and thriving people that have a great 
 deal of bufmefs of their own, are feldom fecn among them. 
 Men of fenfe and education like wife, if they have nothing to 
 do, generally look out for better diverfion. All thofe who 
 have a higher aim, mail have their attendance eafily excufed, 
 but contribute they mull, or elfe lead a weary life in the panfh 
 Two forts of people come in voluntarily, ftanch churchmen, 
 who have good reafons for it in petto, and your fly finners that 
 look upon it as meritorious, and hope that it will expiate 
 their guilt, and Satan be nonfuited by it at a fmall expence^ 
 Some come into it to fave their credit, others to retrieve if; 
 according as they have either loft or are afraid of lofing it : 
 others again do it prudentially, to increafe their trade and 
 get acquaintance, and many would own to you, if they dared 
 to be fincere and fpeak the truth, that they would never 
 have been concerned in it, but to be better known in the pa- 
 rifh. Men of fenfe that fee the folly of it, and have nobody 
 to fear, are perfuaded into it not to be thought lingular, or 
 to run counter to all the world ; even thofe who are refolute 
 at firft in denying it, it is ten to one but at laft they-are 
 teazed and importuned into a compliance. The charge be- 
 ing calculated for moft of the inhabitants, the infignificancjr 
 of it is another argument that prevails much, and many are 
 drawn in to be contributors, who, without that, would have 
 flood out and ftrenuoufly oppofed the whole fcheme. 
 
 The governors are made of the middling people, and many- 
 inferior to that clafs are made ufe of, if the forwardnefs of 
 their zeal can but over- balance the meannefs of their condi- 
 tion. If you mould afk thefe worthy rulers, w 7 hy they take 
 upon them fo much trouble, to the detriment of their own 
 affairs and lofs of time, either fingly or the whole body of 
 them, they would all unanimouily anfwer, that it is the re- 
 gard they have for religion and the church, and the plea- 
 fure they take in contributing to the, good, and eternal wel- 
 fare of fo many poor innocents, that in all probability would 
 run into perdition, in thefe wicked times of fc offers and free- 
 thinkers. They have no thought of intereft ; even thofe W T ho 
 deal in and provide thefe children with what they want, have 
 not the leaft delign of getting by what they fell for their ufe; 
 and though in every thing elfe, their avarice and greedi- 
 nefs after lucre be glaringly confpicuous, in this affair they 
 
 7 
 
*74 &X ESSAY ON CHARITY" 
 
 are wholly diverted from felfiilinefs, and have no worldly 
 ends. One motive above all, which is none of the lead with 
 the moil of them, is to be carefully concealed, I mean the fa- 
 tisfacfion there is in ordering and directing : there is a melo- 
 dious found in the word governor, that is channing to mean 
 people : every body admires fway and fuperiority ; even im- 
 perium in belluas has its delights: there is a pleafure in ruling 
 over any thing ; and it is this chiefly that fupports human 
 nature in the tedious flavery of fchool-mafters. But if there 
 be the leaft fatisfaction in governing the children, it muft be 
 raviihing to govern the fchool-mafter himfelf. What fine 
 things are faid and perhaps wrote to a governor, when a 
 fchool-mafter is to be chofen I How the praifes tickle, and 
 how pleafant it is not to find out the fulfomenefs of the flat- 
 tery, the fiiffnefs of the expreffions, or the pedantry of the 
 itile! 
 
 Thofe who can examine nature, will always find, that 
 what thefe people moil pretend to is the leaft, and what they 
 utterly deny their greater! motive. No habit or quality is 
 more eafily acquired than hvpocniy, nor any thing fooner 
 learned than to deny the fentiments of our hearts, and the 
 principle we act from : but the feeds of every paflion are in- 
 nate to us, and nobody comes into the world without them. 
 If we will mind the paftimes and recreations of young chil- 
 dren, we lb all obferve nothing more general in them, than 
 that all who are fuffersd to do it, take delight in playing with 
 kittens and little puppy dogs. What makes them always 
 lugging and pulling the poor creatures about the houfe, pro- 
 ceeds from nothing elie but that they can do with them 
 what they pleafe, and put them into what pofture and fliape 
 they lift; and the pleafure they receive from this, is original- 
 ly owing to the love of dominion, and that ufurping temper 
 all mankind are born with. 
 
 When this great work is brought to bear, and actually ac- 
 complifhed, joy and ferenity feem to overfpread the face of 
 every inhabitant, which likewife to account for, I muft make 
 a fhort digreffion. There are every where flovenly forry 
 fellows, that are uled to be feen always ragged and dirty : 
 thefe people we look upon as miferable creatures in general, 
 and v unlefs they are very remarkable, we take little notice of 
 them, and yet among thefe there are handibme and well- 
 fhaped men, as well as among their betters. But, if one of 
 thefe turns foldier, what a vaft alteration is there obferved in 
 
AND CHARITY-SCHOOLS. 1 75 
 
 him for the better, as foon as he is put in his red coat, and we 
 fee him look fmart with his grenadier's cap and a great am- 
 munition fword ! All who knew him before are {truck with 
 other ideas of his qualities, and the judgment which both 
 men and women form of him in their minds, is very different 
 from what it was. There is fomething analogous to this in the 
 light of charity children.; there is a natural beauty in unifor- 
 mity, which mo ft people delight in. It is diverting to the eye 
 to fee children well matched, either boys or girls, march two 
 and two in good order ; and to have them all whole and 
 tight in the fame clothes and trimming, muft add to the 
 comelinefs of the light ; and what makes it ftill more general- 
 ly entertaining, is the imaginary ihare which even fervants, 
 and the meaner!: in the parifli, have in it, to whom it coils 
 nothing : our parifh church, our charity children. In all 
 this there is a fhadow of property that tickles every body, 
 that has a right to make ufe of the words, but more efpecial- 
 !y thofe who actually contribute, and had a great hand in 
 advancing the pious work. 
 
 It is hardly conceivable, that men mould fo little know 
 their own hearts, and be fo ignorant of their inward condi- 
 tion, as to miftake frailty, palTion, and enthufiafm, for good- 
 nefs, virtue and charity ; yet nothing is more true than that 
 the fatisfaction, the joy and tranfports they feel on the ac- 
 counts I named, pafs with thefe miferable judges for prin- 
 ciples of piety and religion. Whoever will confider of what 
 1 have faid for two or three pages, and fuller his imagination 
 to rove a little farther on what he has heard and feen con- 
 cerning this fubject, will be furniihed with fufficient reaions, 
 abitract from the love of God and true Chriiiianity, why 
 charity-fchools are in fuch uncommon vogue, and fo unani- 
 moully approved of and admired among ail forts and condi- 
 tions of people. It is a theme which every body can talk of, 
 and underitands thoroughly ; there is not a more mexhaufli- 
 ble fund for tittle-tattle, and a variety of low converfation in 
 hoy-boats and itage-coaches. If a governor that in behalf of 
 the fchool or the fermon, exerted himfelf more than ordinary, 
 happens to be in company, how he is commended by the 
 women, and his zeal and charitable difpofition extolled to 
 the Ikies ! Upon my word, fir, fays an old lady, we are all 
 very much obliged to you ; I do not think any of the other 
 governors could have made intereft enough to procure us a 
 bifhop ; it was en your account, I am told, that his lordihip 
 
Ij6 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 came, though he was not very well : to which the other re- 
 plies very gravely, that it is his duty, but that he values no 
 trouble nor fatigue, fo he can be but ferviceable to the chil- 
 dren, poor lambs : indeed, fays he, I was refolved to get a 
 pair of lawn fleeves, though I rid all night for it, and I am 
 very glad I was not difappointed. 
 
 Sometimes the fchool itfelf is difcourfed of, and of whom 
 in all the parifh it is moft expected he mould build one : 
 The old room where it is now kept is ready to drop down ; 
 fuch a one had a vaft eftate left him by his uncle, and a great 
 deal of money befides ; a thoufand pounds would be no- 
 thing in his pocket. 
 
 At others, the great crowds are talked of that are feen at 
 fome churches, and the confiderable fums that are gathered ; 
 from whence, by an eafy tranfition, they go over to the abi- 
 lities, the different talents and orthodoxy of clergymen. Dr. 
 
 is a man of great parts and learning, and I believe he is 
 
 very hearty for the church, but I do not like him for a charity 
 
 fermon. There is no better man in the world than ; 
 
 he forces the money out of their pockets. When he preach- 
 ed lad for our children, I am fure there was abundance of 
 people that gave more than they intended when they came 
 to church. I could fee it in their faces, and rejoiced at it 
 heartily. 
 
 Another charm that renders charity-fchools fo bewitching 
 to the multitude, is the general opinion eftablifhed among them, 
 that they are not only actually beneficial to fociety as to tem- 
 poral happinefs, but like wife that Chriftianity enjoys and re- 
 quires of us, we mould erect them for our future welfare. 
 TJiey are earneftly and fervently recommended by the whole 
 body of the clergy, and have more labour and eloquence laid 
 out upon them than any other Chriltian duty ; not by young 
 perfons, or pooricholars of little credit, but the moftlearned of 
 our prelates, and the moft eminent for orthodoxy., even thofe 
 who do not often fatigue themielves on any other occafion. 
 As to religion, there is no doubt but they know what is 
 chiefly required of us, and consequently the moft neceffary 
 to falvation : and as to the world, who mould underftand the 
 intereft of the kingdom better than the wifdom of the na- 
 tion, of which the lords fpiritual are fo confiderable a 
 branch ? The confequence of this fanclion is, firft, that 
 thofe, who, with their purfes or power, are inftrumental to 
 the increafe or maintenance of thefe fchools, are tempted to 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. 1 77 
 
 place a greater merit in what they do, than otherwife they 
 could fuppofe it deferved. Secondly, that all the reft, who 
 either cannot, or will not any wife contribute towards them, 
 have ftill a very good reafon why they mould fpeak well of 
 them; for though it be difficult, in things that interfere 
 with our paffions, to act well, it is always in our power to 
 wifh well, becaufe it is performed with little coft. There is 
 hardly a perfon fo wicked among the fuperftitious vulgar, 
 but in the liking he has for charily fchools, he imagines to 
 fee a glimmering hope that it will make an atonement for 
 his fins, from the fame principle as the moft vicious comfort 
 themfelves with the love and veneration they bear to the 
 church; and the greater! profligates find an opportunity in 
 it to (how the rectitude of their inclinations at no expence. 
 
 But if all thefe were not inducements fufficient to make 
 men fland up in defence of the idol I fpeak of, there is ano- 
 ther that will infallibly bribe molt people to be advocates for 
 it. We all naturally love triumph, and whoever engages in 
 this courfe is fure of conqueft, at leafl in nine companies out 
 of ten. Let him difpute with whom he will, coniidering the 
 fpecioufnefs of the pretence, and the majority he has on his 
 fide, it is a caftle, an impregnable fortreis he can neverbe 
 beat out of; and was the molt fober, virtuous man alive to 
 produce all the arguments to prove the detriment charity - 
 fchools, an leafl the multiplicity of them, do to fociety, which 
 I fliall give hereafter, and fuch as are yet Stronger, againft 
 the greater!: fcoundrel in the world, who mould only make 
 ufe of the common cant of charity and religion, the vogue 
 would be againft the firft, and himfelf lofe his caufe in the 
 opinion of the vulgar. 
 
 The rife, then, and original of all the buftle and clamour 
 that is made throughout the kingdom in behalf of charity 
 fchools, is chiefly built on frailty and human paflion, at leaft 
 it is more than poffible that a nation mould have the fame 
 fondnefs, and feel the fame zeal for them as are fhown in 
 ours, and yet not be prompted to it by any principle of vir- 
 tue or religion. Encouraged by this consideration, I fliall, 
 with the greater liberty, attack this vulgar error, and en- 
 deavour to make it evident, that far from being beneficial, 
 this forced education is pernicious to the public, the welfare 
 whereof, as it demands of us a regard fuperior to all other 
 laws and, confideradcns, fo it fliall be the only apology I in- 
 tend to make for differing from the prefent fentiments of the 
 
 N 
 
I78 . AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 learned and reverend body of our divines, and venturing 
 plainly to deny, what I have juft now owned to be openly 
 aiTerted by moil of our bifhops, as well as inferior clergy. As 
 our church pretends to no infallability even in fpirituals, Tier 
 proper province, fo it cannot be an affront to her to imagine 
 that fne may err in temporals, which are not fo much under 
 her immediate care. But to my talk. Y 
 
 The whole earth being curfed, and no bread to be had 
 but what we eat in the fweat of our brows, vail toil mud be 
 undergone before man can provide himfelf with necefTaries 
 for his fullenance, and the bare fupport of his corrupt 
 and defective nature, as he is a lingle creature ; but infinite- 
 ly more to make life comfortable in a civil fociety, where 
 men are become taught animals, and great numbers of them 
 have, by mutual compact, framed themfelves into a body 
 politic ; and the more man's knowledge increafes in this 
 ftate, the greater will be the variety of labour required to 
 make him eafy. It is impoilible that a fociety can long fub- 
 fifl, and fuffer many of its members to live in idleneis, and 
 enjoy all the eafe and pleafure they can invent, without hav- 
 ing, at the fame time, great multitudes of people that to make 
 good this defect will condefcend to be quite the reverfe, and 
 by ufe and patience inure their bodies to work for others and 
 themfelves befides. 
 
 The plenty and cheapnefs of provifions depends, in a 
 great meafure, on the price and value that is fet upon thi 
 labour, and confequently the welfare of all focieties, even 
 before they are tainted with foreign luxury, requires that it 
 fhould be performed by fuch of their members as, in the firfl 
 place, are flurdy and robuft, and never ufed to eafe or idle- 
 nefs ; and, in the fecond, foon contented as to the necefTa- 
 ries of life ; fuch as are glad to take up with the coarfell ma- 
 nufacture in every thing they wetfr, and in their diet have no 
 other aim than to feed their bodies when their itomachs 
 prompt them to eat, and, with little regard to tafte or relifh, 
 refufe no wholefome nourifhment that can be 1 wallowed 
 when men are hungry, or alk any thing for their thirft but 
 to quench it. 
 
 As the greatefl part of the drudgery is to be done by day- 
 light, fo it is by this only that they actually meafure the time 
 of their labour without any thought of the hours they are 
 employed, or the wearinels they feel ; and the hireling in 
 the country mult get up in the morning, not becaufe he has 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. 1 79 
 
 refted enough, but becaufe the fun is going to rife. This 
 laft article alone would be an intolerable hardfhip to grown 
 people under thirty, who, during nonage, had been ufed to 
 lie a- bed as long as they could fleep : but all three together 
 make up fuch a condition of life, as a man more mildly edu- 
 cated would hardly choofe, though it mould deliver him 
 from a goal or a fhrew. 
 
 If fuch people there mud be, as no great nation can be 
 happy without vaft numbers of them, would not a wife legi- 
 llature cultivate the breed of them with all imaginable care, 
 and provide againft their fcarcity as he would prevent the 
 fcarcity of provilion itfelf? No man would be poor, and fa- 
 tigue himfelf for a livelihood, if he could help it : The abfo- 
 lute neceffity all ftand in for victuals and drink, and in cold 
 climates for clothes and lodging, makes them fubmit to any 
 thing that can be bore with. If nobody did want, nobody 
 would work ; but the greatefl hardihips are looked upon as 
 fohd pleafures, when they keep a man from ftarving. 
 
 From what has been laid, it is mamfeit, that in a free na- 
 tion, where fiaves are not allowed of, the fureft wealth con- 
 lifts in a multitude of laborious poor; for beiides that they 
 are the never-failing nurfery of fleets and armies, without 
 them there could be no enjoyment, and no product of any 
 country could be valuable. To make the fociety happy, and 
 people eafy under the meaner!: circumftances, it is requiiite 
 that great numbers of them fliould be ignorant, as well as 
 poor. Knowledge both enlarges and multiplies our $efires, 
 and the fewer things a man whiles for, the more eaiily his 
 necedities may be fupplied. 
 
 The welfare and felicity, therefore, of every ftate and 
 kingdom, require that the knowledge of the working poor 
 fhould be confined within the verge of their occupations, 
 and never extended (as to things vifible), beyond what re- 
 lates to their calling. The more a fhepherd, a ploughman, 
 or any other peafant, knows of the world, and the things 
 that are foreign to his labour or employment, the lefs fit he 
 will 'be to go through the fatigues and hardfhips of it with 
 cheerfulnefs and content. 
 
 Reading, writing, and arithmetic, are very necefTary to 
 thole whole buiinefs require fuch qualifications ; but where 
 people's livelihood has no dependence on theie arts, they 
 are very pernicious to the poor, who are forced to get their 
 daily bread by their daily labour. Few children make any 
 
 N 2 
 
2SC .._; ESSAY ON CHA2.ITY 
 
 progrefs at fchool, bur, at the fame time, they are capable of 
 being employed in fome bufinefs or other, fo s that every hour 
 thofe of poor people fpend at their book is lb much timeloit 
 to the fociety. Going to fchool, in companion to working, 
 is idlenefs, and the longer boys continue in this eafy fort of 
 life, the more unfit they will be when grown up for down- 
 right labour, both as to llrength and inclination. Men who 
 are to remain and end their days in a laborious, tirefome, and 
 painful ftatioH of life, the fooner they are put upon it at 
 firil, the more patiently they will fubmit to it for ever after. 
 Hard labour, and the coarfeil diet, are a proper punilnment 
 to feveral kinds of malefactors, but to impofe either on thofe 
 that have not been ufed and brought up to both, is the 
 greatefl cruelty, when there is no crime you can charge them 
 with. 
 
 Reading and writing are not attained to without fome la- 
 bour of the brain and affiduity, and before people are toler- 
 ably verfed in either, they eireem themfelves infinitely above 
 thofe who are wholly ignorant of them, often with lb little 
 juftice and moderation, as if they were of another fpecies. 
 As all mortals have naturally an averiion to trouble and 
 pains-taking, fo we are all fond of, and apt to overvalue 
 thofe qualifications we have purchafed at the expence of our 
 eafe and quiet for years together. Thofe who fpent a great 
 part of their youth in learning to read, write, and cypher, 
 expert, and not unjuftly, to be employed where thofe quali- 
 fications may be of ufe to them ; the generality of them will 
 look upon downright labour with the utmoil contempt, I' 
 mean labour performed in the fervice of others in the lowefl 
 ftation of life, and for the meaneit consideration. A man, 
 who has had fome education, may follow hufbandry by 
 choice, and be diligent at the dirtiefl and molt laborious 
 work ; but then the concern muft be his own, aRd avarice, 
 the care of a family, or fome other prefling motive, mull put 
 him upon it ; but he will not make a good hireling, and ferve 
 a farmer for a pitiful reward ; at leail he is not fo tit for it as 
 a day labourer that has always been employed about the 
 plough and dung cart, and remembers not that ever he has 
 lived other wife. 
 
 When obfequioufnefs and mean fervices are required, we 
 fhall always oblerve that they are never fo cheerfully nor fo 
 heartily performed, as from inferiors to fuperiors ; I mean 
 inferiors not only in riches and quality, but likewife in 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. l8r 
 
 knowledge and understanding. A fervant can have no 
 unfeigned refpecl: for his matter, as foon as he has fenfe 
 enough to find out that he ferves a fool. When we are to learn 
 or to obey, we fhall experience in ourfelves, that the greater 
 opinion we have of the w r ifdomand capacity of rhofe ihatare 
 either to teach or command us, the greater deference we pay 
 to their laws and inftruclions. No creatures fubmit con- 
 tentedly to their equals ; and mould a horfe know as much 
 as a man, I mould not defire to be his rider. 
 
 Here I am obliged again to make a digreffion, though I 
 declare I never had a lefs mind to it than I have at this mi- 
 nute ; but I fee a thoufand rods in pifs, and the whole pofTe 
 of diminutive pedants againft me, for afTaulting the Chrift- 
 crofs row, and oppofing the very elements of literature. 
 
 This is no panic fear, and the reader w T ill not imagine my 
 apprehenlions ill grounded, if he confiders what an army of 
 petty tyrants I have to cope with, that all either actually per- 
 fecute with birch, or eife are foliciting for fuch a preferment. 
 For if I had no other adverfaries than the ftarving wretches 
 of both fexes, throughout the kingdom of Great Britain, 
 that from a natural antipathy to working, have a great dif- 
 like to their prefent employment, and perceiving within a 
 much ttronger inclination to command than ever they felt 
 to obey others, think themfelves qualified, and wilh from 
 their hearts to be matters and miftrefTes of charity fchools, 
 the nuiiiber of my enemies w r ould, by the mod modeft com- 
 putation amount to one hundred thoufand at leaft. 
 
 Methinks I hear them cry out, that a more dangerous doc- 
 trine never was broached, and Popery is a fool to it, and afk 
 what brute of a Saracen it is that draws his ugly weapon for 
 the deftruciion of learning. It is ten to one but they will iridic!: 
 me for endeavouring, by mitigation of the prince of darknefs, 
 to introduce into thefe realms greater ignorance and barbarity, 
 than ever nation was plunged into by Goths and Vandals fince 
 the light of the gofpel firit appeared in the world. Whoever 
 labours under the public odium, has always crimes laid to his 
 charge he never was guilty of, and it will be fufpecied that I 
 have had a hand in obliterating the Holy Scriptures, and 
 perhaps affirmed, that it was at my requett that the fmall 
 Bibles, publifhed by patent in the year 1 721, and chiefly 
 made ufe of in charity ichools, were, through badneis of 
 print and paper, rendered illegible ; which yet 1 proieit I 
 am as innocent of as the child unborn. But 1 am in a thoiu 
 
 N 3 
 
1 82 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 fand fears; the more I confider my cafe, the worfe I like it, and 
 the greateft comfort I have is in my fincere belief, that hardly 
 any body will mind a word of what I fay ; or elfe, if ever the 
 people fufpected that what I write would be of any weight to 
 any coniiderable part of the fociety, I mould not have the cou- 
 rage barely to think on all the trades I Ihould difoblige ; and 
 I cannot but fmile, when I reflect on the variety of uncouth 
 fufferings that would be prepared for me, if the punifhment 
 they would differently inflict upon me was emblematically 
 to point at my crime. For if I was not fuddenly fluck full 
 of ufelefs pen knives up to the hilts, the company of ftation- 
 ers would certainly take me in hand, and either have me 
 buried alive in their hall, under a great heap of primers and 
 fpellmg- books, they would not be able to fell ; or elfe fend 
 me up againft tide to be bruifed to death in a paper mill, that 
 would be obliged to ftand ftill a week upon my account. 
 The ink- makers, at the fame time, would, for the public 
 good, offer to choke me with aftringents, or drown me in 
 the black liquor that would be left upon their hands ; which, 
 if they joined flock, might eaiily be performed in lefs than 
 a month ; and if I fhould efcape the cruelty of thefe united 
 bodies, the refentment of a private monopolift would be as 
 fatal to me, and 1 fhould foon find myfelf pelted and knock- 
 ed on the head with little iquat Bibles claiped in brafs, and 
 ready armed for miichief, that, charitable learning cealing, 
 would be fit for nothing but unopened to fight with, and ex- 
 ercifes truly polemic. 
 
 The dlgreilion I fpoke of juft now, is not the foolifh trifle 
 that ended with the la ft paragraph, and which the grave 
 critic, to whom all miith is unfeafonable, will think very 
 impertinent ; but a ferious apologetical one 1 am going to 
 make out of hand, to clear myfelf from having any delign 
 againtt arts and iciences. as iome heads of colleges and other 
 careful prefervers of human learning might have apprehend- 
 ed, upon feeing ignorance recommended as a neceflkry in- 
 gredient in the mixture of civil fociety. 
 
 In the firft p;ace, I would have near double the number of 
 profeifors in every univerjity of what there is now 7 . Theolo- 
 gy with us is generally well piov'ded bur the tw 7 o other fa- 
 culties have very little to bo'ati of, especially phyfic. Every 
 branch of that art ought to have two or three profefibrs, 
 ti at woi Id rake pains to corrtiriuBicate thefe (kill and know- 
 ledge Lo oihers. In public lectures, a ^s am man has great op- 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. 1 83 
 
 portunities to fet off his parts, but private inftruclions are 
 more ufeful to ftudents. Pharmacy, and the knowledge of 
 the fimples, are as neceffary as anatomy or the hiftory of 
 difeafes : it is a fhame, that when men have taken their de- 
 gree, and are by authority intruded with the lives of the 
 iubjecl:, they mould be forced to come to London to be ac- 
 quainted with the Materia Medica, and the compofition of 
 medicines, and receive inftruclions from others that never 
 had univerlity education themfelves ; it is certain, that in the 
 city I named, there is ten times more opportunity for a man 
 to improve himfelf in anatomy, botany, pharmacy, and the 
 practice of phyfic, than at both univerfities together. What 
 has an oil fhop to do with filks ; or w r ho would look for hams 
 and pickles at a mercers ? Where things are well managed, 
 hofpitals are made as fubfervient to the advancement of 
 ftudents in the art of phyfic, as they are to the recovery of 
 health in the poor. 
 
 Good fenfe ought to govern men in learning as well as in 
 trade : no man ever bound his fon apprentice to a goldfmith 
 to make him a linen draper ; then why mould he have a 
 divine for his tutor to become a lawyer or a phyiician ? It is 
 true, that the languages, logic and pliilofophy, mould be 
 the firit fludies in all the learned profeffions ; but there is fo 
 little help for phyfic in our univerfities that are fo rich, and 
 where fo many idle people are well paid for eating and 
 drinking, and being magnificently, as well as commodioufly 
 lodged, that bar books, and what is common to all the 
 three faculties, a man may as weli qualify himfelf at Oxford 
 or Cambridge to be a Turkey merchant, as he can to be a 
 phyiician ; which is, in my humble opinion, a great lign 
 that fome part of the great wealth they are poUefTed of is not 
 fo well applied as it might be. 
 
 Profeflbrs fhould, befides their ftipends allowed them by 
 the public, have gratifications from every ftudent they 
 teach, that felf-intereft, as w T ell as emulation and the love of 
 glory, might fpur them on to labour and affiduity. When 
 a man excels in any one itudy or part of learning, and is 
 qualified to teach others, he ought to be procured, if money 
 will purchafe him, without regarding what party, or indeed 
 what country or nation he is of, whether black or white. 
 Univerfities mould be public marts for all manner of litera- 
 ture, as your annual fairs, that are kept at Leipfic, Frank- 
 fort, and other places in Germany, are for different wares 
 
 *4 
 
5^4 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 and merchandifes, where no difference is made between 
 natives and foreigners, and which men refort to from all 
 parts of the world with equal freedom and equal privilege. 
 
 From paying the gratifications i fpoke of. I would excufe 
 all ftudents deiigned for the miniftry of the goipel. There 
 is no faculty fo immediately neceiTary to the' goverment 
 of a nation as that of theolgy, and as we ought to have great 
 numbers of divines for the iervice of this iiland, I would not 
 have the meaner people difcouraged from bringing up their 
 children to that function. For though wealthy men, if they 
 have many fens, fometimes make one of them a clergyman, 
 as we fee even perfons of quality take up holy orders, and 
 there are likewife people cf goodfenfe, efpecialiy divines, that 
 from a principle of prudence bring up their children to that 
 profeffion, when they are morally allured that they have 
 friends or intereft enough, and (hall be able, either by a 
 good fellowihip at the univeriity, advowfens, or other means 
 to procure them a livelihood : but thefe produce not the 
 large number of divines that are yearly ordained, and for 
 the bulk of the clergy, we are indebted to another original. 
 
 Among the middling people of ail trades there are bigots 
 who have a fuperftitious awe for a gown and calibc : of 
 thefe there are multitudes that feel an ardent defire of hav- 
 ing a fon promoted to the miniftry of the goipel, without 
 confidering what is to become of them afterwards ; and 
 many a kind mother in this kingdom, without confulting 
 her own circumftances or her child's capacity, transported 
 with this laudable wifh. is daily feafting on this pleahng 
 thought, and often before her ion is twelve years old, mix- 
 ing maternal love with devotion, throws herfelf into ecilafies 
 and tears of fatisfaclion, by reflecting on the future enjoyment 
 ike is to receive from feeing him (land in a pulpit, and, with 
 her own ears, hearing him preach the word of God. It is 
 to this religious zeal, or at leaf! the human frailties that pafs 
 for and represent it, that we owe the great plenty cf poor 
 fcholars the nation enjoys. For, confidering the inequality 
 of livings, and the frnallnefs of benefices up and down the 
 kingdom, without this happy difpofition in parents of fmall 
 fortune, w r e could not poftibly be furnilhed from any other 
 quarter with proper perfons for the miniftry, to attend all 
 the cures of fouls, fo pitifully provided for, that no mortal 
 could live upon them that had been educated in any tole- 
 rable plenty, unlefs he was poiTeiTed of real virtue, which. 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS, I 85 
 
 it is foolifh and indeed injurious, we fhouid more expect from 
 the clergy than we generally find it in the laity. 
 
 The great care I would take to promote that part of learn- 
 ing which is more immediately ufeful to fociety, mould not 
 make me neglect the more curious and polite, but all the 
 liberal arts, and every branch of literature fhouid be en- 
 couraged throughout the kingdom, more than they are, if 
 my wifhing could do it. In every county, there fhouid be 
 one or more large- fchools, erected at the public charge, for 
 Latin and Greek, that mould be divided into fix or more 
 claries, with particular mailers in each of them. "The whole 
 fhouid be under the care and infpeciicn of fome men of 
 letters in authority, who would not only be titular governors, 
 but actually take pains at leaft twice a-year, in hearing every 
 clafs thoroughly examined by the m-uter of it, and not con- 
 tent themfelves with judging of the progreis the fcholars had 
 made for the themes and other exeiciies that had been made 
 out of their fight. 
 
 At the fame time, I would difcharge and hinder the mul- 
 tiplicity of thofe petty fchools, that never would have had 
 any exigence had the mailers of them not been extremely 
 indigent. It is a vulgar error, that nobody can fpell or 
 write Englith well without a little fmatch of Latin. This is 
 upheld by pedants for their own intereit, and by none 
 more ftrenuoufly maintained than fuch of them as are poor 
 fcholars in more than one fenie ; in the mean time it is an 
 abominable falsehood. I have known, and 1 am frill ac- 
 quainted with feveral, and fome of the fair fex, that never 
 learned any Latin, and yet kept to ftnct orthogragphy, and 
 write admirable good fenie ; where, on the other hand, every 
 body may meet with the fcriblings of pretended fcholars, at 
 leaft fuch as went to a grammer fchool for feveral years, that 
 have grammar faults and are ill fpelled. The underilanding 
 ; of Latin thoroughly, is highly neceiTary to all that are de- 
 figned for any of the learned profeflions, and I would have 
 no gentleman without literature ; even thofe who are to be 
 brought up attorneys, furgeons, and apothecaries, fhouid 
 be much better verfed in that language than generally they 
 are ; but to youth, who afterwards are to get a livelihood 
 in trades and callings in which Latin is not daily wanted, it 
 is of no ufe, and the learning of it an evident lofs of jurl fo 
 much time and money as are beftowed upon it. When men 
 pome into bufinefs, what was taught them of it, in thofe 
 
1 86 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 petty fchools is either foon forgot, or only fit to make them 
 impertinent, and often very troublefome in company. Few 
 men can forbear valuing themfelves on any knowledge they 
 had once acquired, even after they have loft it ; and, unlefs 
 they are very modeft and difcreet, the undigefted fcraps 
 which fuch people commonly remember of Latin, feldom 
 fail of rendering them, at one time or other, ridiculous to 
 thofe who underfland it. 
 
 Reading and writing I would treat as we do mufic and 
 dancing, I would not hinder them nor force them upon the 
 fociety : as long as there was any thing to be got by them, 
 there would be mailers enough to teach them ; but nothing 
 fhould be taught for nothing but at church: and here I 
 would exclude even thofe who might be dehgned for the 
 miniftry of the gofpel ; for, if parents are fo miferably poor 
 that they cannot afford their children thefe firft elements of 
 learning, it is impudence in them to afpire any further. 
 
 It would encourage, likewife, the lower fort of people to 
 give their children this part of education, if they could fee 
 them preferred to thofe of idle fots or forry rake-hells, that 
 never knew what it was to provide a rag for their brats but 
 by begging. But now, when a boy or a girl are wanted for 
 any fmall iervice, we reckon it a duty to employ our char 
 rity children before any other. The education of them 
 lpoks like a reward for being vicious and unaclive, a benefit 
 commonly bellowed on parents, who deierve to be punifhed 
 for ihamefully neglecting their families. In one place you 
 may hear a rafcal half drunk, damning himfelf, call fqr tlie 
 other pot, and as a good reafon for it, add, that his boy is 
 provided for in clothes, and has his fchooling for nothing : 
 In another you fhall fee a poor woman in great neceflity, 
 whofe child is to be taken care of, becaufe herielf is a lazy 
 ilut, and never did any thing to remedy |ier wants in good 
 earneit, but bewailing them at a gin-fhop. 
 
 If every body's children are well taught, who, by their 
 own induilry, can educate them at our univerfities, there 
 will be men of learning enough to fupply this nation and 
 fuch another; and reading, writing, or arithmetic, would 
 never be wanting in the buiineis that requires them, though 
 none were to learn them but fuch whofe parents could be at 
 the charge of it. It is not with letters as it is with the gifts 
 of the Holy Glial!:, that they may not be purchafed with 
 mdrtey ; and bought wit, if we believe the proverb, is none 
 of the worft. 5 
 
AND CHAHITY SCHOOLS. iS? 
 
 I thought it neceffary to fay thus much of learning, to ob- 
 viate the clamours of the enemies to truth and fair dealing, 
 who, had I not fo amply explained myfelf on this head, would 
 have reprefented me as a mortal foe to all literature and ufe- 
 ful knowledge, and a wicked advocate for univerfal ignorance 
 and ftupidity. I mail now make good my promife, of an- 
 fwering what 1 know the well-wifners to charity fchools 
 would object againft me, by faying that they brought up the 
 children under their care, to warrantable and laborious 
 trades, and not to idlenefs as I did infinuate. 
 
 I have fufficiently ihowed already, why going to fchool 
 was idlenefs if compared to working, and exploded this fort 
 of education in the children of the poor, becauie it incapaci- 
 tates them ever after for downright labour, which is their 
 proper province, and, in every civil fociety, a portion they 
 ought not to repine or grumble at, if exacted from them with 
 difcretion and humanity. What remains, is, that I fhould 
 fpeak as to their putting them out to trades, which I fnall 
 endeavour to demonflrate to be denructive to the harmony 
 of a nation, and an impertinent intermeddling with what 
 few of thefe governors know any thing of. 
 
 In order to this, let us examine into the nature of focieties, 
 and what the compound ought to coniifl of, if we would 
 raife it to as high a degree of ftrength, -beauty, and perfection, 
 as the ground we are to do it upon will let us. The variety of 
 fervices that are required to fupply the luxurious and wanton 
 defires, as well as real neceffities of man, with all their fubor- 
 dmate callings, is in fuch a nation as ours prodigious; yet it is 
 certain that though the number of thofe feveral occupations 
 be exceffively great, it is far from being infinite; if you add 
 one more than is required, it mull be fuperfluous. If a man 
 had a good flock, and the belt lhop in Cheapfide to fell tur- 
 bants in, he would be ruined; and if Demetrius, or any other 
 filverfmith, made nothing but Diana's fhrines, he would not 
 get his bread, now the worlhip of that goddefs is out of 
 fafhion. As it is folly to fet up trades that are not w T anted ? 
 fo what is next to it is to increale in any one trade, the num- 
 bers beyond what are required. As things are managed with 
 us, it would be prepollerous to have as many brewers as 
 there are bakers, or as many w 7 oollen-drapers as there are 
 fhoeuiakers. This proportion as to numbers, in every trade, 
 finds i tie If, and is never better kept than when nobody med- 
 dles or interferes with it. 
 
233 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 People that have children to educate that muft get their 
 livelihood, are always confulting and deliberating what trade 
 or calling they are to bring them up to, until they are fixed; 
 and thouiands think on this, that hardly think at all on any 
 thing elfe. Firft, they confine themfelves to their circum- 
 itances, and he that can give but ten pounds with his fori 
 mufl not look out for a trade, where they alk an hundred 
 with an apprentice ; but the next they think on, is always 
 which will be the moft advantageous ; if there be a calling 
 where at that time people are more generally employed than 
 they are in any other in the fame reach, there are prefently 
 half a fcore fathers ready to fupply it with their fons. There- 
 fore the greateft care moft companies have, is about the regu- 
 lation of the number of apprentices. Now, when all trades com- 
 plain, and perhaps juftly, that they are overstocked, you ma- 
 mfeftly injure that trade, to which you add one member more 
 than would flow from the nature of fociety. Befides that, 
 the governors of charity fchools do not deliberate fo much 
 what trade is the beft, but what tradefmen they can get that 
 w 7 ill take the boys, with fuch a fum ; and few men of fub- 
 itance and experience will have any thing to do with thefe 
 children ; they are afraid of a hundred inconveniencies from 
 the neceflitous parents of them : fo that they are bound, at 
 leaft molt commonly, either to fots and neglectful mailers, or 
 elfe fuch as are very needy and do not care what becomes of 
 their apprentices, after they have received the money ; by 
 which it feems as if we ftudied nothing more than to have a, 
 perpetual nurfery for charity fchools. 
 
 When all trades and handicrafts are overdocked, it is a 
 certain fign there is a fault in the management of the whole ; 
 for it is impoflible there mould be too many people if the 
 country is able to feed them. Are proviiions dear ? Whole 
 fault is that, as long as you have ground untilled and hands 
 unemployed? But I fhall be anfwered, that to increaie plenty, 
 mud at long-run undo the farmer, or leffen the rents all over 
 England. To which I reply, that what the hufbandman 
 complains of moft, is what I would redrefs : the greater! 
 grievance of farmers, gardners, and others, where hard labour 
 is required, and dirty work to be done, is, that they cannot 
 get fervants for the fame wages they ufed to have them at. 
 The day-labourer grumbles at fixteen pence to do no other 
 drudgery, than what thirty years ago his grandfather did 
 cheerfully for half the money. Aa to the renLs, it is impof* 
 
AND CHARITY-SCHOOLS. I 89 
 
 fible they fhould fall while you increafe your numbers ; but 
 the price of proviiions, and all labour in general, muft fall 
 with them, if not before ; and a man of a hundred and fifty 
 pounds a-year, has no reafon to complain that his income is 
 redi.ced to one hundred, if he can buy as much for that one 
 hundred as before he could have done for two. 
 
 There is no intrinlic worth in money, but what is alterable 
 with the times ; and whether a guinea goes for Twenty 
 pounds or for a (hilling, it is (as I have already hinted be- 
 fore) the labour of the poor, and not the high and low value 
 that is fet on gold or filver, which all the comforts of life 
 mud ariie from. It is in our power to have a much greater 
 plenty than we enjoy, if agriculture and hmery were taken 
 care of, as they might be ; but we are fo little capable of in- 
 creating our labour, that we have hardly poor enough to do 
 what is necerTary to make us fubmt. The proportion of the 
 fociety is fpoiled, and the bulk of the nation, which fhould 
 every where conhft of labouring poor, that are unacquainted 
 with every thing but their work, is too little for the other 
 parts. In all bufmefs where downright labour is fhunned or 
 over- paid, there is plenty of people. To one merchant you 
 have ten book keepers, or at lean: pretenders; and every 
 where in the country the farmer wants hands. Afk for a 
 footman that for fome time has been in gentlemen's families, 
 and you will get a dozen that are all butlers. You may have 
 chamber-maids by the fcore, but you cannot get a- cook un- 
 der extravagant wages. 
 
 Nobody will do the dirty flavifh work, that can help it. I 
 do not difcommend them; but allthefe things fhow, that the 
 people of the meanefl rank, know too much to be ferviceable 
 to us. Servants require more than mailers and miitrerTes can 
 afford ; and what madnefs is it to encourage them in this, by 
 induilrioufly increahng at our eoft, that knowledge, which 
 they will be fure to make us pay for over again ! And it is 
 not only that thofe who are educated at our own expence, 
 encroach upon us, but the raw ignorant country wenches and 
 boobily fellows that can do, and are good for nothing, mi- 
 pofe upon us likewife. The fcarcity of fervants occalioned 
 by the education of the firft, gives a handle to the latter of 
 advancing their price, and demanding what ought only to 
 be given to fervants that underiland their buiinefs, and have 
 moit of the good qualities that can be required in them. 
 There is no place in the world where there are more clever 
 3 
 
190 AN ESSAY ON CMARIT1T 
 
 fellows to look at, or to do an errand, than fome of our foot- 
 men ; but what are they good for in the main ? The greateil 
 part of them are rogues, and not to be trufted ; and if they are 
 lioneft, half of them are fots, and will get drunk three or four 
 times a week. The furly ones are generally quarrelfome, 
 and valuing their manhood beyond all other coniiderations, 
 care not what clothes they fpoil, or what difappointments 
 they may occaiion, when their prowefs is in querlion. Thofe 
 who are good-natured, are generally fad whore mailers, that 
 are ever running after the wenches, and fpoil all the maid-fer- 
 vants they come near. Many of them are guilty of all thefe 
 vices, whoring, drinking, quarreling, and yet ihall have all 
 their faults overlooked and bore with, becaufe they are men 
 of good mien and humble addrefs, that know how to wait on 
 genrlemen ; which is an unpardonable folly in mailers, and 
 generally ends in the ruin of fervants. 
 
 Some few there are, that are not addicted to any of thefe 
 failings, and underftand their duty beiides ; but as thefe are 
 rarities, fo there is not one in fifty but what over-rates 
 himfelf ; his wages muil be extravagant, and you can ne- 
 ver have done giving him ; every thing in the houfe is his 
 perquiiite, and he will not ilay with you unlefs his vails are 
 i licient to maintain a middling family ; and though you had 
 taken him from the dunghill, out of an hofpital, or a prifon, 
 you ihall never keep him longer than he can make of his 
 place, what in his high eftimation of himfelf he ihall think 
 he deferves ; nay, the beil and moil civilized, that never 
 were faucy and impertinent, will leave the moil indulgent 
 mailer, and, to get handfomely away, frame fifty excuies, 
 and tell downright lies, as foon as they can mend themfelves. 
 A man, who keeps an half-crown or twelve-penny ordinary, 
 looks not more for money from his cuflomers, than a foot- 
 man does from every gueil that dines or fups with his mailer ; 
 and I querlion whether the one does not often think a mill- 
 ing or half-a-crown, according to the quality of the perfon, 
 his due as much as the other. 
 
 A hotfekeeper, who cannot afford to make many enter- 
 tainments, and does not often invite people to his table, can 
 have no creditable man-fervant, and is forced to take up 
 with fome country booby, or other awkward fellow, who will 
 likewife give him the flip, as foon as he imagines himfelf fit 
 for any other fervice, and is made wifer by his rafcally com- 
 panions. Ail noted eating-houfes, and places that many 
 

 AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. I Of 
 
 gentlemen refort to for diyerfion or buhnefs, more efpecially 
 the precincts of Weftminfter-hall, are the great fchools for 
 fervants, where the dulleft fellows may have their underftand- 
 ings improved ; and get rid at once of their ftupidity and 
 their innocence. They are the academies for footmen, 
 where public lectures are daily read, on all fciences of low 
 debauchery, by the experienced profeflbrs of them ; and ftu- 
 dents are inftrufted in above feven hundred illiberal arts, how 
 to cheat, impofe upon, and find out the blind fide of their 
 mailers, with fo much application, that in few years they be- 
 come graduates in iniquity. Young gentlemen and others, 
 that are not thoroughly verfed in the world, when they get 
 fuch knowing (harpers in their fervice, are commonly in- 
 dulging above meafure ; and for fear of difcovering their 
 want of experience, hardly dare to contradict or deny them 
 any thing, which is often the reafon, that by allowing them 
 unreafonable privileges, they expofe their ignorance when 
 they are molt endeavouring to conceal it. 
 
 Some perhaps will lay the things I complain of to the 
 charge of luxury, of which I faid that it could do no hurt to 
 a rich nation, if the imports never did exceed the exports; 
 but I do not think this imputation juft, and nothing ought to 
 be fcored on the account of luxury, that is downright the 
 effect of folly. A man may be very extravagant in indulging 
 his eafe and his pleafure, and render the enjoyment of the 
 world as operofe and expenfive as they can be made, if he 
 can afford it, and, at the fame time, fhow his good fenfe in 
 every thing about him : This he cannot be faid to do, if he 
 induitnoufly renders his people incapable of doing him that 
 fervice he expects from them. It is too much money, ex- 
 ceilive wages, and unreafonable vails, that fpoil fervants in 
 England. A man may have five and twenty horfes in his 
 flables, without being guilty of folly, if it fuits with the reft 
 of his circumitances ; but if he keeps but one, and overfeeds 
 it to fhow his wealth, he is a fool for his pains. Is it not 
 madnels to fuffer, that fervants fhould take three, and others 
 five per cent, of what they pay to tradeimen for their maf- 
 ters, as is fo well known to watchmakers, and others that 
 fell toys, fuperfluous nicknacks, and other curiofities. if they 
 deal with people of quality and fafhionable gentlemen, that 
 are above telling their own money ? If they fhould accept 
 of a prefent when offered, it might be connived at, but it is 
 an unpardonable impudence that they mould claim it as 
 
lg2 AN" ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 their due, and contend for it if refufed. Thofe who ha* 
 the necelTaries of life provided for, can have no occafion for 
 money, but what does them hurt as fervants, unlefs they 
 were to hoard it up for age or hckneis, which, among our 
 ikip-kennels, is not very common, and even then it makes 
 them faucy and infupportable. 
 
 I am credibly informed, that a parcel of footmen are arrived 
 to that height of iniblence, as to have entered into afociety 
 together, and made laws, by which they oblige themfelves not 
 to ferve for lefs than fuch a mm, nor carry burdens, or any 
 bundle or parcel above a certain weight, not exceeding two 
 or three pounds, with other regulations directly oppofite to 
 the interefi of thofe they ferve, and altogether deilruclive 
 to the ufe they were deligned for. If any of them be turn- 
 ed away for ilrictly adhering to the orders of this honour- 
 able corporation, he is taken care of till another fervice is 
 provided for him ; and there is no money wanting at any 
 time to commence and maintain a law-fuit againft any mai- 
 ter that fhall pretend to ilnke, or offer any other injury to his 
 gentleman footman, contrary to the ftatutes of their fociety. 
 If this be true, as 1 have reSon to believe it is, and they are 
 iuffered to go on in ccnfulting and providing for their own 
 eafe and ccnveniency any further, we may expect quickly to 
 fee the French comedy, Le Maitre le Valet acted in good 
 earned in moil famines, which, if not redreifed in a little 
 time, and thofe footmen increafe their company to the num- 
 ber it is poliible they may, as well as aflemble when they 
 pleafe with impunity, it will be in their power to make a 
 tragedy of it whenever they have a mind to it. 
 
 But fuppofe thofe apprehenficns frivolous and groundlefs, 
 it is undeniable that fervants, in general, are daily encroach- 
 ing upon mailers and miilrefTes, and endeavouring to be 
 more upon the level with them. They not only feem foli- 
 citous to abolifh the low dignity of their condition, but have 
 already ccniiderably rah edit in the common eilimation from 
 the original meannefs which the public welfare requires it 
 fhould always remain in. 1 do not fay that theie things are 
 altogether owing to charity fchools, there are other evils 
 they may be partly afcribed to. London is too big for the 
 country, and, in ieveral refpecls, we are wanting to our- 
 felves. But if a thoufand faults were to concur before the 
 inconveniences could be produced we labour under, can any 
 man doubt, who will ccniider what 1 have laid, that charity 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS, IQ3 
 
 fchools are acceflary, or, at lead, that they are more likely to 
 create and increafe than to leffen or redrefs thofe complaints? 
 
 The only thing of weight, then, that can be faid in their 
 behalf is, that fo many thoufand children are educated by 
 them in the Chriftian faith, and the principles of the church 
 of England. To demoniirate that this is not a fufficient plea 
 for them, I muft delire the reader, as I hate repetitions, to 
 look back on what I have faid before, to which mall add, 
 that whatever is neceflary to falvation, and requifite for poor 
 labouring people to know concerning religion, that children 
 learn at fchool, may fully as well either by preach ng or ca- 
 techizing be taught at church, from which, or fpme other 
 place of worfhip, I would not have the meaner! of a pariili 
 that is able to walk to it be abfent on Sundays. It is the 
 Sabbath, the moil ufeful day in feven, that is fet apart for di- 
 vine fervice and religious excrcife, as well as reftihg from bo- 
 dily labour; and it is a duty incumbent on all ma gill rates, 
 to take particular care of that day. The poor more efpeejafc 
 ly and their children, mould be made to go to church on it* 
 both in the fore and afternoon, becaufe they have no time on 
 any other. By precept and example they ought to be en- 
 couraged and ufed to it from their very infancy ; the wilful ne- 
 glect of it ought to be counted fcandalous, and if downright 
 compulsion to whatT urge might feem too harm, and perhaps 
 impracticable, all diverfions at lead ought ftrictry to be pro- 
 hibited, and the poor hindered from every amufement abroad 
 that might allure or draw them from it. 
 
 Where this care is taken by the magiilrates, as far as it 
 lies in their power, mlnitiers of the gofpel may in ml into 
 the fmalleil capacities, more piety and devotion, and better 
 principles of virtue and religion, than charity fchools ever 
 did or ever will produce; and thofe who complain, when 
 they have fuch opportunities, that they cannot imbue their 
 parifhioners with fufficient knowledge, of what they ftand in 
 need of as Chrifiians, without the affiftance of reading and 
 writing, are either very lazy or very ignorant and unde- 
 ferving themfelves. 
 
 That the moil knowing are not the*moft religious, will be 
 evident if we make a trial between people of different abili- 
 ties, even in this juncture, where going to church is not made 
 fuch an obligation on the poor and illiterate, as it might be. 
 Let us pitch upon a hundred poor men, che fifft we can light 
 on, that are above forty, and were bruugrit up to hard ia- 
 
 O 
 
194 AN £SSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 bour from their infancy, fuch as never went to fchool at all, 
 and always lived remote from knowledge and great towns : 
 Let us compare to thefe an equal number of very goodfcho- 
 lars, that mall all have had univerfity education, and be, if 
 you will, half of them divines, well verfed in philology and 
 polemic learning ; then let us impartially examine into the 
 lives and converfations of both, and I dare engage that 
 among the firft, who can neither read nor write, we fhall meet 
 with more union and neighbourly love, lefs wickednefs and 
 attachment to the world, more content of mind, more inno- 
 cence, fmcerity, and other good qualities that conduce to the 
 public peace and real felicity, than we fhall find among 
 the latter, where, on the contrary, we may be allured of the 
 height of pride and infolence, eternal quarrels and diilenfions, 
 irreconcileable hatreds, ftrife, envy, calumny, and other vices, 
 deftructive to mutual concord, which the illiterate labouring 
 poor are hardly ever tainted with, to any confiderable de- 
 gree. ^ 
 
 I am very well perfuaded, that what I have faid in the laft 
 paragraph, will be no news to molt of my readers; but if it 
 be truth, why Ihould it be ftirled, and why muft our concern 
 for religion be eternally made a cloak to hide our real drifts 
 and worldly intentions? Would both parties agree to pull off 
 the mafk, we iliould foon difcoverthat whatever they pretend 
 to, they aim at nothing fo much in charity fchools, as to 
 ftrengthen their party ; and that the great {ticklers for the 
 church, by educating children in the principles of religion, 
 mean nifpiring them with a fuperlative veneration for the 
 clergy of the church of England, and a ftrong averfion and 
 immortal animofity againft all that diiTent from it. To be 
 allured of this, we are but to mind on the one hand, what di- 
 vines are moft admired for their charity fermons, and mod 
 fond to preach them; and on the other, whether of late years 
 we have had any riots or party fcuffles among the mob, in 
 which the youth of a famous hofpital in this city, were not 
 always the moft forward ringleaders. 
 
 The grand afferters of liberty, who are ever guarding, 
 themfelves, and ikirmifhing againft arbitrary power, often 
 when they are in no danger of it, are generally fpeaking, 
 not very fuperititious, nor feem to lay great ltrefs on any mo- 
 dern apoitielir.p : "yet fome of thefe likewife fpeak up loudly 
 for charity fchools; but what they expecl from them has no 
 relation to religion or morality : they only look upon them 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. 1 95 
 
 us the proper means to deftroy, and difappoint the power of 
 the priefts over the laity. Reading and writing increafe 
 "knowledge ; and the more men know, the better they can 
 judge for themfelves, and they imagine that, if knowledge 
 could be rendered univerfal, people could not be prieft-rid, 
 which is the thing they fear the moft. 
 
 The fTrft, I confefs, it is very poffible will get their aim. 
 But fure wife men that are not red-hot for a party, or bigots 
 to the priefts, will not think it worth while to fufter fo many 
 inconveniencies, as charity fchools may be the occafion of, 
 only to promote the ambition and power of the clergy. To 
 the other I would anfwer, that if all thofe who are educated 
 at the charge of their parents or relations, will but think for 
 themfelves, and refufe to have their reaibn impoied upon by 
 the priefts, we need not be concerned for what the clergy 
 wili work upon the ignorant that have no education at all. 
 Let them make the moft of them : confidering the fchools 
 we have for thofe who can and do pay for learning, it is ri- 
 diculous to imagine that the abolifhing of charity fchools 
 would be a ftep towards any ignorance that could be preju- 
 dicial to the nation. 
 
 I would not be thought cruel, and am well aflured if I 
 know any thing of myfelf, that I abhor inhumanity ; but to 
 be companionate to excels, where reafon forbids it, and the 
 general intereft of the fociety requires fteadinefs of thought 
 and refolution, is an unpardonable weaknefs. I know it will 
 be ever urged againft me, that it is barbarous the children of 
 the poor fhould have no opportunity of exerting themfelves, 
 as long as God has not debarred them from natural parts 
 and genius, more than the rich. But I cannot think this is 
 harder, than it is that they fhould not have money, as long as 
 they have the fame inclinations to fpend as others. That 
 great and ufeful men have fprung from hofpitals, I do not 
 deny ; but it is likewife very probable, that when they were 
 iirft employed, many as capable as themfelves not brought 
 up in hofpitals were neglected, that with the fame good for- 
 tune would have done as well as they, if they had been made 
 ufe of inftead of them. 
 
 There are many examples of women that have excelled in 
 learning, and even in war, but this is no reafon we fhould 
 bring them all up to Latin and Greek, or elie military dif- 
 cipline, inftead of needle- work and houfewifery. But there 
 is no fcarcity of fprightlinefs or natural parts among us, and 
 O2 
 
I go AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 no foil and climate has human creatures to boafl of better 
 formed, either infide or outiide, than this ifland generally pro- 
 duces. But it is not wit, genius, or docility we want, but 
 diligence, application, and affiduity. 
 
 Abundance of hard and dirty labour is to be done, and 
 coarfe living is to be complied with : where fhall we find a 
 better nurfery for thefe necefflties than the children of the 
 poor ? none, certainly, are nearer to it or fitter for it : Be- 
 sides that the things I called hardfhips, neither feem nor 
 are fuch to thofe who have been brought up to them, and 
 know no better. There is not a more contented people 
 among us, than thofe who work the harder!:, and are the 
 lead acquainted with the pomp and delicacies of the world. 
 
 Thefe are truths that are undeniable ; yet I know few 
 people w T ill be pleafed to have them divulged ; what makes 
 them odious, is an unreafonable vein of petty reverence for 
 the poor, that runs through moil multitudes, and more par- 
 ticularly in this nation, and arifes from a mixture of pity, 
 folly, and fuperflition. It is from a lively fenfe of this com- 
 pound, that men cannot endure to hear or fee any thing faid 
 or acted againfl the poor ; without confidering how jult the 
 tone, or infolent the othsr. So a beggar muft not be beat, 
 though he ftrikes you firit. Journeymen tailors go to law 
 with their mailers, and are obftinate in a wrong caufe,' yet 
 they muft be pitied ; and murmuring weavers mull be re- 
 lieved, and have fifty filly things done to humour them, 
 though in the midft of their poverty they infult their betters, 
 and, on all occafions, appear to be more prone to make 
 holidays and riots than they are to working or fobriety. 
 
 This puts me in mind of our wool, which, confidering the 
 pofture of our affairs, and the behaviour of the poor, 1 iin- 
 cerely believe, ought not, upon any account, to be carried 
 abroad : but if we look into the reafon, why fullering it. to 
 be fetched away is To pernicious, our heavy complaint and 
 lamentations that it is exported can be no great credit to us. 
 Confidering the mighty and manifold hazards that muft be 
 run before it can be got olTthe coall,and fafely landed beyond 
 fea, it is manifeii that the foreigners, before they can work 
 our wool, mull pay more for it very considerably, than what 
 w r e can have it for at home. Yet, notwithstanding this 
 great difference in the prime cofl, they can afford to fell the 
 manufa6lur.es made of it cheaper at foreign markets than 
 ourfelves. This is the difafter we groan under, the intole- 
 rable mifchief, without which the exportation of that com- 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. I97 
 
 modity could be no greater prejudice to us than that of tin 
 or lead, as long as our hands were fully employed, and we 
 had ftill \Vool to fpare. 
 
 There is no people yet come to higher perfection in th£ 
 woollen manufacture, either as to diipatch or goodnefs of 
 work, at leatt in the molt confxderable branches, than our- 
 felves ; and therefore what we complain of can only depend 
 on the difference in the management of the poor, between 
 other nations and ours. If the labouring people in one 
 country will work twelve hours in a day, and fix days 
 in a week, and in another they are employed but eight 
 hours in a day, and not above four days in a week the 
 one is obliged to have nine hands for what the other 
 does with four. But if, moreover, the living, the food, 
 and raiment, and what is coniumed by the workmen of 
 the induftrious, coils but half the money of what is ex- 
 pended among an equal number of the other, the eonfe- 
 quence mull be, that the firfl will have the work of eighteen 
 men for the fame price as the other gives for the work ot 
 four. I would not infinuate, neither do I think, that the 
 difference, either in diligence or neceffaries of life between 
 us and any neighbouring nation, is near fo great as what I 
 fpeak of, yet I would have it confidered, that half of that 
 difference, and much lefs, is fulficient to over-balance the 
 difadvantage they labour under as to the price of wool. 
 
 3 thing to me is more evident, than that no nation in any 
 manufacture whatever can underfell their neighbours with 
 whom they are at beft but equals as to (kill and diipatch, 
 and the conveniency for working, more efpecially when the 
 prime cod of the thing to be manufactured is not in their 
 favour, unlefs they have proviiions, and whatever is relating 
 to their fuitenance, cheaper, or elfe workmen that are either 
 more ailidaous, and will remain longer at their work, or be 
 content with a meaner and coarier way of living than thofe 
 of their neighbours. This is certain, that where numbers 
 are equal, the more laborious people are, and the fewer 
 hands the fame quantity of work is performed by, the greater 
 plenty there is in a country of the neceiTaries for life, the 
 more confiderable and the cheaper that country may render 
 its exports. 
 
 It being granted, then, that abundance of work is to be 
 done, the next thing which I think to be hkewife undeniable, 
 is, that the more cheerfully it is done' the better, as well for 
 
 0»3 
 
I90 AN ESSAY ON*»€HARITY 
 
 thofe that perform it, as for the reft of the fociety. To be 
 happy is to be pleafed, and the lefs notion a man has of a 
 better way of living, the more content he will be with his 
 own ; and, on the other hand, the greater a man's know- 
 ledge and experience is in the world, the more exquifite the 
 delicacy of his tafte, and the more confummate judge he is of 
 things in general, certainly the more difficult it will be to 
 pleafe him. I would not advance any thing that is barba- 
 rous or inhuman : but when a man enjoys himfelf, laughs 
 and Sags, and in his gefture and behaviour mows me all the 
 tokens of content and fatisfaclion, I pronounce him happy, 
 and have nothing to do with his wit or capacity. I never 
 enter into the reafonablenefs of his mirth, at leaft I ought 
 not to judge of it by my own llandard, and argue from the 
 effecl: which the thing that makes him merry would have 
 upon me. At that rate, a man that hates cheefe mud call 
 me fool for loving blue mold. De gujlibus turn eft difputandum 
 is as true in a metaphorical, as it is in the literal fenfe ; and 
 the greater the diltance is between people as to their condi- 
 tion, their circumitances and manner of living, the lefs capable 
 they are of judging of one anotbers troubles or pleafures. 
 
 Had the meaner! and moil uncivilized peafant leave incog- 
 nito to obferve the greateit king for a fortnight ; though he 
 might pick out feveral things he would like for himfelf, yet he 
 would find a great many more, which, if the monarch and he 
 were to change conditions, he would wifn for his part to have 
 immediately altered or redrefled, and which with amazement 
 he fees £he king fubmit to. And again, if the fovereign was 
 to examine the peafant in the fame manner, his labour would 
 be unfufferable ; the dirt and fqualor, his diet and amours, his 
 paftimes and recreations would be all abominable; but then 
 what charms would he find in the other's peace of mind, the 
 calmnefs and tranquillity of his foul? No neceffity for 
 diffimulation with any of his family, or feigned affe&ion 
 to his mortal enemies ; no wife in a foreign intereft, no dan- 
 ger to apprehend from his children ; no plots to unravel, no 
 poifon to fear ; no popular ftatefman at home, or cunning 
 courts abroad to manage ; no feeming patriots to bribe ; no 
 unfatiable favourite to gratify ; no felfifh miniftry to obey ; 
 no divided nation to pleafe, or fickle mob to humour, tha,t 
 would direct and interfere with his pleafures. 
 
 Was impartial reafon to be judge between real good and 
 real evil, and a catalogue made accordingly, of the feveral 
 delights and vexations differently to be met with in both fla- 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. IGO 
 
 tions : I queition whether the condition of kings would be 
 tit all preferable to that of peafants. even as ignorant and la- 
 borious as I feem to require the latter to be. The reaion 
 why the generality of people would rather be kings than 
 peafants, is nrit owing to pride and ambition, that is deeply 
 riveted in human nature, and which to gratify, we daily fee 
 men undergo anddefpiie the greateit hazards and difficulties. 
 .Secondly, to the difference there is in the force with which 
 our affection is wrought upon, as the objects are either ma- 
 terial or fpiritual. Things that immediately ltrike our out- 
 ward fenies, act more violently upon our paffons than what 
 is the refult of thought, and the dictates of the molt demon- 
 fixative reafon ; and there is a much ftronger bias to gain our 
 liking or averiion in the rlnt, than there is in the latter. 
 
 Having thus demonstrated that what I urge could be no 
 injury, or the leaft diminution of happinefs to the poor, I 
 leave it to the judicious reader, whether it is not more pro- 
 bable we fhould increafe our exports by the methods I hint 
 at, than by fitting itill and damning and linking our neigh- 
 bours, for beating us at our own weapons ; fome of them 
 out-felling us in manufactures made of our own product, 
 which they dearly purchafed, others growing rich in fpite of 
 diitance and trouble, by the fame flm which we neglect, 
 though it is ready to jump into our mouths. 
 
 As by difcouraging idleneis with art and fteadinefs, you 
 may compel the poor to labour without foiAe . fo, by bringing 
 them up in ignorance, you may inure them to realhardfhips, 
 without being ever fenlible themfelves that they are fuch. 
 By bringing them up in ignorance, I mean no more, as I have 
 hinted long ago, than that, as to worldly affairs, their kn 
 ledge fhould be confined within the verge of their own occu- 
 pations, at lean: that we fhould not take pains to extend it be- 
 yond thole limits. When by thele two engines we mail 
 have made provilions, and consequently labour cheap, we 
 mult infallibly outlell our neighbours ; and at the fame time 
 increafe our numbers. This is the noble and manly way of 
 encountering the rivals of our trade, and by dint of merit 
 outdoing them at foreign markets. 
 
 To allure the poor, we make ufe of policy in fome cafes 
 with fuccefs. Why mould we be neglectful of it in the moil 
 important point, when they make their boalt that they will 
 not live as the poor of other nations ? If we cannot alter their 
 refolution, why fhould we applaud the juitnefs of their fen* 
 
 o 4 
 
2CO AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 timents againit the common intereft ? I have often wondered 
 formerly how an Englifhman that pretended to have the ho- 
 nour and glory, as well as the welfare of his country at heart, 
 could take delight in the evening to hear an idle tenant that 
 owed him above a year's rent, ridicule the French for 
 wearing wooden fhoes, when in the morning he had had 
 the mortification of hearing, the great King William, that 
 ambitious monarch, as well as able iiatefrnan, openly own. 
 to the world, and with grief and anger in his looks, complain 
 of the exorbitant power of France. Yet I do not recom- 
 mend wooden fhoes, nor do the maxims I would introduce 
 require arbitrary power in one pericn. Liberty and proper- 
 ty I hope may remain fecured, and yet the poor be better 
 employed than they are, though their children ihould wear 
 / :ir clothes by ufeful labour, and blacken them with 
 country dirt for fomething, inilead of tearing them off their 
 backs at play, and daubing them with ink for nothing. 
 
 There is above three or four hundred years work, for a 
 hundred thoufand poor more than we have in tkis ifland. 
 To make every part of it ufeful, and the whole thoroughly 
 inhabited, many rivers are to be made navigable ; canals to 
 he cut in hundreds of places. Some lands are to be drained 
 and fecured from inundations for the future : abundance of 
 barren foil is to be made fertile, and thoufands of acres ren- 
 dered more beneficial, by being made more acceflible. Dii 
 laboribus ovinia veruiunt. There is no difficulty of this nature, 
 that labour and patience cannot furmount. The higher! 
 mountains may be thrown into their valleys that itand ready 
 to receive them ; and bridges might be laid where now we 
 would not dare to think of it. Let us look back on the ftu- 
 pendous works of the Romans, more especially their high- 
 ways and aqueducts. Let us confider in one view the vaft 
 extent of feveral of their roads, how fubitantial they made 
 them, and what duration they have been of; and in another 
 a poor traveller that at every ten miles end is (topped by a 
 turnpike, and dunned for a penny for mending the roads in 
 the fummer, with what every body knows will be dirt before 
 the winter that fucceeds is expired. 
 
 The conveniency of the public ought ever to be the public 
 care, and nc, private intereil of a town, or a whole country, 
 ihould ever hinder the execution of a project or contrivance 
 that would maniferlly tend to the improvement of the whole ; 
 and every member of the legiflature, who knows his duty, 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS. 20 1 
 
 and would choofe rather to act like a wife man, than curryl 
 favour with his neighbours, will prefer the leait benefit ac- 
 cruing to the whole kingdom, to the mpft vilible advantage 
 of the place he ferves for. 
 
 We have materials of our own, and Want neither ftone nor 
 timber to dojinv thing ; and was the money that people 
 give uncompeiled to beggars, who do not deferve it, and what 
 every housekeeper is obliged to pay to the poor of his pariih, 
 that is other wife employed or ill- applied, to be put together 
 every year, it would make a fufhcient fund to keep a great 
 many thouiands at work. I do not lay this becaufe I think 
 it practicable, but only, to fhow that we have money enough 
 to fpare. to employ vaft multitudes of labourers ; neither 
 fhouid we want fo much for it as we perhaps might imagine. 
 When it is taken for granted, that a foldier, whofe ftrength 
 and vigour is to be kept up at leail as much as any body's, 
 can live upon lixpence a-day, I cannot conceive the necef- 
 fity of giving the greater! part of the year, flxteen and 
 eighteen pence to a day-labourer. 
 
 The fearful and cautious people, that are ever jealous of 
 their liberty, I know will cry out, that where the multitudes 
 I ipeak of ihould be kept in conftant pay, property and pri- 
 vileges would be precarious. But they might be anfwered, 
 that fare means might be found out, and fach regulations 
 made, as to the hands in which to truft the management and 
 direction of theleiabourers, that it would be impouiole ror 
 the prince, or any body elie, to make an ill ufe of their num- 
 bers. 
 
 What I have faid in the four or five laft paragraphs, I fore- 
 fee, will, with abundance of fcorn, be laughed at by many of 
 my readers, and at bell be Called building caftles in the air ; 
 but whether that is my fault or theirs is a queition. Y. 
 the public fpirit has left a nation, they no: ; . . r pa- 
 
 tience with it, and all thoughts of perfeveran : Dome 
 
 like wile fo narrow- fouled, that it is a pain ror them even 
 to think of things that are of vml Amnion extent, or require 
 great length of time \ and whatever is noble or fublr 
 fuch conjectures, is counted chimerical. Where deep igno- 
 rance is entirely routed and expelled, and low learn: .- g pi 
 mifcuoully fcattered on all the people; fell- love turns know- 
 ledge into cunning; and the more this laft qualification pre- 
 vails in any country, the more the people will fix all their 
 - concern, and application, on the time prelent, without 
 
1Q1 AN ESSAY ON CHARITY 
 
 regard of what is to come after them, or hardly ever think- 
 ing beyond the next generation. 
 
 But as cunning, according to my Lord Verulam, is but 
 left-handed wifdom ; fo a prudent legiflator ought to pro- 
 vide againft this diforder of the fociety, as foon as the fymp- 
 toms of it appear, among which the following are the moil 
 obvious. Imaginary rewards are generally defpifed ; every 
 body is for turning the penny, and fliort bargains ; he that is 
 diffident of every thing and believes nothing but what he 
 fees with his own eyes, is counted the moft prudent ; and in 
 all their dealings, men feem to act from no other principle 
 than that of the devil take the hindmoft. Inftead of plant- 
 ing oaks, that will require a hundred and fifty years before 
 they are fit to be cut down, they build houfes with a defign 
 that they fhail not Hand above twelve or fourteen years. All 
 heads run upon the uncertainty of things, and the viciilitudes 
 of human affairs. The mathematics become the only valu- 
 able ftudy, and are made ufe of in every thing, even where 
 it is ridiculous, and men feem to repofe no greater truil in 
 Providence than they would in a broken merchant. 
 
 It is the bufmefs of the public to fupply the defects of the 
 fociety, and take that in hand firft which is moft neglected 
 by private perfons. Contraries are belt cured by contraries, 
 and therefore, as example is of greater efficacy than precept, 
 in the amendment of national failings, the legiflature ought 
 to refolve upon fome great undertakings, that muft be the 
 work of ages as well as vaft labour, and convince the world 
 that they did nothing without an anxious regard to their later]: 
 pofterity. This will fix, or at leaft help to fettle, the volatile 
 genius and fickle fpirit of the kingdom; put us in mind that 
 we are not born for ourfelves only, and be a means of ren- 
 dering men lefs diftruftful, and infpiring them with a true 
 love for their country, and a tender affection for the ground 
 itfelf, than which nothing is more neceffary to aggrandize a 
 nation. Forms of government may alter ; religions and 
 even languages may change, but Great Britain, or at leaft 
 (if that like wife might lofe its name) the iiland itfelf will re- 
 main, and in all human probability, laft as long as any part 
 of the globe. All ages have ever paid their kind acknow- 
 ledgments to their anqeftors, for the benefits derived from 
 them; and a Chriftian who enjoys the multitude of foun- 
 tains, and vaft plenty of water to be met with in the city of 
 >St, Peter, is an ungrateful wretch if he never cafts a thank- 
 
 7 
 
AND CHARITY SCHOOLS, 203 
 
 ful remembrance on old Pagan Rome, that took fuch pro- 
 digious pains to procure it. 
 
 When this ifland fliall be cultivated, and every inch of it 
 made habitable and ufeful, and the whole the moil conveni- 
 ent and agreeable fpot upon earth, all the cod and labour laid 
 out upon it, will be gloriouily repaid by the incenfe of them 
 that mail come after us ; and thofe who burn with the noble 
 zeal and defire after immortality, and took fuch care to im- 
 prove their country, may reft fatisried, that a thoufand and 
 two thoufand years hence, they (hall live in the memory and 
 everlafting praifes of the future ages that fhall then enjoy it. 
 
 Here I mould have concluded this rhapfody of thoughts ; 
 but fomething comes in my head concerning the main fcope 
 and delign of this elTay, which is to prove the neceffity there 
 is for a certain portion of ignorance, in a well-ordered focie- 
 ty, that 1 mull not omit, becaufe, by mentioning it, I fliall 
 make an argument on my fide, of what, if 1 had not fpoke of 
 it, might eafily have appeared as a ftrong objection againft 
 me. It is the opinion of mod people, and mine among the 
 reft, that the moft commendable quality of the prefent Czar 
 of Mufcovy, is his unwearied application, in railing his fub- 
 jects from their native ftupidity, and civilizing his nation : 
 but then we mult coniider it is what they ftood in need of, 
 and that not long ago the greater!: part of them were next to 
 brute beafts. In proportion to the extent of his dominions, 
 and the multitudes he commands, he had not that number 
 or variety of tradefmen and artificers, which the true im- 
 provement of the country required, and therefore was in the 
 right, in leaving no ftone unturned to procure them. But 
 what is that to us who labour under a contrary difeafe? 
 Sound politics are to the focial body, what the art of medi- 
 cine is to the natural, and no phyfician would treat a man 
 in a lethargy as if he was iick for want of reft, or prefcribe 
 in a dropfy what mould be adminiftrcd in a diabetes. In 
 fhort, Ruffia has too few knowing men, and Great Britain 
 too many. 
 
y 
 
SEARCH 
 
 INTO THE 
 
 NATURE OF SOCIETY. 
 
 1 he generality of moralifts and philofophers have hitherto 
 agreed that there could be no virtue without felf-denial ; 
 but a late author, who is now much read by men of ienfe, 
 is of a contrary opinion, and imagines that men, without 
 any trouble, or violence upon themfelves, may be naturally 
 virtuous. He feems to require and expect goodnefs in his 
 fpecies, as we do a fweet talte in grapes and China oranges, 
 of which, if any of them are four, we boldly pronounce 
 that they are not come to that perfe&on their nature is ca- 
 pable of. This noble writer (for it is the Lord Shafteibary 
 I mean in his Characleriitics) fancies, that as a man is made 
 for fociety, fo he ought to be born with a kind affection to 
 the whole, of which he is a part, and a propenfity to feek 
 the welfare of it. In purfuance of this fuppofition, he calls 
 every action performed with regard to the public good, Vir- 
 tuous ; and all felfifhnefs, wholly excluding fuch a regard, 
 Vice. In refpecl to our fpecies, he looks upon virtue and 
 vice as permanent realities, that mull ever be the fame in all 
 countries and all ages, and imagines that a man of found un- 
 deritandmg, by following the rules of good fenfe, may not 
 only find out that pulchrum et honejlum both in morality and 
 the w T orks of art and nature, but hkewile govern himfelf, by 
 his reafon, with as much eafe and readmefs a^ a good rider 
 manages a well- taught horie by the bridle. 
 
 The attentive reader, who perufed the foregoing part of 
 this bock, will foon perceive that two fy items cannot be 
 more oppofite than his Lordfhip's and mine. His notions I 
 confefs, are generous and reiined : they are a high compli- 
 ment to human-kind, and capable, by a little enthufiuirn, 
 of infpiring us with the moil noble ientiments concerning 
 the dignity of our exalted nature. What pity it is that they are 
 not true. I would not advance thus much if I had not al- 
 ready demonilrated, in almoli ever page of this treatife, that 
 the folidity of them is inconliilent with our daily experience, 
 
200 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 But, to leave not the lead fliadow of an objection that might 
 be made unanfwered, I defign to expatiate on fome things 
 which hitherto I have but nightly touched upon, in order 
 to convince the reader, not only that the good and amiable 
 qualities of men are not thofe that make him beyond other 
 animals a fociable creature ; but, moreover, that it would be 
 utterly impoffible, either to raife any multitudes into a popu- 
 lous, rich, and flourifhing nation, or, when fo railed, to keep 
 and maintain them in that condition, without the afiiitance 
 of what we call Evil, both natural and moral. 
 
 The better to perform what I have undertaken, I mall 
 previouily examine into the reality of the pulchrum et honeft- 
 um, the to kcIxov that the ancients have talked of fo much : 
 the meaning of this is to difcufs, whether there be a real 
 worth and excellency in things, a pre-eminence of one above 
 another ; which every body will always agree to that well 
 underftands them ; or, that there are few things, if any, 
 that have the fame efteem paid them, and which the fame 
 judgment is parTed upon in all countries and all ages. When 
 we firft let out in quell of this intrinfic worth, and find one 
 thing better than another, and a third better than that, and 
 fo on, we begin to entertain great hopes of fuccefs ; but 
 when we meet with feveral things that are all very good or 
 all very bad, we are puzzled, and agree not always with our- 
 felves, much lefs with others. There are different faults as 
 well as beauties, that as modes and fafhions alter and men 
 vary in their taft.es and humours, will be differently admired 
 or difapproved of. 
 
 Judges of painting will never difagree in opinion, when 
 a fine picture is compared to the daubing of a novice ; but 
 how ftrangely have they differed as to the works of eminent 
 matters ! There are parties among connohTeurs ; and few 
 *©f them agree in their efteem as to ages and countries ; and 
 the belt pictures bear not always the belt prices : a noted 
 original will be ever worth more than any copy that can be 
 made of it by an unknown hand, though it mould be better. 
 The value that is fet on paintings depends not only on the 
 name of the matter, and the time of his age he drew them in, 
 but likewife in a great meafure on the fcarcity of his works; 
 but, what is ftill more unreaibnable,the quality of the perfons 
 in whole pofTeffion they are, as well as the length of time 
 they have been in great families ; and if the Cartons, now 
 at Hampton-Court, were done by a lefs famous hand than 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY* 207 
 
 that of Raphael, and had a private perfon for their owner, 
 who would be forced to fell them, they would never yield 
 the tenth part of the money which, with all their grofs faults, 
 they are now efteemed to be worth. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, I will readily own, that the 
 judgment to be made of painting might become of univer- 
 fal certainty, or at leaft lefs alterable and precarious than al- 
 moft any thing elfe. The reafon is plain ; there is a fiandard 
 to go by that always remains the fame. Painting is an imi- 
 tation of nature, a copying of things which men have every 
 where before them. My good humoured reader I hope will 
 forgive me, if, thinking on this glorious invention, I make 
 a reflection a little out of feafon, though very much condu- 
 cive to my main defign ; which is, that valuable as the art 
 is I fpeak of, we are beholden to an imperfection in the 
 chief of our fenfes for all the pleafures and ravifhing delight 
 we receive from this happy deceit. I ihall explain myfelf. 
 Air and fpace are no objeds of fight, but as foon as we can 
 fee with the leaft attention, we obferve that the bulk of the 
 things we fee is leifened by degrees, as they are further re- 
 mote from us, and nothing but experience, gained from theie 
 obfervations, can teach us to make any tolerable gueffes at 
 the diftance of things. If one born blind mould remain fo 
 till twenty, and then be fuddenly bleffed with light, he 
 would be ftrangely puzzled as to the difference of diitances, 
 and hardly able, immediately, by his eyes alone, to deter- 
 mine which was nearer! to him, a poll almoft within the 
 j reach of his flick, or a fteeple that mould be half a mile 
 ofF. Let us look as narrowly as we can upon a hole in a wall 
 that has nothing but the open air behind it, and we fhall 
 not be able to fee otherwife, but that the iky fills up the 
 vacuity, and is as near us as the back part of the ftones that 
 circumfcribe the fpace where they are wanting. This cir- 
 cumftance, not to call it a defect, in our fenfe of feeing, 
 makes us liable to be impofed upon, and every thing, but 
 motion, may, by art, be reprefented to us on a flat, in the 
 fame manner as we fee them in life and nature. If a man 
 ! had never feen this art put into practice, a looking-giafs 
 j might foon convince him that fuch a thing was pohible, and 
 I I cannot help thinking, but that the reflections from very 
 I fmooth and well-poliflied bodies made upon our eyes, mull 
 I have given the firit handle to the inventions of drawings and 
 I painting. 
 
208 A SEARCH INTO TUB 
 
 In the works of nature, worth, and excellency, are as 
 uncertain : and even in human creatures, what is beautiful 
 in one country, is not fo in another. How whimfical is the 
 florift in his choice ! Sometimes the tulip, fometimes the 
 auric ;1 a, and at other times the carnation ihall engrofs his 
 eftee <i, and every year a new flower, in his judgment, beats 
 ■all the old ones, though it is much inferior to them both in 
 colour and fhape. Three hundred years ago men were 
 flirted as clofely as they are now : Since that they have 
 wore beards, and cut them in vafc variety of forms, that 
 Were all as becoming, when fafhionable, as now they would 
 be ridiculous. How mean and comically a man look's, that 
 is otherwife well drefled, in a narrow brimed hat, when e- 
 very body wears broad ones ; and again, how monftrous is a 
 very great hat, when the other extreme has been in fafhion 
 for a considerable time h experience has taught us, that thefe 
 modes feldom laft above ten or twelve years, and a man of 
 three/core mud have obferved five or fix revolutions of them 
 at leaft ! yet the beginnings of thefe changes, though we 
 have feen feveral, feem always uncouth, and are olFeniive a- 
 frefli whenever they return. What mortal can decide which 
 is the handibmeft, abfhact from the mode in being, to wear 
 great buttons or fmall ones ? the many ways of laying out a 
 garden judicioufly are almoii. innumerable; and what is call- 
 ed beautiful in them, varies according to the different taites 
 of nations and ages. In grafs plats, knots and parterres, a 
 great diverfity of forms is generally agreeable ; but a round 
 may be as pleafing to the eye as a fquare : an oval cannot 
 be more fuitable to one place, than it is poffible for a triangle 
 to be to another ; and the pre-eminence an oclogon has 
 over an hexagon is no greater in figures, than at hazard 
 eight has above fix among the chances. 
 » Churches, ever fince Chriftians have been able to build 
 them, refemble the4Vflki of a .cjpfs, with the upper end point- 
 ing toward the eaft ; and an architect, where there is room, 
 and it can be conveniently dojie, who fhould neglect it, would 
 be thought to have, committed an unpardonable fault ; but 
 it would be foolifh to expect this of a Turkifli mofque or a 
 Pagan temple. Among the many beneficial laws that have 
 been made thefe hundred years, it is not eafy to name one 
 of greater utility, and, at the fame time, more exempt from 
 all inconveniences, than that which has regulated the dreflei 
 of the dead. Thofe who were old enough to take notic 
 
 i 
 
Nature of society. 2C9 
 
 " things when that act. was made, and are yet alive, muft re- 
 member the general clamour that was made againft it- At 
 firft, nothing could be more mocking to thoufands of people 
 than that they were to be buried in woollen, and the only 
 thing that made that law fupportable was, that there was 
 room left for people of fome fafhion to indulge their weak- 
 nefs without extravagancy ; confidering the other expences 
 of funerals where mourning is given to feveral, and rings to 
 a great many. The benefit that accrues to the nation from 
 it is fo vilible, that nothing ever could be faid in reafon to 
 condemn it, which, in few years, made the horror conceived 
 againft it leften every day. I obferved then that young 
 people, who had ieen but few in their coffins, did the fooneft 
 ftrike in with the innovation ; but that thofe who, when the 
 act was made, had buried many friends and relations, re- 
 mained averfe to it the longed, and I remember many that 
 never could be reconciled to it to their dying day. By this 
 time, burying in linen being almoft forgot, it is the general 
 opinion that nothing could be more decent than woollen, 
 and the prefent manner of dreffing a corps ; which iliows 
 that our liking or diiliking of things chiefly depends on mode 
 and cuftom, and the precept and example of our betters, 
 and fuch whom one way or other we think to be fuperior to 
 us. 
 
 In morals there is no greater certainty. Plurality of wives 
 is odious among Chriftians, and all the wit and learning of a 
 great genius in defence of it, has been rejected with con- 
 tempt : But polygamy is not {hocking to a Mahometan. 
 What men have learned from their infancy enflaves them, 
 and the force of cuftom warps nature, and, at the fame time, 
 imitates her in fuch a manner, that it is often difficult to know 
 which of the two we are influenced by. In the eaft, former- 
 ly lifters married brothers, and it was meritorious for a man 
 to marry his mother. Such alliances are abominable ; but it 
 is certain that, whatever horror we conceive at the thoughts 
 of them, there is nothing in nature repugnant againft them, 
 but what is built upon mode and cuftom. A religious Ma- 
 hometan that has never tafted any fpirituous liquor, and has 
 often feen people drunk, may receive as great an averflon 
 againft wine, as another with us of the leaft morality and edu- 
 cation may have againft lying with his lifter, and both ima- 
 gine that their antipathy proceeds from nature. Which is 
 the beft religion ? is a queftion that has caufed more mifehief 
 
2XCT A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 than all other questions together. Afc it at Pekin, at Con- 
 ilantinople, and at Rome, and you will receive three diftinct 
 anfwers extremely different from one another, yet all of 
 them equally poiitive and peremptory. Chriftians are well 
 affured of the falfity of the Pagan and Mahometan fuperfti- 
 tions : as to this point, there is a perfect union and concord 
 among them ; but inquire of therfeveral feels they are divid- 
 ed into, Which is the true church of Chriil ? and all of them 
 will tell you it is theirs, and to convince you, go together 
 by the ears. 
 
 It is manifed, then, that the hunting after this piilchram 
 if honejlwn, is not much better than a wild-goofe- chafe that 
 is but little to be depended on : But this is not the greater! 
 fault I find with it. The imaginary notions that men may 
 be virtuous without felf denial, are a vaft inlet to hypoenfy ; 
 which being once made habitual, we mult not only deceive 
 others, but likewife become altogether unknown to our- 
 felves ; and in an inftance I am going to give, it w r ill appear, 
 how, for want of duly examining himfelf, this might happen 
 to a perfon of quality, of parts, and erudition, one every way 
 refembling the author of the Characleriftics himfelf. 
 
 A man that has been brought up in eafe and affluence, if 
 he is of a quiet indolent nature, learns to lhun every thing 
 that is troublefome, and choofes to curb ins paffions, more 
 becaufe of the inconveniences that arife from the eager pur- 
 fuit after pleafure, and the yielding to all the demands of 
 cur inclinations, than any diflike he has to fenfual enjoy- 
 ments ; and it is poffible, that a perfon educated under a 
 ^reat philofopher, who was a mild and good-natured, as well 
 as able tutor, may, infuch happy circumftances, have a bet- 
 ter opinion of his inward ftate than it really deferves, and 
 believe himfelf virtuous, becaufe his paffions lie dormant. 
 He may form fine notions of the focial virtues, and the con- 
 tempt of death, write well of them in his clofet, and talk elo- 
 quently of them in company, but you fhall never catch him 
 lighting for his country, or labouring to retrieve any national 
 loffes. A man that deals in metaphyfics may ealily throw 
 himfelf into an enthufiafm, and really believe that he does 
 not fear death while it remains out of fight. But mould he 
 be afked, why, having this intrepidity either from nature, or 
 acquired by philofophy, he did not follow arms when his 
 country was involved in war; or when he fa w the nation 
 daily robbed by thofe at the helm, and the affairs of the ex- 
 
 3 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 21 1 
 
 chequer perplexed, why he did not go to court, and make 
 ufe of all his friends and intered to be a lord treafurer, that 
 by his integrity and wife management, he might reftore the 
 public credit : It is probable he would anfwer that he loved 
 retirement, had no other ambition than to be a good man, 
 and never afpired to have any fhare in the government ; or 
 that he hated all flattery and flavifh attendance, the infince- 
 rity of courts andbuftle of the world. I am willing to be- 
 lieve him : but may not a man of an indolent temper and 
 una dive fpirit, fay, and be lincere in all this, and, at the fame 
 time, indulge his appetites without being able to fubdue 
 them, though his duty fummons him to it. Virtue conrifts 
 in action, and whoever is poiTefTed of this focial love and kind 
 affection to his fpecies, and by his birth or quality can claim 
 any poll in the public management, ought not to lit Hill 
 when he can be ferviceable, but exert himieif to the utmoft 
 for the good of his fellow fubjecls. Had this noble perfon 
 been of a warlike genius, or a boifterous temper, he would 
 have chofe another part in the drama of life, and preached a 
 quite contrary doctrine : For we are ever pufhing our reafon 
 wmich way foever we feel paffion to dra w it, and felf-love 
 pleads to all human creatures for their different views, ftill 
 furniihing every individual with arguments tojuftify their in- 
 clinations. 
 
 That boafted middle way, and the calm virtues recom- 
 mended in the Characterifcics, are good ror nothing but to 
 breed drones, and might qualify a man for the ilupid enjoy- 
 ments of a monadic life, or at be it a country juftice of 
 peace, but they would never fit him for labour and affiduity, 
 or Itir him up to great achievements and perilous under- 
 takings. Man's natural love of eafe and idlenefs, and 
 pronenefs to indulge his lenfual pleaiures, are not to be cured 
 by precept : His firong habits and inclinations can only be 
 fubdued by paffinns of greater violence. Preach and demon- 
 Urate to a coward the unreaibnablenefs of his fears, and you 
 will not make him valiant, more than you can make him tall- 
 er, by bidding him to be ten foot high, whereas the fecret to 
 raife courage, as I have made it public in Remark on 1. 32 1 9 
 is almoft infallibe. 
 
 The fear of death is the ftrongeft when we are in our 
 
 greateft vigour, and our appetite is keen ; when we are fharp-* 
 
 lighted, quick of hearing, and every part performs its office. 
 
 The reafon is plain, becaufe then life is molt delicious, and 
 
 P 2 
 
212 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 ourfelves moft capable of enjoying it. How comes it, 
 then, that a man of honour mould fo eafily accept of a chal- 
 lenge, though at thirty and in perfect, health ? It is his 
 pride that conquers his fear : For, when his pride is not con- 
 cerned, this fear will appear moft glaringly. If he is not ufed 
 to the fea, let him but be in a ftorm, or, if he never was ill 
 before, have but a fore throat, or a flight fever, and he will 
 fhow a thoufand anxieties, and in them the ineftimable va- 
 lue he fets on life. Had man been naturally humble and 
 proof againft flattery, the politician could never have had 
 his ends, or known what to have made of him. Without 
 vices, the excellency of the fpecies would have ever remain- 
 ed undifcovered, and every worthy that has made himfelf 
 famous in the world, is a flrong evidence againft this amiable 
 fyftem. 
 
 If the courage of the great Macedonian came up to dif- 
 fraction, when he fought alone againft a whole garrifon, his 
 madnefs was not lefs when he fancied himfelf to be a god, or 
 at leaft doubted whether he was or not ; and as foon as we 
 make this reflection, we difcover both the paffion and the 
 extravagancy of it, that buoyed up his fpirits in the moft im- 
 minent dangers, and carried him through all the difficulties 
 and fatigues he underwent. 
 
 There never was in the world a brighter example of an 
 able and complete magiftrate than Cicero : When I think 
 on his care and vigilance, the real hazards he flighted, and 
 the pains he took for the fafety of Rome ; his wifdom and 
 iagacity in detecting and difappointing the ftratagems of the 
 boldeft and moft fubtle confpirators, and, at the fame time, 
 on his love -to literature, arts, and fciences, his capacity in 
 metaphyfics, the juftnefs of his reafonings, the force of his 
 eloquence, the politenefs of his ftyle, and the genteel fpirit 
 that rims through his writings ; when I think, I fay, on all 
 thefe things together, I am ftruck with amazement, and the 
 leaft I can fay or him is, that he was a prodigious man. But 
 when I have fet the many good qualities he had in the beft 
 light, it is as evident to me on the other fide, that had his 
 vanity been inferior to his greateft excellency, the good 
 fenfe and knowledge of the world he was fo eminently pof- 
 fefTed of, could never have let him be fuch a fulfome as well 
 as noify trumpeter as he was of his own praifes, or fuffered 
 him rather than not proclaim his own merits to make a verfe 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 213 
 
 that a fchool boy would have been laughed at for. 0! 
 Fortunatafn, &c. 
 
 How ftrict and fevere was the morality of rigid Cato, how 
 fteady and unaffected the virtue of that grand afierter of Ro- 
 man liberty ! but though the equivalent this floick enjoyed, 
 for all the felf-denial and aufterity he practifed, remained long 
 concealed, and his peculiar modefty hid from the world, and 
 perhaps himfelf a vaft while, the frailty of his heart, that 
 forced him into heroifm, yet it was brought to light in the 
 laft fcene of his life, and by his fuicide it plainly appeared 
 that he was governed by a tyrannical power, fuperior to the 
 love of his country, and that the implacable hatred and fu- 
 perlative envy he bore to the glory, the real greatnefs and 
 perfonal merit of Csefar, had for a long time fwayed all his 
 actions under the moft noble pretences. Had not this vio- 
 lent motive over-ruled his confummate prudence, he might 
 not only have faved" himfelf, but likewiie moft of his friends 
 that were ruined by the !ofs of him, and would in all proba- 
 bility, if he could have ftooped to it, been the fecond man in 
 Rome. But he knew the boundlefs mind and unlimited ge- 
 nerofity of the victor : it was his clemency he feared, and 
 therefore chofe death becaufe it was lefs terrible to his pride, 
 than the thoughts of giving his mortal foe fo tempting an 
 opportunity of mowing the magnanimity of his foul, as Caefar 
 would have found in forgiving inch an inveterate enemy as 
 Cato, and offering him his friendfhip ; and which, it is 
 thought by the judicious, that penetrating as well as ambi- 
 tious conqueror would not have flipped, if the other had dar- 
 ed to live. 
 
 Another argument to prove the kind difpoiition, and real 
 affection we naturally have for our fpecies, is our love of com- 
 pany, and the averfion men that are in their fenfes generally 
 have to folitude, beyond other creatures. This bears a fine 
 glofs in the Characteriftics, and is let off in very good lan- 
 guage to the belt advantage : the next day after I read it 
 firft, I heard abundance of people cry frefli herrings, which, 
 with the reflexion on the vaft fhoals of that and other rifli 
 that are caught together, made me very merry, though I was 
 alone ; but as I was entertaining myfelf with this contem- 
 plation, came an impertinent idle fellow, whom I had the 
 misfortune to be known by, and afked me how I did, though 
 I was, and dare fay, looked as healthy and as well as ever I 
 was or did in my life. What I anfwered him I forgot, but 
 
 P 3 
 
$14 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 remember that I could not get rid of him in a good while, 
 and felt all the uneafinefs my friend Horace complains of, 
 from a perfecution of the like nature. 
 
 I would have no fagacious critic pronounce me a man- 
 hater from this ihort itory ; whoever does is very much mif- 
 taken. 1 am a gieat lover of company, and if the reader is 
 not quite tired with mine, before I fhow the weaknefs and 
 ridicule of that piece of flattery made to our fpecies, and 
 which I was juft now fpeaking of, I will give him a descrip- 
 tion of the man 1 would choofe for converfation, with a pro- 
 mife that before he has nnifhed, what at firit he might only 
 take for a digreliion foreign to my purpofe, he mail find the 
 uf- of it. 
 
 By early and artful inft ruction, he fhould be thoroughly 
 imbued with the notions of honour and fhame, and have 
 contracted an habitual averfion to every thing that has the 
 leaft tendency to impudence, rudenefs, or inhumanity. He 
 fhould be well verfed in the Latin tongue, and not ignorant 
 of the Greek, and moreover underftand one or two of the 
 modern languages belides his own. He fhould be acquaint- 
 ed with the fafliions and cuitoms of the ancients, but tho- 
 roughly fkilled in the hiftory of his own country, and the 
 manners of the age he lives in. He fhould befides literature, 
 have ftudied fome uleful fcience or other, feen fome foreign 
 courts and univerfities, and made the true ufe of travelling. 
 He fhould at times take delight in dancing, fencing, riding 
 the great horfe, and knowing fomething of hunting and other 
 country fports, without being attached to any, and he fhould 
 treat them all as either exercifes for health, or diverfions that 
 mould never interfere with bufinels, or the attaining to more 
 valuable qualifications. He fhould have a fmatch of geome- 
 try and aitronomy, as well as anatomy, and the economy of 
 human bodies ; to understand mufic fo as to perform, is an 
 accomplifhment : but there is abundance to be faid againft it; 
 and inilead of it, I would have him know fo much of draw- 
 ing as is required to take a landfkip, or explain ones meaning 
 of any form or model we would defcribe, but never to touch 
 a pencil. He fhould be very early ufed to the company of 
 modeit. women, and never be a fortnight without converting 
 with the ladies. 
 
 Grofs vices, as irreligion, whoring, gaming, drinking and 
 quarrelling, I will not mention : even the meaner!: education 
 guards us againit them; I would always recommend to him 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 21 5 
 
 the practice of virtue, but I am for no voluntary ignorance, 
 in a gentleman, of any thing that is done in court or city. 
 It is impoffible a man mould be perfect., and therefore there 
 are faults I would connive at, if 1 could not prevent them; 
 and if between the years of nineteen and three-and twenty, 
 youthful heat mould fometimes get the better of h s chaitity, 
 fo it was done with caution ; fhould he on tome extraordina- 
 ry occafion, overcome by the preffing folicitations of jovial 
 friends, drink more than was confident with ftricl: fobriety, 
 fo he did it very feldom and found it not to interfere with 
 his health or temper ; or if by the height of his mettle, and 
 great provocation in a juft caufe, he had been drawn into a 
 quarrel, which true wifdom and a lefs ftricl adherence to the 
 rules of honour, might have declined or prevented, fo it never 
 befel him above once : if I fay he mould have happened to be 
 guilty of theie things, and he would never fpeak, much lefs 
 brag of them himfelf, they might be pardoned, or at lead: 
 overlooked at the age I named, if he left off then and con- 
 tinued difcreet for ever after. The very difafters of youth, 
 have fometimes frightened gentlemen into a more fteady 
 prudence, than in all probability they would ever have been 
 mailers of without them. To keep him from turpitude and 
 things that are openly fcandalous, there is nothing better 
 than to procure him free accefs in one or two noble families, 
 where his frequent attendance is counted a duty : and while 
 by that means you preferve his pride, he is kept in a con- 
 tinual dread of fhame. 
 
 A man of a tolerable fortune, pretty near accomplifhed as 
 I have required him to be, that ftill improves himfelf and 
 fees the world till he is thirty, cannot be difagreeable to 
 converfe with, at leaft while he continues in health and pro- 
 fperity, and has nothing to fpoil his temper. When fuch a 
 one, either by chance or appointment, meets with three or 
 four of our equals, and all agree to pafs away a few hours to- 
 gether, the whole is what I call good company. There is 
 nothing faid in it that is not either inilrudive or divert- 
 ing to a man of fenfe. It is poffible they may not always be 
 of the fame opinion, but there can be no conteit between 
 any, but who fhall yield firft to the other he differs from. 
 One only fpeaks at a time, and no louder than to be plainly 
 underftood by him who fits the farther! off. The greateit 
 pleafure aimed at by every one of them, is to have the latif- 
 fection of pieafing others, which they all practically know- 
 
 *4 
 
2l6 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 may as effectually be done, by hearkening with attention 
 and an approving countenance, as we faid very good things 
 ourfelves. 
 
 Moll people of any tafte would like fuch a converfation, 
 and juftly prefer it to being alone, when they knew not how 
 to fpend their time ; but if they could employ themfelves in 
 fomething from which they expected, either a more folid or a 
 more lading fatisfaction, they would deny themfelves this 
 pleafure, and follow what was of greater confequence to 
 them. But would not a man, though he had feen no mortal 
 in a fortnight, remain alone as much longer, rather than get 
 into company of noify fellows, that take delight in contra- 
 diction, and place a glory in picking a quarrel? Would not 
 one that has books read for ever, or fet himfelf to write upon 
 fome fubjeci or other, rather than be every night with party- 
 men who count the iiland to be good for nothing, while their 
 adverfaries are fuffered to live upon it ? Would not a man be 
 by himfelf a month, and go to bed before feven a clock, ra- 
 ther than mix with fox-hunters, who having all day long 
 tried in vain to break their necks, join at night in a lecond 
 attempt upon their lives by drinking, and to exprefs their 
 mirth, are louder in fenfelefs founds within doors, than their 
 barking and lefs troublefome companions are only without ? 
 I have no great value for a man who would not rather tire 
 himfelf with walking ; or if he was fhut up fcatter pins about 
 the room in order to pick them up again, than keep compa- 
 ny for fix hours with half a fcore common failors the day 
 their fhip was paid off. 
 
 I will grant, neverthelefs, that the greater! part of man- 
 kind, rather than be alone any confiderable time, would fub- 
 mit to the things I named : but 1 cannot fee, why this love 
 of company, this ftrong delire after fociety, mould be conftru- 
 ed fo much in our favour, and alleged as a mark of fome in- 
 trinfic worth in man, not to be found in other animals. For 
 to prove from it the goodnefs of our nature, and a generous 
 love in man, extended beyond himfelf on the reft of his fpe- 
 cies, by virtue of which he was a fociable creature, this 
 eagernefs after company and averfion of being alone, ought 
 to have been moil confpicuous, and moil violent in the be ft 
 of their kind ; the men of the greateft genius, parts and ac- 
 companiments, and thofe who are the leait fubject to vice ; 
 the contrary of which is true. The weakeft minds, who can 
 the leaft govern their paffions, guilty confciences that abhor 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 217 
 
 reflexion, and the worthlefs, who are incapable of producing 
 any thing of their own that is uieful, are the greateit enemies 
 to folitude, and will take up with any company rather than 
 be without ; whereas, the men of fenfe and of knowledge, 
 that can think and contemplate on things, and fuch as are 
 but little difturbed by their pafiions, can bear to be by them- 
 felves the longed without reluctancy ; and, to avoid noife, 
 folly, and impertinence, will run away from twenty compa- 
 nies; and, rather than meet with any thing difagreeable to 
 their good tafle, will prefer their cloiet or a garden, nay, a 
 common or a defert to the fociety of fome men. 
 
 But let us fuppofe the love of company ib infeparable from 
 our fpecies, that no man could endure to be alone one mo- 
 ment, what concluiions could be drawn from this? Does not 
 man love company, as he does every thing elfe, for his own 
 fake ? No friendships or civilities are lading that are not re- 
 ciprocal. In all your weekly and daily meetings for diver- 
 sion, as well as annual feaits, and the molt lolemn caroufals, 
 every member that affiils at them has his own ends, and fome 
 frequent a club which they would never go to unlefs they 
 were the top of it. I have known a man who was the ora- 
 cle of the company, be very conftant, and as uneafy at any 
 thing that hindered him from coming at the hour, leave his 
 fociety altogether, as foon as another was added that could 
 match, and difputed fuperiority with him. There are peo- 
 ple who are incapable of holding an argument, and yet mali- 
 cious enough to take delight in hearing others wrangle; and 
 though they never concern themfelves in the controverfy, 
 would think a company inilpid where they could not have 
 that diverfion. A good houie, rich furniture, a fine garden, 
 horfes, dogs, anceitors, relations, beauty, ilrength, excellen- 
 cy in any thing whatever ; vices as well as virtue, may all 
 be acceffary to make men long for fociety, in hopes that 
 what they value themfelves upon will at one time or other 
 become the theme of the difcourie, and give an inward fa- 
 tisfaction to them. Even the moil polite people in the 
 world, and fuch as I fpoke of at firft, give no pleafure to 
 others that is not; repaid to their felf-love, and does not at 
 laJ. centre in themfelves, let them wind it and turn it as they 
 will. But the plainer! demonftration that in all clubs and 
 focieties of converiable people, every body has the greateit 
 coniideration forhimfelf, is, that the difinterefted, who rather 
 over-pays than wrangles; the good humoured, that is never 
 
 6 
 
21 8 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 wafpifli nor foon offended ; the eafy and Indolent, that hates 
 difputes and never talks for triumph, is every where the dar- 
 ling of the company : whereas, the man of fenfe and know- 
 ledge, that will not be impofed upon or talked out of his rea- 
 fon ; the man of genius and fpirit, that can fay (harp and witty 
 things, though he never lafhes but what deferves it ; the man 
 of honour, who neither gives nor takes an affront, maybe 
 efteemed, but is feldom fo well beloved as a weaker man lefs 
 accompli il ed. 
 
 As in thefe inlfances, the friendly qualities arife from our 
 contriving perpetually our own fatisfaction, fo, on other oc- 
 casions, they proceed from the natural timidity of man, and 
 the folicitous care he takes of himfelf. Two Londoners, 
 whole buiinefs oblige them not to have any commerce toge- 
 ther, may know, fee, and pais by one another every day upon 
 the Exchange, with not much greater civility than bulls 
 would: let them meet at Briitol they will pull offtheir hats, 
 and on the leaft opportunity enter into converfation, and be 
 glad of one another's company. When French, Englifh, 
 and Dutch, meet in China, or any other Pagan country, be- 
 ing all Europeans, they look upon one another as country- 
 men, and if no paflion interferes, will feel a natural propen- 
 sity to love one another. Nay, two men that are at enmity, 
 if they are forced to travel together, will often lay by their 
 animolities, be affable, and converfe in a friendly manner, 
 efpecially if the road be unfafe, and they are both ftrangers 
 in the place they are to go to. Thefe things by fuperficiai 
 judges, are attributed to mans fociablenefs, his natural pro- 
 pensity to fnendfhip and love of company ; but whoever 
 will duly examine things, and look into man mere narrowly, 
 will find, that on all thefe occalions we only endeavour to 
 Strengthen our lntereft, and are moved by the caufes already 
 alleged. 
 
 What I have endeavoured hitherto, has been to prove, 
 that the pulchrum et honejlum, excellency and real v\ orth of 
 things are moll commonly precarious and alteiabie as modes 
 and cuftoms vary ; that conlequently the inferences drawn 
 from their certainty are iniignmcant, and that the generous 
 notions concerning the natural goodnefs of man are hurtful, 
 as they tend to miilead,and are merely chimerical : the truth 
 of this latter 1 have illustrated by the mott obvious examples 
 in history. I have fpoke of our love of company and avenion 
 to Solitude, examined thoroughly the various motives ot them. 
 
Mature of society. »2i£ 
 
 and made it appear that they all centre in felf-love. I intend 
 now to investigate in:o the nature of fociety, and diving 
 into the very rile of it, make it evident, that net the good and 
 amiable, but the bad and hateful qualities of nan, his imper- 
 fections and the want of excellencies, which other creatures 
 are endued with, are the firft caufes that made man fociable 
 beyond other animals, the moment after he loft Paradiie; and 
 that if he had remained in his primitive innocence, and con- 
 tinued to enjoy the blefnngs that attended it, there is no 
 fhadow of probability that he ever would have become that 
 fociable creature he is now. 
 
 How necciiary cur appetites and paffions are for the wel- 
 fare of all trades and handicrafts, has been fufficiently prov- 
 ed throughout the book, and that they are our bad qualities, 
 or at lean: produce them, nobody denies. It remains then, 
 that I mould fet forth the variety of bbftacks that hinder 
 and perplex man in the labour he is conftantly employed in, 
 the procuring of what he wants ; and which in other words 
 is called the -buiinefs of felf-prefervation : while, at the fame 
 time, I demonftrate that the fociablenels of man ariies o&iy 
 from theie two things, viz. the multiplicity of his defires, and 
 the continual oppoiition he meets with in his endeavours to 
 gratify them. 
 
 The obftacles I fpeak of, relate either to our own frame, 
 or the globe we inhabit, 1 mean the condition of it. imce it 
 has been curled. I have often endeavoured to contemplate 
 feparately on the two things I named laii, but could nei er 
 keep themafunder; they always interfere and mix with one 
 another; and at laft make up together a frightful chaos of 
 evil. All the elements are our enemies, water d\ owns and 
 fire confumes thole who unikilfully approach them. The 
 earth in a thouiand places produces plants, and other vege- 
 tables that are hurtful to man, while me reedo and chenibes 
 a variety of creatures that are noxious to him ; and hitlers a 
 legion of poiibns to dwell within her : but the ai >fi unkind 
 of all the elements is that which we cannot live one moment 
 without : it is impoflibie to repeat all the injuries we receive 
 from the wind and weather ; and though the greaterl part of 
 mankind, have ever been employed in defending their fpe- 
 cies from the inclemency ot the air, yet no art or labour have 
 hitherto been able to nnd a iecuiity againft the wild rage of 
 fome meteors. 
 
220 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 Hurricanes, it is true, happen but feldcm, and few men are 
 fwallo. ed up by earthquakes, or devoured by lions; but 
 while we efcape thoie gigantic mifchiefs, we are perfecutedby 
 trifles. What a vaft variety of infects are tormenting to us; 
 what multitudes of them infult and make game of us with 
 impunity ! The moil defpicable fcruple not to trample and 
 graze upon us as cattle do upon a field : whichyet is oftenborn 
 with, if moderately they ufe their fortune ; but here again 
 our clemency becomes a vice, and io encroaching are their 
 cruelty and contempt of us on our pity, that they make lay- 
 flails of our hands, and devour our young ones if we are not 
 daily vigilant in purfuing and deilroying them. 
 
 There is nothing good in all the univerfe to the beft-de- 
 figning man. if either through miilake or ignorance he com- 
 mits the leail failing in the ufe of it ; there is no innocence 
 or integrity, that can protecl a man from a thoufand mif- 
 chiefs that furround him : on the contrary, every thing is evil, 
 which art and experience have not taught us to turn into a 
 bleiling. Therefore how diligent in harvefl time is the huf- 
 bandman, in getting in his crop and fheltering it from rain, 
 without which he could never have enjoyed it 1 x\s feaions 
 differ with the climates, experience has taught us differently 
 to make ufe of them, and in one part of the globe we may 
 fee the farmer fow while he is reaping in the other ; from all 
 which we may learn how vallly this earth mull have been al- 
 tered fince the fail of our firll parents. For fhould we trace, 
 man from his beautiful, his divine original, not proud of wif- 
 dom acquired by haughty precept or tedious experience, but 
 endued with conlummate knowledge the moment he was 
 formed ; I mean the Hate of innocence, in which no animal 
 nor vegetable upon earth, nor mineral under ground was 
 noxious to him, and himfelf fecured fiom the injuries of the 
 air as well as all other harms, was contented with the necef- 
 fanes of life, which the globe he inhabited furnifhed him 
 with, without his aflitlance. When yet not confcious of 
 guilt, he found himfelf in every place to be the well obeyed 
 unrivalled lord of all, and unaffecled with his greatnefs, was 
 wholly wrapped up in fublime meditations on the infinity 
 of his Creator, who daily did vouchfafe intelligibly to fpeak 
 to him, and viiit without milchief. 
 
 In fuch a golden age, no realbn or probability can be al- 
 leged, why mankind ever fhould have raifed themfelves into 
 fuch large focieties as there have been in the world, as long 
 
Nature of society. 221 
 
 as we can give any tolerable account of it. Where a man 
 has every thing he deiires, and nothing to vex or difturb him, 
 there is nothing can be added to his happinefs ; and it is im- 
 poflible to name a trade, art, fcienee, dignity, or employment, 
 that would not be iuperfiuous in fuch a bleffed ftate. If we 
 puriue this thought, we thall eafily perceive that no ibcieties 
 could have fprung from the amiable virtues and loving qua- 
 lities ot man ; but, on the contrary, that all of them mull: have 
 had the origin from his wants, his imperfections, and the va- 
 riety of his appetites : we fhall find likewiie. that the more 
 their pride and vanity are difplayed, and all their deiires en- 
 larged, the more capable they mull be of being railed into 
 large and vaiily numerous ibcieties. 
 
 Y\ r as the air always as inortennve to our naked bodies, and 
 as pleafent as to our thinking it is to the generality of birds 
 in fair weather, and man had not been affected with pride, 
 luxury and hypocrify, as well as lull, I cannot fee what could 
 have put us upon the invention of clothes and houfes. I 
 fhall fay nothing of jewels, of plate, painting, fculpture, fine 
 furniture, and all that rigid moralifls have called unrteceffary 
 and luperfl uons : but if we were not foon tired with walking 
 a-foot, and were as nimble as feme other animals ; if men 
 were naturally laborious, and none unreasonable in fe eking 
 and indulging their eafe, and likewiie free from other vices, 
 and the ground was every where even, ioiid and clean, who 
 would have thought of coaches or ventured on a horfe's back? 
 What occafion has the dolphin for a fhip, or what carriage 
 would an eagle aik to travel in ? 
 
 I hope the reader knows, that by fociety I underiland a 
 body politic, in which man either fubdued by fuperior force, 
 or by perfuafion drawn from his farage ilate, is become a 
 difciplined creature, that can iiiid his own ends in labouring 
 for others, and where under one head or other form of govern- 
 ment, each member is rendered lubfervient to the whole, and 
 all of them by cunning management are made to act as one. 
 For if by fociety we only mean a number of people, that 
 without rule or government, mould keep together, out of a 
 natural affection to their fpecies, or love of company, as a 
 herd of cows or a nock of ilieep, then there is not in the 
 world a more unfit creature for fociety than man ; an hun- 
 dred of them that mould be all equals,' under no fubjection, 
 or fear of any fuperior upon earth, could never live together 
 cc two hours without quarrelling, and the more know- 
 
'222 A SEARCH INTO THS 
 
 ledge, ftrength, wit, courage and refolution there was among 
 them, the worfe it would be. 
 
 It is probable, that in the wild ftate of nature, parents 
 w 7 ould keep a fuperiority over their children, at leaft while 
 they were in ftrength, and that even afterwards, the re- 
 membrance of what the others had experienced, might pro- 
 duce in them fomething between love and fear, which we 
 call reverence : it is probable, likewife, that the fecond gene- 
 ration following the example of the firit ; a man with a little 
 cunning would always be able, as long as he lived and had his 
 fenfes, to maintain a fuperior fway over all his own offspring 
 and defcendants, how numerous foever they might grow. 
 But the old flock once dead, the fons would quarrel, and 
 there could be no -peace long, before there had been war. 
 Elderfhip in brothers is of no great force, and the pre-emi- 
 nence that is given to it, only invented as a fhift to live in 
 peace. Man, as he is a fearful animal, naturally not rapa- 
 cious, loves peace and quiet, and he would never fight, if no- 
 body offended him, and he could have what he fights for 
 without* it. To this fearful difpofition, and the averiion he 
 has to his being difturbed, are owing all the various projects 
 and forms of government. Monarchy, without doubt, was 
 the-firft. Ariltocracy and democracy were two different 
 methods of mending the inconveniencies of the firft, and a 
 mixture of thefe three an improvement on all the red. 
 
 But be we lavages or politicians, it is impoffible that man, 
 mere fallen man, mould act with any other view but to pleafe 
 himfelf while he has the ufe of his organs, and the greateit 
 extravagancy either of love or defpair can have no other 
 centre. There is no difference between will and pleafure in 
 one fenfe, and every motion made in fpite of them muft be 
 unnatural and convulfive. Since, then, action is fo confined, 
 and we are always forced to do what we pleafe, and at the 
 fame time our thoughts are free and uncontrouled, it is im- 
 poffible we could be fociable creatures without hypocrify. 
 The proof ot this is plain, fmce we cannot prevent the 
 ideas that are continually arifmg within us, all civil com- 
 merce would be loft, if, by art and prudent diffimulation 
 we had not learned to hide and ilifle them ; and if all we 
 think was to be laid open to others, in the fame manner as 
 k is to ourfelves, it is impoffible that, endued with fpeech, 
 we could be fufferable to one another. I am perfuaded that 
 every reader feels the truth of what I fay ; and I tell my an- 
 
NATURE OF SOClfitY, 22'3 
 
 Tagonift that his confcience flies in his face, while his tongue 
 is preparing to refute me. In all civil focieties men are 
 taught infenfibly to be hypocrites from their cradle; no- 
 body dares to own that he gets by public calamities, or even 
 by the lofs of private perfons. The fexton would be Honed 
 mould he wiih openly for the death of the parifhoners, 
 though every body knew that he had nothing elfe to live 
 upon. 
 
 To me it is a great pleafure, when I look on the affairs 
 of human life, to behold into what various, and often itrangely 
 oppofite forms, the hope of gain and thoughts of lucre fhape 
 men, according to the different employments they are of,, 
 and ftations they are in. How gay and merry does every 
 face appear at a well ordered ball, and what a folemn fad- 
 nefs is obferved at the maiquerade of a funeral ! but the un- 
 dertaker is as much pleafed with his gains as the dancing- 
 mailer : both are equally tired in their occupations, and 
 the mirth of the one is as much forced as the gravity of the 
 other is affected. Thofe who have never minded the eon- 
 verfation of a fpruce mercer, and a young lady his curlomer 
 that comes to his mop, have neglected a fcene of life that is 
 very entertaining. I beg of my ferious reader, that he 
 would, for a while, abate a little of his gravity, and fuffer 
 me to examine thefe people feparately, as to their infide, and 
 the different motives they acl from. 
 
 His buiinefs is to fell as much filk as he can at a price by 
 which he mall get what he propofes to be reafonable, ac- 
 cording to the cuitomary profits of the trade. As to the 
 lady, what fhe would be at is to pleafe her fancy, and buy- 
 cheaper by a groat Or lixpence per yard than the things ihe 
 wants are commonly fold at. From the imprefTion the gal- 
 lantry of our fex has made upon her, me imagines (if fhe be 
 not very deformed) that fhe has a fine mien and eafy behavi- 
 our, and a peculiar fweetnefs of voice ; that fhe is handfome, 
 and if not beautiful, at leaf! more agreeable than moil young- 
 women flie knows. As me has no pretentions to purehafe 
 the fame things withlefs money than other people, but what 
 are built on her good qualities, fo fhe fets herfelf off to the 
 bell advantage her wit and difcretion will let her. The 
 thoughts of love are here out of the cafe; fo on the one 
 hand, ihe has no room for playing the tyrant, and giving 
 herfelf angry and peevnii airs, ana, on the other, more libercy 
 •f ipeakmg kindly, and being aftable than fhe can have aL 
 
124 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 moft on any other occalion. She knows that abundance of 
 well-bred people come to his fhop, and endeavours to ren- 
 der herfelfas amiable as virtue and the rules of decency 
 allow of. Coming with fuch a refolution of behaviour, fhe 
 cannot meet with any thing to ruffle her temper. 
 
 Before her coach is yet quite flopped, me is approached 
 by a gentleman-like man, that has every thing clean and 
 fafhionable about him, who in low obeifance pays her hom- 
 age, and as foon as her pleafure is known that fhe has a mind 
 to come in, hands her into the fhop, where immediately he 
 flips from her, and through a by-way that remains viiible 
 only for half a moment, with great addrefs entrenches him- 
 felf behind the counter : here facing her, with a profound 
 reverence and modifh phrafe, he begs the favour of knowing 
 her commands. Let her fay and diflike what (he pleafes, 
 ihe can never be directly contradicted : fhe deals with a man 
 in whom confummate patience is one of the myfteries of his 
 trade, and whatever trouble fhe creates fhe is fure to hear 
 nothing but the moft obliging language, and has always be- 
 fore her a cheerful countenance, where joy and refpecl feem 
 to be blended with good humour, and altogether make up 
 an artificial ferenity more engaging than untaught nature is- 
 able to produce. 
 
 When two perfons are fo well met, the converfation muft 
 be very agreeable, as well as extremely mannerly, though 
 they talk about trifles. While fhe remains irrefolute what 
 to take, he feems to be the fame in advifing her; and is very 
 cautious how to direct her choice ; but when once flie has 
 made it and is fixed, he immediately becomes pofitive, that 
 it is the belt of the fort, extols her fancy, and the more he 
 looks upon it, the more he wonders he mould not before 
 have discovered the pre-eminence of it over any thing he has 
 in his fhop. By precept, example, and great application, 
 he has learned unoblerved to Aide into the inmoit receffes 
 of the foul, found the capacity of his cuftomers, and find 
 out their blind fide unknown to them : by all which he is 
 inftrucled in fifty other flratagems to make her over- value 
 her own judgment as well as the commodity fhe would pur- 
 chafe. The greateft advantage he has over her, lies in the 
 moft material part of the commerce between them, the de- 
 bate about the price, which he knows to a farthing, and fhe 
 is wholly ignorant of: therefore he no where more egregi- 
 oufly impoies on her underftanding ; and though here ho has- 
 
MATURE OF SOCIL 12$ 
 
 linJ5 what lies he pleafes. as to the prime 
 coil, and oey he has refufed, yet he traits not to 
 
 them only ; but, attacking her vanity, makes her believe the 
 moil incredible things in the world, concerning his own 
 "mefs and her fuperior abilities ; he had taken a refolu- 
 tion, he lays, never to part with that piece under fuch a price, 
 but the has the power of talking him out of his goods beyond 
 any body he ever fold to : he proteils that he lofes by his 
 i:lk, but feeing that (he has a fancy for it, and is refolved to 
 give no more, rather than difoblige a lady he has fuch an un- 
 common value for, he will let her have it, and only begs 
 that anothe: time (he will not iland io hard with him. In 
 the mean time, the buyer, who knows that ike is no fool, and 
 has a voluble tongue, is eauiy periuaded that ike has a very 
 winning way of talking, and thinking it fufiicient, for the 
 fake of good-breeding, to difown her merit, and in fome 
 witty repartee retort the compliment, he makes her fwailow 
 very contentedly^ the fubilance of every thing he tells her. 
 The upfho: is. that, with the latisiacuon of having laved 
 ninepence per yard, for has bought her iilk exactly at the 
 fame price as any body elfe might have done, and often gives 
 iixpence more than, rather than not have fold it, he would 
 have taken. 
 
 It is poilible that this lady, for want of being fuflkiently 
 flattered, for a fault (he is pleafed to find in his behaviour, 
 or perhaps the tying of his neckcloth, or fome other diilike 
 as fubftantial, may be loll, and her cullom bellowed on 
 fome other of the fraternity. But where many of them live 
 in a duller, it is not always eaiily determined which fhop to 
 go to, and the reafons fome of the fair fex have for their 
 choice, are often very whimrical, andkept as great a fecret. We 
 never follow our inclinations with mere freedom, than where 
 they cannot be traced, and it is unreasonable for others ta 
 fufpect them. A virtuous woman has preferred one houie 
 to all the reft, becaufe ike had feen a handfome fellow in it, 
 and another of no bad character for having received greater 
 civility before it, than had been paid her any where elfe, 
 when fhe had no thoughts of buying, and was going to 
 Paul's church : for among the faikionable mercers, the fair 
 dealer mull keep before his own door, and to draw in ran- 
 dom cuftomers, make ufe of no other freedom or importuni- 
 ties than an obfequious air. with a liibmiiiive poilure, and per- 
 
226 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 haps a bow to every well drefled female that offers to look 
 towards his fhop. 
 
 What I have faid laft, makes me think on another way of 
 inviting cuftomers, the molt diftant in the world from what 
 I have been fpeaking of, I mean that which is praclifed by 
 the watermen, efpecially on thofe whom, by their mien and 
 garb, they know to be peafants. It is not unpleafant to fee 
 half a dozen people furround a man they never faw in their 
 lives before, and two of them that can get the neareft, clap- 
 ping each an arm over his neck, hug him in as loving and 
 familiar a manner, as if he was their brother newly come 
 home from an Eaft India voyage ; a third lays hold of his 
 hand, another of his fleeve, his coat, the buttons of it, or 
 any thing he can come at, while a fifth or a fixth, who has 
 fcampered twice round him already, without being able to 
 get at him, plants himfelf directly before the man in hold, 
 and within three inches of his nofe, contradicting his rivals 
 with an open mouthed cry, fhows him a dreadful fet of large 
 teeth, and a fmall remainder of chewed bread and cheeie, 
 which the countryman's arrival had hindered from being 
 i wallowed. 
 
 At all this no offence is taken, and the peafant jurlly 
 thinks they are making much of him ; therefore, far from 
 oppofing them, he patiently fufFers himfelf to be pufhed or 
 pulled which way the ftrength that furrounds him fhall di- 
 reel:. He has not the delicacy to find fault with a man's 
 breath, who has jufl blown' out his pipe, or a greafy head of 
 hair that is rubbing againft his chops : Dirt and fweat he 
 has been ufed to from his cradle, and it is no diiturbance to 
 him to hear half a fcore people, fome of them at his ear, and 
 the further! not five foot from him, bawl out as if he was- 
 a hundred yards off: He is confeious that he makes no lefs 
 noiie when he is merry himfelf, and is fecretly pleafed with 
 their boifterous ufages. The hawling and pulling him about 
 he conftrues the way it is intended ; it is a courtfliip he can 
 feel and underfland : He cannot help wifhing them well for 
 the efteem they feem to have for him : He loves to be taken 
 notice of, and admires the Londoners for being fo prefling in 
 the oilers of their fervice to him, for the value of threepence 
 or lefs ; whereas, iri the country at the fhop he ufes, he can 
 have nothing but he muft firft tell them what he wants, and, 
 though he lays out three or four millings at a time, has 
 hardly a word fpoke to him unlefs it be in anfwer to a quef- 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 227 
 
 tion himfelf is forced to afk firft. This alacrity in bis be- 
 half moves his gratitude, and, unwilling to difoblige any, 
 from his heart he knows not whom to choofe. I have feen 
 a man think all this, or fomething like it, as plainly as I could 
 fee the nofe in his face ; and, at the fame time, move along 
 very contentedly under a load of watermen, and with a 
 fmiling countenance carry {txen. or eight ftone more than 
 his own weight to the water fide. 
 
 If the little mirth I have fhown, in the drawing of thefe 
 two images from low life, mifbecomes me, I am forry for 
 it, but 1 promife not to be guilty of that fault any more, 
 and will now, without lofs of time, proceed with my argu- 
 ment in artlefs dull fimplicity, and demonilrate the grofs 
 error of thofe, who imagine that the focial virtues, and the 
 amiable qualities that are praiie-worthy in us, are equally 
 beneficial to the public as they are to the individual perfons 
 that are pofTefTed of them, and that the means of thriving, 
 and whatever conduces to the welfare and real happinefs of 
 private families, muft have the fame effect upon the whole 
 fociety. This, I confefs, I have laboured for all along, and 
 I flatter myfelf not unfuccefsfully : But I hope nobody will 
 like a problem the worfe for feeing the truth of it proved 
 more ways than one. 
 
 It is certain, that the fewer defires a man has, and the lefs 
 he covets, the more eafy he is to himfelf; the more active he 
 is to fupply his own wants, and the lefs he requires to be 
 waited upon, the mere he will be beloved, and the lefs 
 trouble he is in a family ; the more he loves peace and con- 
 cord the more charity he has for his neighbour, and the 
 more he Alines in real virtue, there is no doubt but that in 
 proportion he is acceptable to God and man. But let us be 
 juit, what benefit can thefe things be of, or what earthly 
 good can they do, to promote the wealth, the glory, and 
 worldly greatnefs of nations ? It is the fenfual courtier that 
 fe r s no limits to his luxury ; the fickle ftrumpet that invents 
 new fainions every week ; the haughty duchefs that in equi- 
 page, entertainments, and all her behaviour, would imitate a 
 puncefs ; the profufe rake and lavifh heir, that fcatter about 
 their money without wit or judgment, buy every thing 
 they fee, and either deltroy or give it away the next day ; the 
 covetous and perjured villain that iqueezed an immenie trea- 
 fure aura the tears of widows and orphans, and left the pro- 
 .digals the money to fpend : It is thefe that are the prey and 
 
 0.2 
 
12% A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 proper food of a full grown Leviathan ; or, in other words, 
 fuch is the calamitous condition of human affairs, that we 
 Hand m need of the plagues and monfters I named, to have 
 all the variety of labour performed, which the fkill of men 
 is capable of inventing in order to procure an honeft liveli- 
 hood to the vail multitudes of working poor, that are requir- 
 ed to make a large fociety : And it is folly to imagine, that 
 great and wealthy nations can fubfift, and be at once power- 
 ful and polite without. 
 
 I protefl againft Popery as much as ever Luther and Cal- 
 vin did, or Queen Elizabeth herfelf ; but I believe from my 
 heart, that the Reformation has fcarce been more inftrumen- 
 tal in rendering the kingdoms and ftates that have embraced 
 it, flo unfiling beyond other nations, than the filly and capri- 
 cious invention of hooped and quilted petticoats. But if 
 this fhould be denied me by the enemies of prieflly power, 
 at leaft I am fure that, bar the great men who have fought 
 for and againft that layman's bleffing, it has, from its begin- 
 ning to this day, not employed fo many hands, honeft, in- 
 duftrious labouring hands, as the abominable improvement 
 on female luxury, I named, has done in few years. Religion 
 is one thing, and trade is another. He that gives moft 
 trouble to thoufands of his neighbours, and invents the moft 
 operofe manufactures, is, right or wrong, the greateft friend 
 to the fociety. 
 
 What a buftle is there to be made in feveral parts of the 
 world, before a fine fcarlet or crimfon cloth can be produced ; 
 what multiplicity of trades and artificers mult be employed ! 
 Not only fuch as are obvious, as woolcombers, fpinners, the 
 weaver, the cloth worker, the fcourer, the dyer, the fetter, 
 the drawer, and the packer ; but others that are more re- 
 mote, and might feem foreign to it ; as the mill-wright, the 
 pewterer, and the chemift, which yet are all neceffary, as 
 well as a great number of other handicrafts, to have the 
 tools, utenfils, and other implements belonging fo the trades 
 already named : But all thefe things are done at home, and 
 may be performed without extraordinary fatigue or danger; 
 the moft frightful profpedl is left behind, when w r e reflect, on 
 the toil and hazard that are to be undergone abroad, the vaft 
 feas we are to go over, the different climates we are to en- 
 dure, and the feveral nations we muft be obliged to for their 
 affiftance. Spain alone, it is true, might furnifh us with 
 wool to make the fineft cloth ; but what fkill and pains. 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 229 
 
 what experience and ingenuity, are required to dye it of 
 thofe beautiful colours I How widely are the drugs, and 
 other ingredients, difperfed through the univerfe that are to 
 meet in one kettle ! Allum, indeed, we have of our own; 
 argol we might have from the Rhine, and vitriol from Hun- 
 gary ; all this is in Europe ; but then for faltpetre in quan- 
 tity, we are forced to go as far as the Eafl Indies. Coche- 
 neal, unknown to the ancients, is not much nearer to us, 
 though in a quite different part of the earth : we buy it, it 
 is true, from the Spaniards ; but not being their product, 
 they are forced to fetch it for us from the remoter! corner of 
 the new world in the Eafl Indies. While fo many failors 
 are broiling in the fun, and f weltered with heat in the eafl 
 and weft of us, another fet of them are freezing in the north, 
 to fetch potafhes from Ruffia. 
 
 When we are thoroughly acquainted with all the variety 
 of toil and labour, the hardihips and calamities that muft be 
 undergone to compafs the end I fpeak of, and we confider 
 the vaft rifks and perils that are run in thofe voyages, and 
 that few of them are ever made but at the expence, not only 
 of the health and welfare, but even the lives of many : "When 
 we are acquainted with, I fay, and duly confider the things 
 I named, it is fcarce poflible to conceive a tyrant fo inhu- 
 man, and void of fhame, that, beholding things in the fame 
 view, he fhould exact fuch terrible fervices from his inno- 
 cent flaves ; and, at the fame time, dare to own, that he did 
 it for no other reafon, than the fatisfaction a man receives 
 from having a garment made of fcarlet or crimfon cloth. 
 But to what height of luxury muft a nation be arrived, where 
 not only the king's officers, but likewife the guards, even the 
 private foldiers, fnould have fuch impudent deflres ! 
 
 But if we turn the profpect, and look on all 'thofe labours 
 as fo many voluntary actions, belonging to different callings 
 and occupations, that men are brought up to for a livelihood, 
 and in which every one works for himfelf, how much foever 
 he may feem to labour for others : If we confider, that even 
 the failors who undergo the greateft hardfiiips, as focn as one 
 voyage is ended, even after fhipwreck, are looking out, and 
 foliciting for employment in another : If we confider, I fay, 
 and look on theie things in another view, we mail find, that 
 the labour of the poor is fo far from being a burden and an 
 impofition upon them, that to have employment is a bleiling, 
 which, in their addreiles to Heaven, they pray for, and to 
 
 Q.3 
 
23O A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 to procure it for the generality of them, is the greatefl care 
 of every legiilature. 
 
 As children, and even infants, are the apes of others, fo 
 all youth have an ardent deiire of being men and women, 
 and become often ridiculous by their impatient endeavours 
 to appear what every body fees they are not ; all large focie- 
 ties are not a little indebted to this folly for the perpetuity, 
 or at lealt long continuance, of trades once eftablilhed. What 
 pains will young people take, and what violence will they 
 not commit upon themfelves, to attain to infignificant, and 
 often blameable qualifications, which, for want of judgment 
 and experience, they admire in others, that are fuperior to 
 them in age ! This fondnefs of imitation makes them accuf- 
 tom themfelves, by degrees, to the ufe of things that were 
 irkfome, if not intolerable to them at firft, till they know 
 not how to leave them, and are often very lorry for hav- 
 ing inconsiderately increafed the necelfaries of life without 
 any neceffity. What eftates have been got by tea and cof- 
 fee ! What a vaft traffic is drove, what a variety of labour is 
 performed in the world, to the maintenance of thoufands of 
 families that altogether depend on two filly, if not odious 
 cufloms ; the taking of muff, and fmoking of tobacco ; both 
 which, it is certain, do infinitely more hurt than good to thofe 
 that are addicted to them ! 1 fliall go further, and demon- 
 ilrate the ufefulnefs of private lofTes and misfortunes to the 
 public, and tfje folly of our wiihes, when we pretend to be 
 moft wife and ferious. The fire of London was a great ca- 
 lamity; but if the carpenters, bricklayers, imiths, and all, not 
 only that are employed in building, but likewife thofe that 
 made and dealt in the fame manufactures, and other mer- 
 chandifes that were burnt, and other trades again that got 
 by them when they were in full employ, were to vote againfl 
 thofe who loft by the fire, the rejoicings would equal, if not 
 exceed the complaints. In recruiting ^what is loll and def- 
 troyed by fire, ftofms, fea-fights, lieges, battles, a coniider- 
 able part of trade confiils ; the truth of which, anjl whatever ^ 
 I have faid of the nature of fociety, will plainly appear from 
 what follows. 
 
 It would be a difficult tafK to enumerate all the advan- 
 tages and different benefits, that accrue to a nation, on ac- 
 count of fhipping and navigation ; but if we only take into 
 coniideration the fhips themfelves, and every vefiel great and 
 mi all that is made ufe of for water-carriage, from the leafl 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 23 1 
 
 wherry to a firft rate man of war ; the timber and hands 
 that are employed in the building of them ; and consider 
 the pitch, tar, rofin, greafe ; the mails, yards, fails and rigg- 
 ings; the variety of fmiths work; the cables, oars, and every 
 thing elfe belonging to them ; we fhall find, that to furnifh 
 only fuch a nation as ours with all the neceffaries, make up 
 a considerable part of the traffic of Europe, without fpeaking 
 of the flores and ammunition of all forts, that are confumed 
 in them, or the mariners, waterman and others, with their 
 families, that are maintained by them. 
 
 But fhould we, on the other hand, take a view of the ma- 
 nifold mifchiefs and variety of evils, moral as well as natu- 
 ral, that befal nations on the fcore of feafaring, and their 
 commerce with strangers, the profpect would be very fright- 
 ful ; and could we fuppofe a large populous iiland, that 
 fhould be wholly unacquainted with fhips and fea affairs, 
 but other wife a wife and well-governed people ; and that 
 fome angel, or their genius, fhould lay before them a fcheme 
 or draught, where they might fee on the one fide, all the 
 riches and real advantages that would be acquired by navi- 
 gation in a thoufand years; and on the other, the wealth and 
 lives that would be loft, and all the other calamities, that 
 would be unavoidably fuftained on account of it during the 
 fame time, I am confident, they would look upon fhips with 
 horror and deteftation, and that their prudent rulers would 
 feverely forbid the making and inventing all buildings or 
 machines to go to fea with, of what fhape or denomination 
 foever, and prohibit all fuch abominable contrivances on 
 great penalties, if not the pain of death. 
 
 But to let alone the neceffary confequence of foreign trade, 
 the corruption of manners, as well as plagues, poxes, and 
 other difeafes, that are brought to us by iliipping, fhould we 
 only caft our eyes on what is either to be imputed to the 
 wind and weather, the treachery of the feas, the ice of the 
 north, the vermin of the fouth, the darknefs of nights, and 
 unwholefomenefs of climates, or elfe occasioned by the want 
 of good provisions, and the faults of manners, and unfkilful- 
 nels of fome, and the neglect and drunkenness of others ; 
 and fhould we confider the loises of men and treafure fwal- 
 lowed up in the deep, the tears and necessities of widows and 
 orphans made by the fea, the ruin of merchants and the con- 
 sequences, the continual anxieties that parents and wives are 
 in for the fafety of their children and hufbands, and not for- 
 
 Q.4 
 
232 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 get the many pangs and heart-aches that are felt throughout 
 a trading nation, by owners and infurers, at every blaft of 
 wind ; lhould we call our eyes, I fay, on thefe things, con- 
 lider with due attention and give them the weight they de- 
 ferve, would it not be amazing, how a nation of thinking 
 people mould talk of their ihips and navigation as a pecu- 
 liar bleffing to them, and placing an uncommon felicity in 
 having an infinity of veffels dilperfed through the wide 
 world, and always fome going to and others coming from 
 every part of the univerfe ? 
 
 But let us once, in our consideration on thefe things, con- 
 fine ourfelves to what the mips fuffer only, the veffels them- 
 felves, with their rigging and appurtenances, without think- 
 ing on the freight they carry, or the hands that work them, 
 and we fhall find that the damage fuftained that way only, 
 is very conhderable, and rauft one year with another amount 
 to vaft fums ; the (hips that are foundered at fea, fplit againft 
 rocks and fwallowed up by fands, fome by the fiercenefs of 
 tempefts altogether, others by that and the want of pilots, 
 experience, and knowledge of the coails : the mails that are 
 blown down, or forced to be cut and thrown overboard, the 
 yards, fails, and cordage of different fizes that are deflroyed 
 by ftorms, and the anchors that are loft : add to thefe the 
 neceffary repairs of leaks fprung, and other hurts received 
 from the rage of winds, and the violence of the waves : many 
 Ihips are fet on fire by careleffnefs, and the effects of ftrong li- 
 quors, which none are more addicted to than failors : fome- 
 times unhealthy climates, at others the badnefs of provifion 
 breed fatal diftempers, that fweep away the greater! part of 
 the crew, and not a few mips are loft for want of hands. 
 
 Thefe are all calamities infeparable from navigation, and 
 feem to be great impediments that clog the wheels of foreign 
 commerce. How happy would a merchant think himfelf, if 
 his fhips fhould always have fine weather, and the wind he 
 wiined for, and every mariner he employed, from the higheft 
 to the loweft, be a knowing experienced failor, and a careful, 
 fober, good man ! Was fuch a felicity to be had for prayers, 
 what owner of fhips is there, or dealer in Europe, nay, the 
 whole world, who would not be all day long teazmg Heaven 
 to obtain i itch a blefling for himfelf, without regard to what 
 detriment it would do to others ? Such a petition would cer- 
 tainly be a very unconfcionable one ; yet where is the man 
 who imagines not that he has a right to make it? And there- 
 
NATURE OF SOCIETY. 233 
 
 fore, as every one pretends to an equal claim to thofe favours, 
 let us, without reflecting on the impoilibility of its being 
 true, fuppofe all their prayers effectual and their wifhes an- 
 fwered, and afterwards examine into the remit of fuch a hap- 
 pinefs. 
 
 Ships would laffc as long as timber houfes to the full, be- 
 caufe they are as ftrongly built, and the latter are liable to 
 fuffer by high winds and other florins, which the firft, by our 
 fuppolition, are not to be : fo that, before there would be any 
 real occafion for new fhips, the mailer builders now in being, 
 and every body under them, that is fet to work about them, 
 would all die a natural death, if they were not ftarved or 
 come to fome untimely end : for, in the firft place, all fhips 
 having profperous gales, and never waiting for the wind, 
 they would make very quick voyages both out and home : 
 fecondly, no merchandifes would be damaged by the fea, or 
 by ftrefs of weather thrown overboard, but the entire lading 
 would always come fafe afhore ; and hence it would follow, 
 that three parts in four of the merchantmen already made, 
 would be fuperfluous for the prefent, and the flock of fhips 
 that are now in the world, ferve a vail many years. Mails 
 and yards would laft as long as the vefTels themfelves, and we 
 fhould not need to trouble Norway on that fcore a great 
 while yet. The fails and rigging, indeed, of the few fhips 
 made ufe of would wear out, but not a quarter part fo fail as 
 now they do, for they often fuffer more in one hour's ftorm, 
 than in ten days fair weather. 
 
 Anchors and cables there would be feldom any occafion 
 for, and one of each would laft a fhip time out of mind : this 
 article alone, would yield many a tedious holiday to the an- 
 chor- fmiths and the rope-yards. This general want of con- 
 fumption would have fuch an influence on the timber- 
 merchants, and ail that import iron, fail-cloth, hemp, pitch, 
 tar, &c. that four parts in live of what, in the beginning of 
 this reflection on fea-affairs, I faid, made a confiderable 
 branch of the traffic of Europe, would be entirely loft. 
 
 I have only touched hitherto on the confequences of this 
 bleffing in relation to fhipping, but it would be detrimental 
 to all other branches of trade belides, and deftruclive to the 
 ? poor of every country, that exports any thing of their own 
 growth or manufacture. The goods and merchandifes that 
 every year go to the deep, that are fpoiled at fea by fait 
 water, by heat, by vermine, deftroyed by fire, pr loft to the 
 
^34 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 merchant by other accidents, all owing to ftorms or tedious, 
 yoyages, or elfe the neglect or rapacity of failors ; fuch goods, 
 I fay, and merchandifes are a conliderable part of what every 
 year is fent abroad throughout the world, and muft have em- 
 ployed great multitudes of poor, before they could come on 
 board. A hundred bales of cloth that are burnt or funk in 
 the Mediterranean, are as beneficial to the poor in England, 
 as if they had fafely arrived at Smyrna or Aleppo, and every 
 yard of them had been retailed on the grand Signior's do- 
 minions. 
 
 The merchant may break, and by him the clothier, the 
 dyer, the packer, and other tradefmen, the middling people, 
 may fuffer; but the poor that were fet to work about them 
 can never lofe. Day-labourers commonly receive their 
 earnings once a-week, and all the working people that were 
 employed, either in any of the various branches of the manu- 
 facture itfelf, or the feveral land and water carriages it re- 
 quires to be brought to perfection, from the fheep's back, to 
 the veffel it was entered in, were paid, at leaft much the 
 greater! part of them, before the parcel came on board. 
 Should any of my readers draw conclulions in infinitum, from 
 my afiertions, that goods funk or burnt are as beneficial to 
 the poor, as if they had been well fold and put to their pro- 
 per ufes, I would count him a caviller and not worth an- 
 fwering : fhould it always rain and the fun never fhine, the 
 fruits of the earth would foon be rotten and deftroyed ; and 
 yet it is no paradox to affirm, that, to have grafs or corn, rain 
 is as necelfary as the funfhine. 
 
 In what manner this bleffing of fair winds and fine weather, 
 would affecl: the mariners themfelves, and the breed of 
 failors, may be eafily conjectured from what has been faid 
 already. As there would hardly one fhip in four be made 
 life of, fo the veftels themfelves being always exempt from 
 ftorms, fewer hands would be required to work them, and 
 confequently five ill fix of the feamen we have might be 
 fpared, which in this nation, molt employments of the poor 
 being overftocked, would be but an untoward article. As ! 
 foon as thofe fuperfluous feamen fhould be extinct, it would 
 be impoffible to man fuch large fleets as we could at preient : 
 but 1 do not look upon this as a detriment, or the leaft in- 
 conveniency : for the reduction of mariners, as to numbers 
 being general throughout the world, all the confequence 
 would be, that in cafe of war, the maritime powers would be 
 
 5 
 
.NATURE OF SOCIETY. $35 
 
 obliged to fight with fewer mips, which would be an happi- 
 nefs intlead of an evil: and would you carry this felicity to 
 the higheft pitch of perfection, it is but to add one defirable 
 bieffing more, and no nation fhall ever fight at all : the blefT- 
 ing I hint at is, what all good Chriitians are bound to pray 
 for, viz. that all princes and dates would be true to their 
 oaths and promifes, and juil to one another, as well as their 
 own fubjecls; that they might have a greater regard for the 
 dictates of confcience and religion, than thofe of Hate poli- 
 tics and worldly wifdom, and prefer the fpiritual welfare of 
 others to their own carnal delires, and the honefty, the fafe- 
 ty, the peace and tranquillity of the nations they govern, to 
 their own love of glory, fpirit of revenge, avarice, and ambi- 
 tion. 
 
 The laft paragraph will to many feem a digreffion, that 
 makes little for my purpofe ; but what I mean by it, is to 
 demonilrate that goodnefs, integrity, and a peaceful difpofi- 
 tion in rulers and governors of nations, are not the proper 
 qualifications to aggrandize them, and increafe their num- 
 bers; any more than the uninterrupted feries of fuccefs that 
 every private perfon would be bleff with, if he could, and 
 which 1 have mown would be injurious and deftructive to a 
 large fociety, that mould place a felicity in worldly great- 
 nefs, and being envied by their neighbours, and value them- 
 felves upon their honour and their itrength. 
 
 No man needs to guard himfelf againfl bleffings, but ca- 
 lamities require hands to avert them. The amiable quali- 
 ties of man put none of the fpecies upon dining : his honeity, 
 his love of company, his goodnefs, content and frugality, are 
 fo many comforts to an indolent fociety, and the more real 
 and unaffected they are, the more they keep every thing at 
 reft and peace, and the more they will every where prevent 
 trouble and motion itfelf. The fame almoft may be faid of 
 the gifts and munificence of Heaven, and all the bounties 
 and benefits of nature : this is certain, that the more exten- 
 five they are, and the greater plenty we have of them, the 
 more we fave our labour. But the neceffities, the vices, and 
 imperfect ions of man, together with the various inclemencies 
 ' of the air and other elements, contain in them the feeds of 
 all arts, induftry and labour: it is the extremities of heat and 
 cold, the inconftancy and badnefs of feafons, the violence 
 and uncertainty of winds, the vaft power and treachery of 
 water, the rage and untradablenefs of fire, and the flubborn- 
 
236 A SEARCH INTO THE 
 
 nefs and fterility of the earth, that rack our invention, how 
 we fliall either avoid the raifchiefs they may produce, orcor- 
 reel: the malignity of them, and turn their feveral forces to 
 our own advantage a thouiand different ways ; while we are 
 employed in fuppiying the infinite variety of our wants, 
 which will ever be multiplied as our knowledge is enlarged, 
 and our defires increafe. Hunger, thirft, and nakednefs, are 
 the firlT. tyrants that force us to ftir : afterwards, our pride, 
 floth, fenfuality, and ncklenefs, are the great patrons that 
 promote all arts and fciences, trades, handicrafts and callings; 
 while the great talk- mailers, neceffity, avarice, envy, and 
 ambition, each in the clafs that belongs to him, keep the 
 members of the fociety to their labour, and make them all 
 fubmit, moft of them cheerfully, to the drudgery of their Na- 
 tion ; kings and princes not excepted. 
 
 The greater the variety of trades and manufactures the 
 more operofe they are, and the more they are divided in many 
 branches, the greater numbers may be contained in a fociety 
 without being in one another's way, and the more eafily 
 they may be rendered a rich, potent, and flouriihing people. 
 Few virtues employ any hands, and therefore they may ren- 
 der a fmall nation good, but they can never make a great 
 one. To be urong and laborious, patient in difficulties, and 
 affiduous in all bufinefs, are commendable qualities ; but as 
 they do their own work, fo they are their own reward, and 
 neither art nor induflry have ever paid their compliments to 
 them ; whereas the excellency of human thought and con- 
 trivance, has been, and is yet no where more confpicuous 
 than in the variety of tools and inflruments of workmen and 
 artificers, and the multiplicity of engines, that were all in- 
 vented either to aflill the weaknefs of man, to correct his 
 many imperfections, to gratify his lazinefs, or obviate his im- 
 patience. 
 
 It is in morality as it is in nature, there is nothing fo per- 
 fectly good in creatures, that it cannot be hurtful to any one 
 of the fociety, nor any thing fo entirely evil, but it may 
 prove beneficial to fome part or other of the creation : fo 
 that things are only good and evil in reference to fo fome- 
 thing elfe, and according to the light and polition they are 
 placed in. What pleafes us is good in that regard, and by 
 this rule every man wifhes well for himfelf to the belt of his 
 capacity, with little refpect to his neighbour. There never 
 was any rain yet, though in a very dry feafon when public 
 
NATURE 0? SOCIETY. 237 
 
 prayers had been made for it, but fomebody or other who 
 wanted to go abroad, wifhed it might be fair weather only 
 for that day. When the corn frauds thick in the fpring ? 
 and the generality of the country rejoice at the pleafing ob- 
 ject, the rich farmer who kept his lail year's crop for a bet- 
 ter market, pines at the fight, and inwardly grieves at the 
 profpect. of a plentiful harveft. Nay, we ikall often hear 
 your idle people openly wifh for the poiTeffions of others, 
 and not to be injurious forfooth add this wife provifo, that it 
 mould be without detriment to the owners : but I am afraid 
 they often do it without any fuch reftriction in their hearts. 
 
 It is a happinefs that the prayers as well as wifhes of moil 
 people, are infigniricant and good for nothing; or elie the 
 only thing that could keep mankind fit for fociety, and the 
 world from falling into confuiion, would be the impoiubility 
 that all the petitions made to Heaven mould be granted. A 
 dutiful pretty young gentleman newly come from his tra- 
 vels, lies at the Briel waiting with impatience for an eafterly 
 w T ind, to w 7 aft him over to England, where a dying father, 
 who wants to embrace and give him his blenmg before he 
 yields his breath, lies hoaning after him, melted with grief 
 and tendernefs : in the mean while a Britifh minilter, who is 
 to take care of the Proteftant intereft in Germany, is riding 
 poll to Harwich, and in violent haite to be at Ratiibone be- 
 fore the diet breaks up. At the fame time a rich fleet lies 
 ready for the Mediterranean, and a fine fquadron is bound 
 for the Baltic. All thefe -things may probably happen at 
 once, at leaft there is no difficulty in fuppofmg they mould. 
 If thefe people are not atheifts, or very great reprobates, they 
 will all have fume good thoughts before they go to ileep, and 
 confequently about bed-time, they mud all differently pray 
 for a fair wind and a prosperous voyage. I do not fay but it 
 is their duty, and it is poilible they may be all heard, hut I 
 am fure they cannot be all ferved at the fame time. 
 
 After this, I hatter myfelf to have demonstrated that, neither 
 the friendly qualities and kind affections that are natural to 
 man, nor the real virtues he is capable of acqiring by reafon 
 and felf-denial, are the foundation of fociety ; but that what 
 we call evil in this world, moral as well as natural, is the 
 grand principle that makes us fociable creatures, the folid 
 bails, the life and fupport of all trades and employments 
 without exception : that there we mutt look for the true 
 
 6 
 
23 S A SEARCH INTO, &C. 
 
 origin of all arts and fciences, and that the moment evil 
 ceafes, the fociety muil be fpoiled, if not totally diffolved. 
 
 I could add a thoufand things to enforce, and further il- 
 luftrate this truth, with abundance of pleafure y but for fear 
 of being troublefome, I mall make an end, though I confefs 
 that I have not been half fo folicitous to gain the approba- 
 tion of others, as I have ftudied to pleafe myfelf in this amufe- 
 ment : yet if ever I hear, that by following this diverlion I 
 have given any to the intelligent reader, it will always add 
 to the fatisfaction I have received in the performance. In 
 the hope my vanity forms of this, I leave him with regret, 
 and conclude with repeating the feeming paradox, the fub- 
 ftance of which is advanced in the title page ; that private 
 vices, by the dexterous management of a fldlful politician, 
 may be turned into public benefits* 
 
VINDICATION 
 
 Book, from the Aspersions contained in a Prefentment of 
 the Grand Jury of Middlefex, 
 
 And an Abufive Letter to Lord C 
 
 1 hat the reader may be fully inftructed in the merits of 
 the caufe between my adverfaries and myfelf, it is requifite 
 that, before he fees my defence, he ihould know the whole 
 charge, and have before him all the accufations againft me 
 at large. 
 
 the Prefentment of the Grand Jury is worded thus : 
 
 W e the Grand Jury for the county of Middlefex, have, 
 with the greater! forrow and concern, obferved the many 
 books and pamphlets that are aimoft every week publiihed 
 againft the facred articles of our holy religion, and all difci- 
 pline and order in the church, and the manner in which this 
 is carried on, feems to us to have a direct, tendency to pro- 
 pagate infidelity, and confequently corruption of all morals. 
 
 We are juftly feniible of the goodnefs of the Almighty, 
 that has preferved us from the plague, which has vifited our 
 neighbouring nation, and for which great mercy, his Ma- 
 jefty was graciouily pleafed to command, by his proclama- 
 tion, that thanks Ihould be returned to Heaven ; but how 
 provoking mull it be to the Almighty, that his mercies and 
 deliverances extended to this nation, and our thankfgiving 
 that was publicly commanded for it, Ihould be attended with 
 fuch flagrant impieties. 
 
 We know of nothing that can be of greater fervice to his 
 Majefty, and the Proteftant fucceflion (which is happily efta- 
 blifhed among us for the defence of the Chriitian Religion), 
 than the fuppreffion of blaiphemy and profanenefs, which 
 has a direct tendency to fubvert the very foundation on which 
 his Majefty's government is fixed, 
 
24O A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 
 
 So reftlefs have thefe zealots for infidelity been in their 
 diabolical attempts againft religion, that they have, 
 
 Firjl, Openly blafphemed and denied the doctrine of the 
 ever BlefTed Trinity, endeavouring, by fpecies pretences, to 
 revive the Arian herefy, which was never introduced into 
 any nation, but the vengeance of Heaven purfued it. 
 
 Secondly, They affirm an abfolute fate, and deny the Pro- 
 vidence and government of the Almighty in the world. 
 
 Thirdly, They have endeavoured to fubvert all order and 
 difcipline of the church, and by vile and unjuft reflections 
 on the clergy, they ftrive to bring contempt on all religion : 
 that by the libertinifm of their opinions they may encourage 
 and draw others into the immoralities of their practice. 
 
 Fourthly, That a general libertinifm may the more effec- 
 tually be eitablifhed, the univerfities are decried, and all in- 
 ftructions of youth in the principles of the Chriftian religion 
 are exploded with the greateil malice and falfity. 
 
 Fifthly, The more effectually to carry on thefe works of 
 darknefs, if udied artifices, and invented colours, have been 
 made ufe of to run down religion and virtue as prejudicial to 
 ibcietv, and detrimental to the ftate ; and to recommend 
 luxury, avarice, pride, and all kind of vices, as being ne- 
 ceffary to pubiic welfare, and not tending to the deftruc- 
 tion of the constitution : nay, the very flews themlelves have 
 had flrained apologies and forced encomiums made in their 
 favour, and produced in print, with deiign, we conceive, 
 to debauch the nation. 
 
 Thefe principles having a direct tendency to the fubver- 
 lion of all religion and civil government, our duty to the 
 Almighty, our love to our country, and regard to our oaths, 
 oblige us to prefent 
 
 as the 
 publifher of a book, intituled the Fable of the Bees ; or Pri- 
 vate Vices Public Benefits. 2d. Edit. 1723. 
 
 And alio 
 
 as the publifher 
 of a weekly paper, called the Britifh Journal, Numb. 26, 
 35, 36, and 39. 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. £4* 
 
 Tbe Letter I complain of is this : 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 It is welcome news to all the king's loyal fubjects and true 
 friends to the eitablifhed government and fucceffion in the 
 illuitnous houfe of Hanover, that your Lordfhip is laid to be 
 contriving fome effectual means of fecuring us from the dan- 
 gers, wherewith his Majelty's happy government feems to be 
 threatened by Catiline, under the name of Cato ; by the 
 writer of a book, intituled, The Fable of the Bees, &-c. 
 and by others of their fraternity, who are undoubtedly ufe- 
 ful friends to the Pretender, and diligent, for his fake, in 
 labouring to fubvert and ruin our conitkution, under a fpe- 
 cious pretence of defending it. Your Lord (hip's wife refo- 
 lution, totally to fupprefs fuch impious writings, and the 
 direction already given for having them prefented, immedi- 
 ately, by fome of the grand juries, will effectually convince 
 the nation, that no attempts againft Chriflianity will be 
 furfered or endured here. And this conviction will at once 
 rid mens minds of the uneafinefs which this flagitious race of 
 writers has endeavoured to raife in them ; will therefore be 
 a firm bulwaik to the Protectant religion ; will effectually de- 
 feat the projects and hopes of the Pretender ; and belt fecure 
 us againft any change in the miniftry. And no faithful 
 Briton could be unconcerned, if the people ihould imagine 
 any the leaft neglect in any fingle perfon bearing a part in 
 the miniltry, or begin to grow jealous, that any thing could 
 be done, which is not done, in defending their religion from 
 every the leaft appearance of danger approaching towards it. 
 And, my Lord, this jealoufy might have been apt to rife, if 
 no meafures had been taken to diicourage and crufh the open 
 advocates of irreligion. It is no eafy matter to get jealoufy 
 out of one's brains, when it is once got into them, jealoufy, 
 my Lord 1 it is as furious a fiend as any of them all. 1 have 
 feen a little thin weak woman fo invigorated by a fit of jea- 
 loufy, that five grenadiers could not hold her. My Lord, go 
 on with your juft methods of keeping the people clear of 
 tins curled jealoufy : for amongit the various kinds and oc- 
 cafions of it, that which concerns their religion, is the mohV 
 violent, flagrant, frantic fort of -all ; and accordingly has, in 
 former reigns, produced thofe various mifchiefs, which your 
 {*ordihip has faithfully determined to prevent, dutiiullv re- 
 
 R 
 
$42 A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK!, 
 
 garding the royal authority, and conforming to the example 
 of his Majefty, who has gracioully given directions (which 
 are well known to your Lordfhip) for the preferring of unity 
 in the church ; and the purity of the Christian faith. It is 
 in vain to think that the people of England will ever give 
 up their religion, or be very fond of any miniftry that will 
 not fupport it, as the wifdom of this miniftry has done, a- 
 gainft fuch audacious attacks as are made upon it by the 
 fcriblers ; for fcribler, your Lordfhip knows, is the juft ap- 
 pellation of every author, who, under whatever plaufible 
 appearance of good fenfe, attempts to undermine the re- 
 ligion, and therefore the content and quiet, the peace and 
 happinefs of his fellow-fubjecls, by fubtle and artful, and 
 fallacious arguments and insinuations. May Heaven avert 
 thofe infufferable miferies, which the Church of Rome would 
 bring upon us ! tyranny is the bane of human fociety, and 
 there is no tyranny heavier than that of the triple crown. 
 And, therefore, this free and happy people has justly con- 
 ceived an utter abhorrence and dread of Popery, and of 
 every thing that looks like encouragement or tendency to it ; 
 but they do alfo abhor and dread the violence offered to 
 Christianity itfelf, by our Britifh Catilines, w T ho fhelter their 
 treacherous defigns against it, under the falfe colours of re- 
 gard and good will to our bleifed Proteftant religion, while 
 they demonstrate, too plainly demonstrate, that the title of 
 Proteflants does not belong to them, unlets it can belong to 
 thofe who are in effect proteftors againft all religion. 
 
 And really the people cannot be much blamed for being 
 a little unwilling to part with their religion : for they tell ye 
 that there is a God; and that God governs the world ; and 
 that he is wont to blefs or blaft a kingdom, in proportion to 
 the degrees of religion or irreligion prevailing in it. Your 
 Lordfhip has a fine collection of books ; and, which is a finer 
 thing ftill, you do certainly understand them, and can turn 
 to an account of any important affair in a trice. I would 
 therefore fain know, whether your Lordfhip can (how, from 
 any writer, let him be as profane as the fcribblers would have 
 him, that any one empire, kingdom, country, or province, 
 great or fmall, did not dwindle and link, and was confound- 
 ed, when it once failed of providing ftudiouily for the fup- 
 port of religion. 
 
 The fcribblers talk much of the Roman government, and 
 liberty, and the fpirit of the old Romans. But it is unde- 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 243 
 
 suable, that their mod plaufible talk of thefe things is all 
 pretence, and grimace, and an artifice to ferve the purpofes 
 of irreligion ; and by confquence to render the people un- 
 eafy, and ruin the kingdom. For if they did in reality 
 efteem, and would faithfully recommend to their country- 
 men, the fentiments and principles, the main purpofes and 
 practices of the wife and profperous Romans, they would, 
 in the firft place, put us in mind, that old Rome was as re- 
 markable for obferving and promoting natural religion, as 
 new Rome has been for corrupting that which is revealed. 
 And as the old Romans did fignally recommend themfelves 
 to the favour of heaven, by their faithful care of reli- 
 gion ; fo were they abundantly convinced, and did accord- 
 ingly acknowledge, with univerfal confent, that their 
 care of religion was the great means * of God's preferring 
 the empire, and cr owning it with conquer! and fu<:cefs, prof- 
 perity and glory. Hence it was, that when their orators 
 were bent upon exerting their utmoft in moving and per- 
 fuading the people, upon any occalion, they ever put them 
 in mind of their religion, if that could be any way affected 
 Try the point in debate ; not doubting that the people would 
 determine in their favour, if they could but demonftrate, 
 that the fafety of religion depended upon the fuccefs of their 
 caufe. And, indeed, neither the Romans, nor any other 
 nation upon earth, did ever fuffer their eftablifhed religion 
 to be openly ridiculed, exploded, or oppofed : and I am fure, 
 your Lordfhip would not, for all the world, that this thing 
 would be done with impunity amongtt us, which was never 
 endured in the world before. Did ever any man, lince the 
 bleffed revelation of the gofpel, run riot upon Chriftianity, 
 as fome men, nay, and fome few women too, have lately 
 done ? mult the devil grow rampant at this rate, and not to 
 be called coram nobis / Why mould not he content himielf 
 to carry off people in the common way, the way of curfing 
 and fwearing, Sabbath breaking and cheating, bribery, and 
 hypocrify, drunkennefs and whoring, and iuchkind of things 
 as he ufed to do ? never let him domineer in mens mouths 
 and writings, as he does now, with loud, tremendous infide- 
 lity, blafphemy and prophanenefs, enough to frighten the 
 King's fubjects out of their wits. We are now come to a 
 
 * Quis eft tarn vecors qui non intelligat, numine hoc tantum imperiura 
 efTe natum, actum, et reteotum ? Cic. Orai. de HarvJb. Rejb+ 
 
 R ? 
 
£44 A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 
 
 fhort queftion : God or the devil ? that is the word ; and 
 time will fhow, who and who goes together. Thus much 
 may be faid at prefent, that thofe have abundantly fhown 
 their fpirit of oppofition to facred things, who have not on^ 
 ly inveighed againfl the national profeffion and exercife of 
 religion ; and endeavoured, with bitternefs and dexterity, 
 to render it odious and contemptible, but are folicitous to 
 hinder multitudes of the natives of this ifland from having 
 the very feeds of religion fown among them with advantage. 
 
 Arguments are urged, with the utmoft vehemence, againfl 
 the education of poor children in the charity fchools, though 
 there hath not one juft reafon been offered againlt the pro- 
 vifion made for that education. The things that have been 
 objected againit it are not, in fact, true ; and nothing ought 
 to be regarded, by ferious and wife men, as a weighty or 
 juit argument, if it is not a true one. How hath Catiline 
 the confidence left to look any man in the face, after he 
 hath fpent more confidence than molt mens whole ftock a- 
 mounts to, in faying, that this pretended charity has, in 
 effect, deftroyed all other charities, which were before given 
 to the aged, lick, and impotent. 
 
 It feems pretty clear, that if thofe, who do not contribute 
 to any charity fchool, are become more uncharitable to any 
 other object than formerly they were, their want of charity 
 to the one, is not owing to their contribution to the other. 
 And as to thofe who do contribute to thefe fchools; they 
 are fo far from being more fparing in their relief of other ob- 
 jects, than they were before, that the poor widows, the aged 
 and the impotent do plainly receive more relief from them, 
 in proportion to their numbers and abilities, than from any 
 the fame numbers of men under the fame circumftancies 
 of fortune, who do not concern themfelves with charity 
 fchools, in any refpect, but in condemning and decrying 
 them. I will meet Catiline at the Grecian coffee-houfe any 
 day in the week, and by an enumeration of particular per- 
 fons, in as gieat a number as he pleafeth, demonftrate the 
 truth of what I fay. But 1 do not much depend upon his 
 giving me the meeting, becaufe it is his bufmels, not to en- 
 courage demonftrations of the truth, but to throw difguifes 
 upon it ; otherwife, he never could have allowed himielf, 
 after reprefenting the charity lchools as intended to breed 
 up children to reading and writing, and a fober behaviour, 
 that they may be qualified to be iervants, immediately ta 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 245 
 
 add thefe words, a fort of idle and rioting vermin, by which 
 the kingdom is already almoft devoured, and are become 
 every where a public nuifance, &c. What ? Is it owing to the 
 charity fchools, that fervants are become fo idle, fuch riot- 
 ing vermin, fuch a public nuifance ; that women-fervants 
 turn whores, and the men-fervants robbers, houfe-breakers, 
 arid (harpers ? (as he fays they commonly do). Is this owing 
 to the chanty fchools ? or, if it is not, how comes he to al- 
 low himfelf the liberty of reprefenting thefe fchools as a 
 means of increaiing this load of mifchief, which is indeed too 
 plainly fallen upon the public ? The imbibing principles of 
 virtue hath not, ufually, been thought the chief occation of 
 running into vice. If the early knowledge of truth, and of 
 our obligations to it, were the fureft means of departing 
 from it, nobody would doubt, that the knowledge of truth 
 was inftilled into Catiline very early, and with the utmoft 
 care. It is a good pretty thing in him to fpread a report, 
 and to lay fo much itrefs upon it as he does, that there is 
 more collected at the church doors in a day, to make thefe 
 poor boys and girls appear in caps and livery -coats, than for 
 all the poor in a year. O rare Catiline ! This point you 
 will carry molt fwimmingly ; for you have no witnefTes 
 againit you, nor any living foul to contradict you, except 
 the collectors and overfeers of the poor, and all other princi- 
 pal inhabitants of molt of the parifhes, where any charity 
 fchools are in England. 
 
 The jeit of it is, my Lord, that thefe fcribblers would frill 
 be thought good moral men. But, when men make it their 
 buiinefs to miilead and deceive their neighbours, and that in 
 matters of moment, by diltorting and difguifing the truth, by 
 mifreprefentations and falfe insinuations ; if fuch men are 
 not guilty of ufurpation, while they take upon them the 
 character of good moral men, then it is not immoral, in any 
 man, to be falfe and deceitful, in cafes where the law can- 
 not touch him for being fo, and morality bears no relation 
 to truth and fair dealing. However, I mail not be very will- 
 ing to meet one of thefe moral men upon Hounflow- heath, 
 if I mould happen to ride that way without piitols. For I 
 have a notion, that they who have no conicience in one 
 point, do not much abound with it in another. Your Lord- 
 fhip, who judges accurately of men, as well as books, will 
 ealily imagine, if you had no other knowledge of the charity, 
 fchools, that there m-uft be fomething very excellent in them 
 
 R 3 
 
246 A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 
 
 becaufe fuch kind of men as thefe are fo warm in oppoung 
 them. 
 
 They tell you, that thefe fchools are hindrances to huf- 
 bandiy and to manufacture. As to hufbandry ; the children 
 are not "kept in the fchools longer than till they are of age 
 and ftrength to perform the principal parts of it, or to bear 
 conitant labour in it ; and even while they are under this 
 courfe of education, yourLordfhip may depend upon it, that 
 they mall never be hindered from working in the fields, or 
 being employed in fuch labour as they are capable of, in any 
 parts of the year, when they can get fuch employment for 
 the fupport of their parents and themfelves, In this cafe, the 
 parents, in the feveral counties, are proper judges of their fe- 
 veral lituations and circumftances, and at the fame time, not 
 fo very fond of their childrens getting a little knowledge, ra- 
 ther than a little money, but that they will find other em- 
 ployment for them than going to fchool, whenever they can 
 get a penny by fo doing. And the cafe is the fame as to the 
 manufactures ; the truftees of the charity fchools, and the 
 parents of the children bred in them, would be thankful to 
 thofe gentlemen who make the objection, if they would affift 
 in removing it, by fubfcribing to a fund for joining the em- 
 ployment of manufacture, to the bufinefs of learning to read 
 and write in the charity fchools. This would be a noble 
 work : it is already affected by the fupporters of fome chari- 
 ty fchools, and is aimed at, and earneftly denred by all the 
 reft : but Rome was not built in a day. Till this great 
 thing can be brought about, let the mafters and managers of 
 the manufactures in the feveral places of the kingdom, be fo 
 charitable as to employ the poor children for a certain num- 
 ber of hours in every day, in the refpective manufactures, 
 while the truftees are taking care to fill up their other hours 
 of the day, in the ufual duties of the charity fchools. It is 
 an eafy matter for party-men, for defigning and perverted 
 minds,) to invent colourable, fallacious arguments, and to 
 offer railing, under the appearance of reafoning, againft the 
 belt things in the world. But undoubtedly, no impartial 
 man, who is affected with a ferious fenfe of goodnefs, and a 
 real love of his country, can think this proper and juft view 
 of the charity fchools, liable to any juft weighty objection, 
 or refufe to contribute his endeavours to improve and raife 
 them to that perfection which is propofed in them. In the 
 mean time, let no man be fo weak or fo wicked as to deny. 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 247 
 
 that when poor children cannot meet with employment in 
 any other honeft way, rather than fuffer their tender age to 
 be fpent in idlenefs, or in learning the arts of lying, and 
 fwearing, and ftealing, it is true charity to them, and good 
 fervice done to our country, to employ them in learning the 
 principles of religion and virtue, till their age and ilrength 
 will enable them to become fervants in families, or to be en- 
 gaged in hufbandry, or manufacture, oX anyAind of me- 
 chanic trade or laborious employment ; for to thefe labo- 
 rious employments are the charity children generally, if not 
 always turned, as foon as they become capable of them : 
 and therefore Catiline may be pleafed to retract his objec- 
 tion concerning mop-keepers, or retailers of commodities, 
 wherein he has affirmed, that their employments, which he 
 fays ought to fall to the fhare of children of their own degree, 
 are rrioltly anticipated and engrofled by the managers of the 
 charity fchools. He mull excufe my acquainting your Lord- 
 fhip, that this affirmation is in fact directly falfe, which is an 
 inconvenience very apt to fall upon his affirmations, as it has 
 particularly done upon one of them more, which I would 
 mention. For he is not afhamed roundly to afTert, That the 
 principles of our common people are debauched in our cha- 
 rity fchools, who are taught, as foon as they can fpeak, to 
 blabber out High- church and Ormond, and fo are bred up 
 to be traitors before they know what treafon fignirles. Your 
 Lordfhip, and other perfons of integrity, whofe words are the 
 faithful reprefentatives of their meaning, would now think, 
 if I had not given you a key to Catiline's talk, that he has 
 been fully convinced, that the children in the charity 
 fchoos are bred up to be traitors; 
 
 My Lord, if any one matter -be fuffered by the truftees to 
 continue in any charity fchool, againft whom proof can be 
 brought, that he is difafTecled to the government, or that he 
 does not as faithfully teach the children obedience and loy- 
 alty to the King, as any other duty in the catachifm, then I 
 will gratify Catiline with a licence to pull down the fchools, 
 and hang up the matters, according to his heart's deiire. 
 
 Thefe, and fuch things as thefe, are urged with the like 
 bitternefs, and as little truth, in the book mentioned above, 
 viz. The Fable of the Bees ; or, Private Vices, Public Bene- 
 fits, &c Cataline explodes the fundamental articles of faith, 
 impioufly comparing the doctrine of the blefTed Trinity to 
 fee-fa-f um : this profligate author of the Fable is not only an 
 
 R 4 
 
#48 a vindication of the book, 
 
 auxiliary to Catiline in oppofition to faith, but has taken u^ 
 on him to tear up the very foundations of moral virtue, and 
 eftablifh vice in its room. The beft phyfician in the world 
 did never labour more, to purge the natural body of bad 
 qualities, than this bumble-bee has done to purge the body- 
 pohtic of good ones. He himfelf bears teftimony to the 
 truth of this charge againft him : for when he comes to the 
 conclufion of his book, he makes this obfervation upon him- 
 felf and his performance: u After this, 1 flatter myfelf to 
 " have demonftrated, that neither the friendly qualities and 
 " kind affections that are natural to man, nor the real virtues 
 " he is capable of acquiring by reafon and felf-demai, are 
 " the foundation of fociety ; but that what we call evil in 
 " this world, moral as well as natural, is the grand principle 
 " that makes us fociable creatures, the folid bafis, the life 
 " and fupport of all trades and employments without excep- 
 " tion : that there we muft look for the true origin of all 
 " arts and fciences, and that the moment evil ceafes, the fo- 
 " ciety mult be fpoiled, if not totally dilfolved " 
 
 Now, my Lord, you fee the grand defign, the main drift 
 of Catiline and his confederates ; now the fcene opens, and 
 the fecret fprings appear ; now the fraternity adventure to 
 fpeak out, and furely no band of men ever dared to fpeak 
 at this rate before ; now you fee the true caufe of all their 
 enmity to the poor charity fchools ; it is levelled againit re- 
 ligion : religion, my Lord, which the fchools are initituted to 
 promote, and which this confederacy is refolved to deftroy ; 
 for the fchools are certainly one of the greatett inftruments 
 of religion and virtue, one of the nrmeit bulwarks againft 
 Popery, one of the belt recommendations of this people to 
 the Divine favour, and therefore one of the greater! bleiiings 
 to our country of any thing that has been let on foot lince 
 our happy Reformation and deliverance from the idolatry 
 and tyranny of Rome. If any trivial inconvenience did 
 arife from fo excellent a work, as fome little inconvenience 
 attends all human inftitutions and affairs, the excellency of 
 the work would (till be matter of joy, and find encourage- 
 ment with all the wife and the good, who defpiie fuch inlig- 
 nincant objections againit it, as other men are not afhamed 
 to raife and defend. 
 
 Now 7 your Lordfnip alio fees the true caufe of the fatire, 
 which is continually formed againft the clergy, by Catiline 
 and his confederates. Why ihould Mr. Hall's conviction 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE EOOX. 1*^ 
 
 and execution be any more an objection againft the clergy, 
 than Mr. Layer's againft the gentlemen of the long robe? 
 Why, becaufe the proreffion of the law does not immediate- 
 ly relate to religion : and therefore Catiline will allow, that 
 if any perfons of that profeffion mould be traitors, or other- 
 wife vicious, all the reft may, notwithstanding the iniquity of 
 a brother, be as loyal and virtuous as any other fubjects in. 
 the King's dominions : but becaufe matters of religion are 
 the profeiTed concern, and the employment of the clergy; 
 therefore Catiline's logic makes it out, as clear as the day, 
 that if any of them be dilarlecfed to the government, all the 
 reft are fo too ; or if any of them be chargeable with vice, 
 this conlequence from it is plain, that ail or moil of the reft 
 are as vicious as the devil can make them. ' I mall not 
 trouble your Lordihip with a particular vindication of the 
 clergy, nor is there any reafon that I mould, for they are 
 already fecure of your Lordihip's good affection to them, 
 and they are able to vindicate themfelves wherefover fucfTa 
 vindication is wanted, being as faithful, and virtuous, and 
 learned, a body of men as any in Europe ; and yet they fuf- 
 pend the publication of arguments in a folemn defence of 
 themfelves, becaufe they neither expect nor defire approba- 
 tion and efteem from impious and abandoned men ; and, at 
 the fame time, they cannot doubt that ail perfons, not only 
 of great penetration, but of common ienfe, do now clearly 
 fee, that the arrows (hot againit the clergy are intended to 
 wound and deftroy the divine mftitution of the minifterial 
 offices, and to extirpate the religion which the facred offices 
 Were appointed to preierve and promote. This was always 
 fuppofed and fuipecled by every honeft and impartial men ; 
 but it is now demonftrated by thofe who before had given 
 cccafion to fuch fufpicions, for they have now openly de- 
 clared, that faith, in the principal articles of it, is not only 
 needlefs, but ridiculous, that the welfare of human fociety 
 mult link and peiiih under the encouragement of virtue, and 
 that immorality is the only firm foundation whereon the 
 happinefs of mankind can be built and fubfiit. The publi- 
 cation of fuch tenets as thefe, an open avowed propolal to 
 extirpate the Chrillian faith and all virtue, and to fix moral 
 evil for the bails of the government, is fo Running, fo (hock- 
 lag, fo frightful, fo flagrant an enormity, that if it mould be 
 imputed to us as a national guilt, the Divine vengeance muit 
 inevitably fall upon us. And how far this enormity would 
 
25O A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK, 
 
 become a national guilt, if it fhould pafs difregarded and mi- 
 pimifhed, a cafuift lefs Ikilful and difcerning than your Lord- 
 £hip may eafily guefs. And, no doubt, your Lordfhip's good 
 judgment, in fo plain and important a cafe, has made you, 
 like a wife and faithful patriot, refolve to ufe your utmoft 
 endeavours in your high Itation, to defend religion from the 
 "bold attacks made upon it. 
 
 As foon as I have iee'n a copy of the bill, for the better fe- 
 eurity of his Majefty and his happy government, by the bet- 
 ter fecurity of religion in Great Britain, your Lordfhip's' 
 juftfcheme of politics, your love of your country, and your 
 great fervices done to it, mall again be acknowledged by, 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 lour 7710ft faithful bumble Servant, 
 
 Theophilus Philo-Britannus. 
 
 Thefe violent accufations, and the great clamour every 
 where raifed againft the book, by governors, mailers, and 
 other champions of charity fchools, together with the advice 
 of friends, and the reflection on what I owed to myielf, drew 
 from me the following anfwer. The candid reader, in the 
 perufal of it, will not be offended at the repetition of fome 
 paflages, one of which he may have met with twice already, 
 when he mail coniider that, to make my defence by itfelf to 
 the public, I was obliged to repeat what had been quoted in 
 the Letter, fince the paper would unavoidably fall into the 
 hands of many who had never feen either the Fable of the 
 Bees, or the Defamatory Letter wrote againft it. The An- 
 fwer was publilhed in the London Journal of Auguft 10, 
 3 723, in thefe words : 
 
 VV hereas, in the Evening Poll of Thurfday July 11, a 
 prefentment was inlerted of the Grand Jury of Middlefex, 
 againft the publifher of a book, intituled, The Fable of the 
 Bees ; or, Private Vices, Public Benefits ; and fince that, 
 a paffionate and abufive Letter has been publifhed againft the 
 fame book, and the author of it, in the London Journal of 
 Saturday, July 27 ; I think myielf indifpenfibly obliged to 
 vindicate the above faid book againft the black aiperfions that 
 undefervedly have been caft upon it, being confcious that I 
 have not had the lea ft ill deiign in compoiing. it. The ac~ 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 2$i 
 
 cufations againft it having been made openly in the public 
 papers, it is not equitable the defence of it mould appear in 
 a more private manner. What I have to fay in my behalf, I 
 fhall addrefs to all men of fenfe and fincerity, afking no other 
 favour of them, than their patience and attention. Setting 
 afide what in that Letter relates to others, and every thing 
 that is foreign and immaterial, I mall begin with the paffage 
 that is quoted from the book, viz. " After this, I flatter my- 
 " felf to have demonitrated, that neither the friendly quali- 
 " ties and kind affections that are natural to man, nor the 
 
 * real virtues he is capable of acquiring by reafon and felt- 
 " denial, are the foundation of fociety : but that what we 
 " call evil in this world, moral as well as natural, is the 
 " grand principle that makes us fociable creatures ; the 
 M iolid bails, the life and fupport of all trades and employ- 
 " ments without exception : That there we mull look for 
 " the true origin of all arts and fciences ; and that the mo- 
 " ment evil ceafes, the fociety mufl be fpoiled, if not totally 
 
 * dhTolved." Thefe words, I own, are in the book, and, 
 being both innocent and true, like to remain there in all fu- 
 ture impreffions. But I will like wife own very freely, that, 
 if I had wrote with a delign to be underflood by the meaner! 
 capacities, I would not have chofe the fubject there treated 
 of; or if I had, I would have amplified and explained every 
 period, talked and diftinguilhed magifherially, and never ap- 
 peared without the fefcue in my hand. As for example ; 
 to make the paiTage pointed at intelligible, I would have be- 
 llowed a page or two on the meaning of the word Evil ; af- 
 ter that I would have taught them, that every defecl:, every 
 want, was an evil; that on the multiplicity of thofe wants 
 depended all thofe mutual fervices which the individual 
 members of a fociety pay to each other; and that confe- 
 quently, the greater variety there was of wants, the larger 
 number of individuals might find their private interefl in la- 
 bouring for the good of others, and, united together, com- 
 pofe one body. Is there a trade or handicraft but what 
 fupplies us with fomething we wanted ? This want certain- 
 ly, before it was fupplied, was an evil, winch that trade or 
 handicraft was to remedy, and without which it could never 
 have been thought of. Is there an art or fcience that was 
 not invented to mend fome defecl! Had this latter not ex- 
 isted, there could have been no occafion for the former to 
 move it. I fay, p. 236. " The excellency of human thought 
 
.2$2 A VINDICATION OF THE BOOS. 
 
 " and contivance has been, and is yet nowhere more confpi- 
 " cuous, than in the variety of tools and inftruments of work- 
 ** men and artificers, and the multiplicity of engines, that 
 " were all invented, either to affift the weaknefs of man, to 
 " correct his many imperfections, to gratify his lazinefs, or 
 " obviate his impatience." Several foregoing pages run in 
 the fame {train. But what relation has all this to religion or 
 infidelity, more than it has to navigation or the peace in the 
 north ? 
 
 The many hands that are employed to fupply our natural 
 w T ants, that are really fuch, as hunger, third, and nakednefs, 
 are inconfiderable to the vaft numbers that are all innocent- 
 ly gratifying the depravity of our corrupt nature, I mean the 
 induftrious, who get a livelihood by their honeft labour, to 
 which the vain and voluptuous muft be beholden for all their 
 tools and implements of eafe and luxury. " The fhort-fight- 
 " ed vulgar, in the chain of caufes, feldom can fee farther 
 " than one link ; but thofe who can enlarge their view, and 
 " will give themfelves leifure of gazing on the profpecl of 
 " concatenated events, may, in a hundred places, fee good 
 " fpring up, and pullulate from evil, as naturally as chickens 
 *' do from eggs." 
 
 The words are to be found p. 46. in the Remark made 
 on the feeming paradox ; that in the grumbling hive, 
 
 The worft of all the multitude 
 
 Did fomething for the common good. 
 
 Where, in many inftances, may be amply difcovered, how 
 unfearchable Providence daily orders the comforts of the la- 
 borious, and even the deliverances of the opprefTed, fecretly 
 to come forth, not only from the vices of the luxurious, but 
 likewife the crimes of the flagitious and moft abandoned. 
 
 Men of candour and capacity perceive, at firft fight, that 
 in the paffage cenfured, there is no meaning hid or expreffed , 
 that is not altogether contained in the following words : 
 " Man is a neceilitous creature on innumerable accounts, 
 ** and yet from thofe very neceflities, and nothing elfe, arile 
 " all trades and employments." But it is ridiculous for men 
 to meddle with books above their fphere. 
 
 The Fable of the Bees was def-gned for the entertainment 
 
 of people of knowledge and education, when they have an 
 
 idle hour which they know not how to fpend better : it is a 
 
 book of fevere and exalted morality r that contains a ftric> 
 
 3 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 253 
 
 ted of virtue, an infallible touchftone to diitinguifh the real 
 from the counterfeited, and (hows many actions to be faulty 
 that are palmed upon the world for good ones : it defcnbes* 
 the nature and fymptoms of human paifions, detects their 
 force and difguifes ; and traces felf-love in its darkeft re- 
 cefTes ; I might lately add, beyond any other fyftem of e- 
 thics : the whole is a rhapfody void of order or method, but 
 no part of it has any thing in it that is four or pedantic ; the 
 Style, 1 confefs, is very unequal, fometimes very high and rhe- 
 torical, and fometimes very low, and even very trivial ; fuch 
 as it is, I am fatisfied that it has diverted perfons of great 
 probity and virtue, and imqueftionable good ienfe ; and I 
 am in no fear that it will ever ceafe to do fo while it is read 
 by fuch. Whoever has feen the violent charge againit this 
 book, will pardon me for faying more in commendation of 
 it, than a man, not labouring under the fame neceility, 
 would do of his own work on any other occaiion. 
 
 The encomiums upon flews complained of in the prefer- 
 ment are no where in the book. What might give a handle 
 to this charge, mud be a political diflertation concerning the 
 bed method to guard and preferve women of honour and 
 virtue from the infults of dnTolute men, whole paffions are 
 often ungovernable : As in this there is a dilemma between 
 two evils, which it is impracticable to flmn both, io I have 
 treated it with the utmofl caution, and begin thus : " I am 
 " far from encouraging vice, and mould think it an unfpeak- 
 " able felicity for a itate, if the fin of uncleannefs could be 
 " utterly banifhed from it; but 1 am afraid it is impoffible.'* 
 I gtye my reafons why I think it fo ; and, ipeaking occasion- 
 ally o£ the mufic-houfes at Amfterdam, 1 give a fhort ac- 
 count of them, than which nothing can be more harmlefs ; 
 and I appeal to all impartial judges, whether, what I have 
 faid of them is not ten times more proper to give men (even 
 the voluptuous of any tafte ) a difguit and averfion againft 
 them, than it is to raiie any criminal defire. I am lorry 
 the Grand Jury mould conceive that 1 publiilied this with a 
 defign to debauch the nation, without considering, that, in the 
 fir ft place, there is not a lentence nor a fy liable that can either 
 offend the chaiteit ear, or fully the imagination of the moll 
 vicious ; or, in the iecond, that the matter complained of is 
 mamfeitly addreifed to magistrates and politicians, or, at 
 leait, the more Serious and thinking part of mankind ; where- 
 as a general corruption of manners as to lewdnefs, to be pre- 
 
'254 A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 
 
 duced by reading, can only be apprehended from obfceni- 
 ties eafily purchafed, and every way adapted to the taftes 
 and capacities of the heedlefs multitude and unexperienced 
 youth of both fexes : but that the performance, fo outrage- 
 oufly exclaimed againft, was never calculated for either of 
 thefe claiTes of people, is felf-evident from every circum- 
 fence. The beginning of the profe is altogether philofophi- 
 eaj, and hardly intelligible to any that have not been ufed 
 to matters of fpeculation ; and the running title of it is fo 
 far from being fpecious or inviting, that without having read 
 the book itfelf, nobody knows what to make of it, while, at 
 the fame time, the price is five (hillings. From all which it 
 is plain, that if the book contains any dangerous tenets, I 
 have not been very folicitous to fcatter them among the 
 people. 1 have not faid a word to pleafe or engage them, 
 and the greater!: compliment I have made them has been, 
 Apage vulgus. But as nothing (I fay, p. 138) would more 
 clearly demonftrate the falfity of my notions than that, the 
 generality of the people fhould fall in with them, fo I do 
 not expect the approbation of the multitude. 1 write not 
 to many, nor feek for any well-wifhers, but among the few 
 that can think abftraetly, and have their minds elevated 
 above the vulgar." Of this I have made no ill ufe, and 
 ever preferved iuch a tender regard to the public, that when 
 I have advanced any uncommon fentiments, I have ufed all 
 the precautions imaginable, that they might not be hurtful 
 to weak minds that might caiually dip into the book. When 
 (p. 137.) I owned, " That it was my fentiment that no focie- 
 " ty could be railed into a rich and mighty kingdom, or fo 
 u raifed fubfiit in their wealth and power for any confiderable 
 
 * time, without the vices of man," I had premiied, what was 
 true, " That I had never faid or imagined, that man could not 
 
 * be virtuous as well in a rich and mighty kingdom, as in the 
 fcC moil pitiful commonwealth :" which caution, a man lefs 
 fcrupulous than myfelf might have thought fuperfluous, when 
 he had already explained himfelf on that head in the very 
 fame paragraph which begins thus ; " 1 lay down, as a ririt 
 " principle, that in all lbcieties, great or fmall, it is the du- 
 f ty of every member of it to be good ; that virtue ought 
 P* to be encouraged, vice difcountenanced, the laws obeyed, 
 " and the tranfgrelfors puniihed" There is not a line in the 
 book that contradicts this doctrine, and I defy my enemies 
 to difprove what I have advanced, p. 139, " That if I have 
 
A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 255 
 
 W fhown the way to wordly greatnefs, I have always, without 
 " hefitation, preferred the road that leads to virtue." No 
 man ever took more pains not to be mifconftrued than my- 
 felf: mind p. 138, when I fay, " That focieties cannot be 
 ?' raifed to wealth and power, and the top of earthly glory, 
 M without vices ; I do not think, that by fo faying, 1 bid men 
 " be vicious, any more than I bid them be qua rrelfome or co- 
 " vetous, when I affirm, that the profeffion of the law could 
 " not be mintained in fuch numbers and fplendour, if there was 
 " not abundance of too felfifh and litigious people." A cau- 
 tion of the fame nature I had already given t o wards the end 
 of the Preface, on account of a palpable evil infeparable 
 from the felicity of London. To fearch into the real caufes 
 of things, imports no ill defign, nor has any tendency to do 
 harm. A man may write on poifons, and 'be an excellent 
 phyfician. Page 235, I fay, " No man need s to guard him- 
 " felf againft bleffings, but calamities require hands to avert 
 " them." And lower, " It is the extremities of heat and cold, 
 f* the inconstancy and badnefs of feafons, tlie violence and 
 " uncertainty of winds, the vail power and tre achery of water, 
 " the rage and untraclablenefs of fire, and the ftubbornnefs 
 ?' and fterility of the earth, that rack our invention, how we 
 ^ fhall either avoid the mifchiefs they produce, or correct the 
 " malignity of them, and turn their feveral forces to our own 
 " advantage a thoufand different ways." While a man is 
 inquiring into the occupation of vaft muiti tudes, I cannot 
 fee why he may not fay all this and much m ore, without be- 
 ing accufed of depreciating and fpeaking fli^htly of the gifts 
 and munificence of heaven ; when, at the Lame time, he de~ 
 monftrates, that without rain and funfhine this globe would 
 not be habitable to creatures like ourfelves. It is an out-of- 
 the-way fubjecl, and I would never quarrel with the man 
 who mould tell me that it might as well have- been let alone: 
 yet I always thought it would pleafe men qf any tolerable 
 tafte, and not be eafily loft. 
 
 My vanity I could never conquer, fo well as I could wifh ; 
 and I am too proud to commit crimes, and as to the main fcope, 
 the intent of the book, I mean the view it was wrote with, I 
 proteft that it has been with the utmoft fincerity, what I have 
 declared of it in the Preface, where you will find thefe words : 
 " If you afk me,why I have done all this, cm bono ? And what 
 " good thefe notions will produce? Truly, befides the reader's 
 t* diverfion, I 'believe none at all 5 but if I was afked, what na- 
 
 5 
 
256 A VINDICATION OF THE BOOK. 
 
 ** turally ought to be expected from them? I would anfwef, 
 " That, in the firft place, the people who continually find fault 
 " with others, by reading them would be taught to look at 
 44 home, and examining their own confciences, be made 
 " afhamed of always railing at what they are more or lefs 
 164 guilty of themfelves ; and that, in the next, thofe who are 
 " fo fond of the eafe and comforts of a great and flouriihing 
 ** nation, would learn more patiently to fubmit to thofe in- 
 w conveniences, which no government upon earth can reme- 
 '• dy, when they iliould fee the lmpolfibility* of enjoying any 
 **■ great (hare of the firft, without partaking likewife of the 
 " latter." 
 
 The firft impreffion of the Fable of the Bees, which came 
 out in -1714, was never carped at, or publicly taken notice 
 of; and all the reafon 1 can think on, why this fecond 
 edition mould be fo unmercifully treated, though it has ma- 
 ny precautions which the former wanted, is an EfYay on Cha- 
 rity and Charity Schools, which is added to what was print- 
 ed before. 1 confeis, that it is my fentiment, that all hard 
 and dirty work, ought, in a well-governed nation, to be the 
 lot and portion of the poor, and that to divert their children 
 from ufeful labour till they are fourteen or fifteen years old, is 
 a wrong method to qualify them for it when are they grown 
 up I have given feveral reafons for my opinion in that 
 EfTay, to which 1 refer all impartial men of underitanding, 
 alluring them that they wdl not meet with fuch monftrous 
 impiety in it as reported. What an advocate I have been 
 for libertinifm and immorality, and what an enemy to all 
 inftructions of youth in the Chriftian faith, may be collected 
 from the pains I have taken on education for above {even 
 pages together: and afterwards again, page 193, where 
 Speaking of the inftruclions the children of the poor might 
 receive at church ; from which, i lay, " Or feme other place 
 " of worihip, I would not have the meaner! of a panfti that 
 ** is able to walk to it, be abfent on Sundays, " I have thefe 
 words : " It is the Sabbath, the inoft ufeful day in feven, 
 " that is fet apart for divine fervice and religious exercife, as 
 " well as refting from bodily labour ; and it is a duty mcum- 
 " bent on all magistrates, to take a particular care of that 
 •' day. The poor more especially, and their children, 
 " mould be made to go to church on it, both in the tore and 
 c * the afternoon, beeaufe they have no time on any other. 
 "■ By precept and example, they ought to be encouraged to 
 
A VINDICATION" OF THE 3 2$ J 
 
 " it from their very infancy : the v.: t& of it ought 
 
 M to be counted fcandajous : and if downright corapulfion to 
 <; what I urge i ind perhaps impracl 
 
 " ble. all diversions at leaft rohibited, 
 
 u and the poor hi:: : >m every a aufemen 
 
 " m:: * or draw theru from if." If the arguments I 
 
 have made uie of are Dot convincing, I file 
 refuted, and I will acknowledge it as in any one that 
 
 mall convince me of my e ^uage, by 
 
 fhowing me wherein I have bee:: 
 feems, is the morteft way of confuting an ad 
 men are touched in a fenfible part. ' 
 
 for theie charity fchools, and I undecftand I i e too 
 
 well to imagine, that the fharers of the money 
 them fpoh : 1 with any patience. I i 
 
 the ufage I was to receive, aii 
 cant that is made for fchools, I 
 
 page 165. 4 - This is the general cry. and " : that fpeaks the 
 " leail word againit it, is an uncharitable, hard-hearted, and 
 M inhuman, if not a wicked, profane : wretch." 
 
 For this re :annot be thought, i as a great fur- 
 
 prife to me, when in ti: letter to Lord C. I 
 
 law my fell called " pi luthor; 
 
 " my tenets, an cpzn and avowed pi extirpate the 
 
 " Chriilian faith and all virtue, and what I had done ib : 
 " ning, ib fliocl craiit an enormity, that 
 
 " it cried tor the vengeance civ' This is no a 
 
 than what I have already expected from the enemies to 
 truth and fair dealing, and I mall retort nothing on the 
 angry author of that letter, who endeavou : jit me to 
 
 the public fury. I pity him. and h enough tc 
 
 lieve that he has been impofed upon himfelf, by trufting to 
 z and the hearfay of others : for no man in his wits can 
 
 :ne that he mould have read one quarter part of my 
 book, and write as he does. 
 
 I am lorry if the words Private Vices, Public Benefits, 
 have ever given any offence to a well-meaning man. The 
 
 *ry of them is foon unfolded, when once they are right- 
 ly underftood ; but no man of lincerity will queition the in- 
 nocence of them, that has read the lail paragraph, where I 
 take my leave of the reader, " and conclude with repe:. 
 " the feeming paradox, the fubftance of which is advanced 
 M in the title page • that private - 
 
 S 
 
250 a vindication of the book. 
 
 " nagement of a fkilful politician, may be turned into public 
 " benefits." Thefe are the laft words of the book, print- 
 ed in the fame large character with the reft. But I fet 
 afide all what I have faid in my vindication ; and if, in the 
 whole book called the Fable of the Bees, and preiented by 
 the grand jury of Middlefex to the judges of the King's 
 Bench, there is to be found the leaft title of blafphemy or 
 profanenefs, or any thing tending to immorality or the cor- 
 ruption of manners, I defire it may be publifhed; and if this 
 be done without invective, perfonal reflections, or letting the 
 mob upon me, things I never defign to anfwer, 1 will not 
 only recant, but likewife beg pardon of the offended public 
 in the moil folemn manner : and (if the hangman might be 
 thought too good for the office) burn the book myfelf, at 
 any reafonabie time and place my adverfaries fhall be pleafed 
 to appoint, 
 
 The Author of the Fable of the Bees. 
 
THE 
 
 FABLE OF THE BEES. 
 
 PART IL 
 
 Opinionum enim Cemmenta delit dies ; Nature judicia confirmat. 
 
 Cicero de Nat. Deor. lab. 2. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Considering the manifold clamours, that have been raifed 
 from feveral quarters, againft the Fable of the Bees, even af- 
 ter I had publifhed the vindication of it, many of my readers 
 will wonder to fee me come out with a fecond part, before I 
 have taken any further notice of what has been laid againft 
 the firft. Whatever is publifhed, I take it for granted, is 
 fubmitted to the judgment of all the world that fee it; but 
 it is very unreafonable, that authors ihould not be upon the 
 fame footing with their critics. The treatment I have re- 
 ceived, and the liberties fome gentlemen have taken with 
 me, being well known, the public muft be convinced before 
 now, that, in point of civility, I owe my adveriaries nothing : 
 and if thofe, who have taken upon them to fchool and repri- 
 mand me, had an undoubted right to cenfure what they 
 thought fit, without afking my leave, and to fay of me what 
 they pleated, I ought to have an equal privilege to examine 
 their ceniures, and, without confulung them, to judge in my 
 turn, whether they are worth anfwering or not. The pub- 
 lic muft be the umpire between us. From the Appendix 
 that has been added to the firit part, ever fince the third 
 edition, it is manifeft, that I have been far from endeavour- 
 ing to ftifle, either the arguments or the invectives that were 
 made againft me ; and, not to have left the reader uninform- 
 ed of any thing extant of either fort, I once thought to have 
 taken this opportunity of prefenting him with a lift of the 
 adveriaries that have appeared in print againft me : but as 
 they are in nothing fo confiderable as they are in their num- 
 bers, I was afraid it would have looked like oftentation, un- 
 lefs I would have anfwered them all, which I fhall never at- 
 tempt. The reafon, therefore, of my obliinate filence has 
 been all along, that hitherto I have not been accufed of any 
 thing that is criminal or immoral, for which every middling 
 capacity could not have framed a very good anfwer, from 
 fome part or other, either of the vindication or the book it- 
 felf. 
 
 However, I have wrote, and had by me near two years, a 
 defence of the Fable of the Bees, in which I have ftated and 
 endeavoured to folve all the objections that might reafon- 
 
 S 3 
 
262 . PREFACE. 
 
 ably be made againft it, as to the doctrine contained in it, 
 and the detriment it might be of to others : for this is the 
 only thing about which I ever had any concern. Being 
 confcious, that I have wrote with no ill defign, I mould be 
 forry to lie under the imputation of it : but as to the good- 
 nefs or badnefs of the performance itfelf, the thought was 
 never worth my care ; and therefore thofe critics, that 
 found fault with my bad reafoning, and faid of the book, 
 that it is ill wrote, that there is nothing new in it, that it is 
 incoherent fluff, that the language is barbarous, the humour 
 low, and the ftyle mean and pitiful ; thofe critics, 1 fay, are 
 all very welcome to fay what they pleafe : In the main, I 
 believe they are in the right ; but if they are not, I fhall ne- 
 ver give myfelf the trouble to contradict them ; for I never 
 think an author more foolifhly employed, than when he is 
 vindicating his own abilities. As 1 wrote it for my diver- 
 lion, fo I had my ends ; if thofe who read it have not had 
 theirs, I am forry for it, though I think myfelf not at all an- 
 fwerable for the difappointment. It was not wrote by fub- 
 fcription, nor have I ever warranted, any where, what ufe or 
 goodnefs it would be of: on the contrary, in the very pre- 
 face, I have called it an inconfiderable trifle ; and fince that-, 
 I have publicly owned that it was a rhapfody. If people 
 will buy books without looking into them, or knowing what 
 they are, I cannot fee whom they have to blame but them- 
 felves, when they do not anfwer expectations. B elides, it is 
 no new thing for people to diflike books after they have 
 bought them : this will happen fometimes, even when men 
 of confiderable figure had given them the ftrongeft aflu- 
 xances, before hand, that they would be pleafed with them. 
 
 A confiderable part of the defence I mentioned, has been 
 feen by feveral of my friends, who have been in expectation 
 of it for fome time. I have flayed neither for types nor pa- 
 per, and yet I have feveral reafons, why 1 do not yet publifh 
 it ; which, having touched nobody's money, nor made any 
 promife concerning it, I beg leave to keep to myfelf. Mofl 
 of my adverfaries, whenever it comes out, will think it foon 
 enough ; and nobody fufFers by the delay but myfelf. 
 
 Since I was firft attacked, it has long been a matter of 
 wonder and perplexity to me to find out, why and how men 
 mould conceive, that I had wrote with an intent to debauch 
 the nation, and promote all manner of vice : and it was a 
 gieat while before I could derive the charge from any thing, 
 
P R E F A C £. 263 
 
 but wilful miftake and premeditated malice. But fince I 
 have feen, that men could be ferious in apprehending the 
 increafe of rogues and robberies, from the frequent repre- 
 sentations of the Beggar's Opera, I am perfuaded, that there 
 really are fuch wrongheads in the world, as will fancy vices 
 to be encouraged, when they fee them expofed. To the 
 fame perverfenefs of judgment it muft have been owing, that 
 fome of my adverfaries were highly incenfed with me, for 
 having owned, in the Vindication, that hitherto I had not 
 been able to conquer my vanity, as well as I could have 
 wifhed. From their cenfure it is manifeft, that they muft 
 have imagined, that to complain of a frailty, was the fame as 
 to brag of it. But if thefe angry gentlemen had been lefs 
 blinded with paffion, or feen with better eyes, they would 
 eafiiy have perceived, unlefs they were too well pleated with 
 their pride, that to have made the fame confefiion them- 
 felves, they wanted nothing but fmcerity. Whoever boafts 
 of his vanity, and at the fame time fhows his arrogance, is 
 unpardonable. But when we hear a man complain of an in- 
 firmity, and his want of power entirely to cure it, whilft he 
 fuffers no fymptoms of it to appear, that we could juitly up- 
 braid him with, we are fo far from being offended, that we 
 are pleafed with the ingenuity, and applaud his candour; and 
 when fuch an author takes no greater liberties with his rea- 
 ders, than what is ufual in the fame manner of writing, and 
 owns that to be the remit of vanity, which others tell a thou- 
 fand lies about, his confefiion is a compliment, and the frank- 
 nefs of it ought not to be looked upon other wife, than as a 
 civility to the public, a condefcennon he was not obliged to 
 make. It is not in feeling the pailions, or in being affected 
 with the frailties of nature, that vice ccnhTts ; but in in- 
 dulging and obeying the call of them, contrary to the dic- 
 tates of reafon. Whoever pays great deference to his rea- 
 ders, refpeclfulJy fubmitting himfelf to their judgment, and 
 tells them at the fame time, that he is entirely destitute of 
 pride ; whoever, I fay, does this, fpoils his compliment whilft 
 he is making of it : for it is no better than bragging, that it 
 . cofts him nothing. Perfons of tafte, and the leaft delicacy, 
 can be but little affected with a man's modefty, of whom 
 they are fure, that he is wholly void of pride within: the ab- 
 fence of the one makes the virtue of the other ceafe ; at leaft 
 the merit of it is not greater than that of chaitity in an 
 eunuch, or humility in a beggar. What glory would it be 
 S 4 
 
264 PREFACE. 
 
 to the memory of Cato, that he refufed to touch the water 
 that was brought him, if it was not fuppofed that he was very 
 thirfty when he did it ? 
 
 The reader will find, that in this fecond part I have en- 
 deavoured to illuftrate and explain feveral things, that were 
 obfcure and only hinted at in the firfl. 
 
 Whilft I was forming this defign, I found, on the one hand, 
 that, as to myfelf, the eafieft way of executing it, would be 
 by dialogue ; but I knew, on the other, that to difcufs 
 opinions, and manage controversies, it is counted the moil 
 unfair manner of writing. When partial men have a mind 
 to demoliih an adverfary, and triumph over him with little 
 expence, it has long been a frequent practice to attack him 
 with dialogues, in which the champion,' who is to lofe the 
 battle,' appears at the very beginning of the engagement, to 
 be the victim that is to be facrificed, and feldom makes a 
 better figure than cocks on Shrove -Tuefday, that receive 
 blows, but return none, and are vifibly fet up on purpofe to 
 be knocked down. That this is to be faid againfl dialogues, 
 is certainly true ; but it is as true, that there is no other 
 manner of writing, by which greater reputation has been ob- 
 tained. Thole, who have moil excelled all others in it, were 
 the two moft famous authors of all antiquity, Plato and Ci- 
 cero : the one wrote almoft all his philoibphical works in 
 dialogues, and the other has left us nothing elfe. It is evi- 
 dent, then, that the fault of thofe, who have not fucceeded in 
 dialogues ; was in the management, and not in the manner of 
 writing ;. and that nothing but the ill ufe that has been made 
 of it, could ever have brought it into difrepute. The reafon 
 why Plato preferred dialogues to any other manner of 
 writing, he laid, was, that things thereby might look, as if 
 they were acted, rather than told : the fame was afterwards 
 given by Cicero in the fame words, rendered into his own 
 language. The greateft objection that in reality lies againfl 
 it, is the difficulty there is in writing them well. The chief 
 of Plato's interlocutors was always his mailer Socrates, who 
 every where maintains his character with great dignity ; but 
 it would have been impoffible to have made fuch an extraor- 
 dinary perfon fpeak like himfelf on fo many emergencies, if 
 Plato had not been as great a man as Socrates. 
 
 Cicero, who fludied nothing more than to imitate Plato, 
 introduced in his dialogues iome of the greateft men in 
 Rome, his contemporaries, that were known to be of different 
 
preface. 265 
 
 opinions, and made them maintain and defend every one his 
 own fentiments, as llrenuouily. and in as live 1 .; r. as 
 
 f have done : -d in ret 
 
 his d a man may e 
 
 company with Ceveral learned men of dine, 5S and llu- 
 
 But to do : anmuft have Cicero's capacity. 
 
 L Man likewife, and fever:.! others among the ancients, 
 
 kers. perfons of known characters. That 
 
 this : and engages the reader more than ftrange 
 
 names, is undeniable; but then, when the pe fall 
 
 fkortoftr. rafters, it plainly mows, that the author 
 
 at he was to execute. To avoid this 
 
 incon lialogue-writen the moderns, 
 
 gs, which they either invent- 
 ed th* ; or borrowed of others. Thefe are, gene 
 
 e Greek, that 
 :y perfons they are 
 civen to, dene 
 
 t hate. But cf all thefe haf 
 there is not one that has : to 10 
 
 many authors of different v : Phiklethes^ 
 
 a plain demomtration of the grc. 
 
 There has nc t be in a* psrpc 
 - two hundred ye: . :h both y 
 
 or other, have not made ufe of 
 
 who. fought on .like 
 
 Dry 1 _r, been conqueror, and conf 
 
 all before him. But. as by us the evei 
 
 tie limit :: are 
 
 led, and before 
 
 : in theii 
 iplained. had ootfport enough for their m: 
 
 and that knowing fo much before hand. : 
 verlion. : me time, au- 
 
 thors are grown lefs folicitous about the f the per- 
 
 fonages they ; releis way. feeming to me at 
 
 leaft able as any other, I have folk wed ; and had 
 
 no other meaning by the names 1 have gr mterloc a- 
 
 than to dhtinguilli them, without the le rd to 
 
 the derivation of words, or ... ro the etymo- 
 
 : all the care I a : I 
 
 the pronunciation of them (houid D 
 haril. rteniive, 
 
£65 p n e r a c £ „ 
 
 But though the names I have chofen are feigned, and the 
 circumftances of the perfons fictitious, the characters them- 
 felves are real', and as faithfully copied from nature as I 
 have been able to take them. I have known critics find 
 fault with play- wrights for annexing fnort characters to the 
 names they gave the perfons of the drama ; alleging, that 
 it is foreftalling their pleafure, and that whatever the adors 
 are reprefented to be, they want no monitor, and are wife 
 enough to find it out themfelves. But I could never ap- 
 prove of this cenfure : there is a fatisfaction, I think, in 
 knowing ones company ; and when I am to converfe with 
 people for a confiderable time, I defire to be well acquainted 
 with them, and the fooner the better. It is for this reafon, I 
 thought it proper to give the reader fome account of the 
 perfons that are to entertain him. As they are fuppofed to 
 be people of quality, I beg leave, before I come to particu- 
 lars, to premife fome things concerning the beau monde in 
 general ; which, though moil people perhaps know them 
 every body does not always attend to. Among the fafliioh- 
 able part of mankind throughout Chriftendom, there are, in 
 all countries, perfons, who, though they feel a juft abhorrence 
 to atheifmand profeffed infidelity, yet have very little religion, 
 and are fcarce half-believers, when their lives come to be look- 
 ed into, and their fentiments examined. What is chiefly aim- 
 ed at in a refined education, is to procure as much eafe and 
 pleafure upon earth, as that can afford : therefore men are 
 firft inftruded in all the various arts of rendering their beha- 
 viour agreeable to others, with the lead difiurbance to them- 
 felves. Secondly, they are imbued with the knowledge of 
 all the elegant comforts of life, as well as the leffons of hu- 
 man prudence, to avoid pain and trouble, in order to enjoy 
 as much of the world, and with as little oppofition, as it is 
 poflible. Whilft thus men fiudy their own private intereit, in 
 affifting each other to promote and increaie the pleafures of 
 life in general, they find by experience, that to compafs thofe 
 ends, every thing ought to be baniihed from converfation, 
 that can have. the leaft tendency of making others uneafy ; 
 and to reproach men with their faults or imperfedions, ne- % 
 gleds or omiflions, or to put them in mind of their duty, are 
 offices that none are allowed to take upon them, but parents 
 or profeffed mailers and tutors ; nor even they before compa- 
 ny : but to reprove and pretend to teach others, we have no 
 authority over, is ill manners, even in a clergyman out of the 
 
Preface. 267 
 
 pulpit ; nor is he there to talk magifterially, or ever to men- 
 tion things, that are melancholy or difmal, if he mould pafs 
 for a polite preacher : but whatever we may vouchfafe to 
 hear at church, neither the certainty of a future Hate, nor 
 the neceffity of repentance, nor any thing elfe relating to the 
 efTentials of Chriftianity, are ever to be talked of when we 
 are out of it, among the beau monde, upon any account 
 whatever. The fubjedl is not diverting : beiides, every body 
 is fuppofed to know thofe things, and to take care according- 
 ly ; nay, it is unmannerly to think otherwife. The decency 
 in fafhion being the chief, if not the only rule, all modifh 
 people walk by, not a few of them go to church, and receive 
 the facrament, from the fame principle that obliges them to 
 pay vifits to one another, and now and then to make an en- 
 tertainment. But as the greater! care of the beau monde is 
 to be agreeable, and appear well-bred, fo moll of them take 
 particular care, and many againft their confciences, not to 
 feem burdened with more religion than it is fafhionable to 
 have, for fear of being thought to be either hypocrites or 
 bigots. 
 
 Virtue, however, is a very fafhionable word, and fome of 
 the molt luxurious are extremely fond of the amiable found; 
 though they mean nothing by it, but a great veneration for 
 whatever is courtly or fublime, and an equal averlion to 
 every thing that is vulgar or unbecoming. They feem to 
 imagine, that it chiefly conn* ft s in a Uriel compliance to the 
 rales of politenefs, and all the laws of honour, that have any 
 regard to the refpecl that is due to themfelves. It is the ex- 
 igence of this virtue, that is often maintained with fo much 
 pomp of words, and for the eternity of which fo many cham- l 
 pions are ready to take up arms : whilft the votaries of it de- 
 ny themfelves no pleafure, they can enjoy, either fafhion- 
 ably or in fecret, and, inftead of facrincing the heart to the 
 love of real virtue, can only condefcend to adandon the out- 
 ward deformity of vice, for the fatisfaction they receive from 
 appearing to be well-bred. It is counted ridiculous for men 
 to commit violence upon themfelves, or to maintain, that 
 virtue requires ielf-denial : all court phiiofophers are agreed, 
 that nothing can be lovely or deniable, that is mortifying or 
 uneafy. A civil behaviour among the fair in public, and a 
 deportment inoffeniive both in words and actions, is all the 
 chaftity the polite world requires in men. What liberties 
 foever a man gives himfelf in private, his reputation (hall ne- 
 1 
 
£58 P R E F A C fit 
 
 ver fufFer, whilft he conceals his amours from all thofe that 
 are not unmannerly inquifitive, and takes care that nothing 
 criminal can ever be proved upon him. Si ?wn cqfte faltem 
 caute, is a precept that fufficiently mows what every body 
 expe&s; and though incontinence is owned to be a fin, yet 
 never to have been guilty of it is a character which molt An- 
 gle men under thirty would not be fond of, even amongft 
 modeft women. 
 
 As the world everywhere, in compliment itfelf, defires 
 to be counted really virtuous, fo bare-faced vices, and all tref- 
 pafTes committed in fight of it, are heinous and unpardon- 
 able. To fee a man drunk in the open ftreet, or any ferious 
 affembly at noon-day, is Shocking ; becaufe it is a violation 
 of the laws of decency, and plainly fhows a want of refpect, 
 and neglect of duty, which every body is fuppofed to owe to 
 the public. Men of mean circumstances likewife may be 
 blamed for fpending more time or money in drinking, than 
 they can afford ; but when thefe and all worldly considera- 
 tions are out of the queftion, drunkennefs itfelf, as it is a fin, 
 an offence to Heaven, is feldom cenfured ; and no man of 
 fortune fcruples to own, that he was at fuch a time in fuch a 
 company, where they drank very hard. Where nothing is 
 committed, that is either beaitly, or otherwife extravagant, 
 focieties, that meet on purpofe to drink and be merry, 
 reckon their manner of palling away the time as innocent as 
 any other, tliough molt days in the year they fpend five or 
 fix hours of the four and twenty in that diverfion. No man 
 had ever the reputation of being a good companion, that 
 w^ould never drink to excefs ; and if a man's conftitution be | 
 fo ftrong, or himfelf fo cautious, that the dole he takes over- I 
 night, never diforders him the next day, the worft that fhall 
 be faid of him, is, that he loves his bottle with moderation : 
 though every night constantly he makes drinking his paftime, 
 and hardly ever goes to bed entirely fober. 
 
 Avarice, it is true, is generally deteSted ; but as men may 
 be as guilty of it by fcraping money together, as they can 
 be by hoarding it up, fo all the bale, the fordid, and unrea- 
 fonable means of acquiring wealth, ought to be equally ccn- : 
 demned and exploded, with the vile, the pitiful, and penuri- 
 ous way of faving it : but the world is more indulgent ; no" 
 man is taxed with avarice, that will conform with the beau 
 ?nonde 9 and live every w ? ay in fplendour, though he Should 
 always be raifing the rents of his eftate, and hardly fuller his 
 
 
PREFACE. 269 
 
 tenants to live under him ; though he fhould enrich himfelf 
 by ufurj, and all the barbarous advantages that extortion 
 can make of the neceffities of others : and though, more- 
 over, he fhould be a bad paymafter himfelf, and an unmer- 
 ciful creditor to the unfortunate ; it is all one, no man is 
 counted covetous, who entertains well, and will allow his fa- 
 mily what is fafhionable for a perfon in his condition. How 
 often do we fee men of very large eftates unreafonably foli- 
 citous after greater riches'. What greedinefs do fome men 
 difcover in extending the perquifites of their offices ! What 
 dilhonourable condefcenfions are made for places of profit I 
 What flavifh attendance is given, and what low fubmiffions 
 and unmanly cringes are made to favourites for penfions, by 
 men that could fubfift without them ! Yet thefe things are 
 no reproach to men, and they are never upbraided with 
 them but by their enemies, or thofe that envy them, and per- 
 haps the discontented and the poor. On the contrary, moil 
 of the well-bred people, that live in affluence themfelves, 
 will commend them for their diligence and activity ; and fay 
 of them, that they take care of the main chance ; that they 
 are induitrious men for their families, and that they know 
 how, and are fit, to live in the world. 
 
 But thefe kind conftructions are not more hurtful to the 
 practice of Chriftianity, than the high opinion which, in an 
 artful education, men are taught to have of their fpecies, is 
 to the belief of its doctrine, if a right ufe be not made of it. 
 That the great pre-eminence we have over all other crea- 
 tures we are acquainted with, confifts in our rational facul- 
 ty, is very true ; but it is as true, that the more we are 
 taught to admire ourfelves, the more our pride increafes, and 
 the greater ftrefs we lay on the funiciency of our reafon : 
 For as experience teaches us, that the greater and the more 
 tranfcendent the eiteem is, which men have for their own 
 worth, the lefs capable they generally are to bear injuries 
 without refentment ; fo we fee, in like manner, that the more 
 exalted the notions are which men entertain of their better 
 part, their reafoning faculty, the more remote and averfe 
 they will be from giving their afTent to any thing that 
 feems to infult over or contradict it : And afking a man to 
 admit of any thing he cannot comprehend, the proud rea- 
 foner calls an affront to human underftanding. But as eafe 
 and pleafure are the grand aim of the beau monde, and ci- 
 yility is infeparable from their behaviour, whether they are 
 
270 PREFACE. 
 
 believers or not, fo well-bred people never quarrel with the 
 religion they are brought up in : They will readily comply 
 with every ceremony in divine worfhip they have been ufed 
 to, and never difpute with you either about the Old or the 
 New Teftament, if, in your turn, you will forbear laying 
 great ftrefs upon faith and myfteries, and allow them to give 
 an allegorical, or any other figurative fenfe to the Hiftory of 
 the Creation, and whatever elfe they cannot comprehend 
 or account for by the light of nature, 
 
 I am far from believing, that, among the fafhionable 
 people, there are not, in all Chriftian countries, many per- 
 sons of ltricter virtue, and greater lincerity in religion, than 
 I have here defcribed ; but that a confiderable part of man- 
 kind have a great refemblance to the piclure I have been 
 drawing, I appeal to every knowing and candid reader. 
 Horatio, Cleomenes, and Fulvia, are the names I have given 
 to my interlocutors : The firft reprefents one of the modifh 
 people I have been lpeaking of, but rather of the better fort 
 of them as to morality, though he feems to have a greater 
 diftruft of the lincerity of clergymen, than he has of that of 
 any other profeffion, and to be of the opinion, which is ex- 
 preifed in that trite and fpecious, as well as falfe and injurious 
 faying, priefts of all religions are the fame. As to his ftudies, 
 he is fuppofed to be tolerably well verfed in the claffics, and 
 to have read more than is ufual for people of quality, that are 
 born to great eitates. He is a man of Uriel: honour, and of 
 juftice as well as humanity; rather profufe than covetous, and 
 altogether difinterefted in his principles. He has been abroad, 
 feen the world, and is fuppofed to be poffefTed of the greater! 
 part of the accomplifhments that ufually gain a man the re- 
 putation of being very much of a gentleman. 
 
 Cleomenes had been juft fuch another, but was much re- 
 formed. As he had formerly, for his amufement only, been 
 dipping into anatomy, and feveral parts of natural philoso- 
 phy ; fo, fmce he was come home from his travels, he had 
 itudied human nature, and the knowledge of himfelf, with 
 great application. It is fuppofed, that, whilft he was thus ! 
 employing moll of his leifure hours, he met with the Fable 
 of the Bees; and, making a great ufe of what he read, com- 
 pared what he felt himfelf within, as well as what he had feen 
 in the world, with the fentiments fet forth in that book, and j 
 found the infincerity of men fully as univerfal, as it was there | 
 represented. He had no opinion of the pleas and excufes , 
 
PREFACE. 27I 
 
 that are commonly made to cover the real defires of the 
 heart ; and he ever fufpected the fincerity of men, whom he 
 few to be fond of the world, and with eagernefs grafping at 
 wealth and power, when they pretended that the great end 
 of their labours was to have opportunities of doing good to 
 others upon earth, and becoming themielves more thankful 
 to Heaven ; efpecially, if they conformed with the beau 
 monde, and feemed to take delight in a fafhionable way of 
 living : He had the fame fufpicion of all men of fenfe, who, 
 having read and conftdered the gofpel, would maintain the 
 poffibility that perfons might purfue worldly glory with all 
 their ftrength, and, at the fame time, be good Chriftians. 
 Cleomenes himfelf believed the Bible to be the word of God, 
 without referve, and was entirely convinced of the myfteri-* 
 ous, as well as hiilorical truths that are contained in it. But 
 as he was fully perfuaded, not only of the veracity of the 
 Chriflian religion, but likewife of the feverity of its precepts, 
 fo he attacked his pailions with vigour, but never fcrupled 
 to own his want of power to lubdue them -or the violent op- 
 pofition he felt from within ; often complaining, that the ob- 
 stacles he met with from fiefh and blood, were infurmount- 
 able. As he underftood perfectly well the difficulty of the 
 talk required in the gofpel, fo he ever oppofed thofe eafy ca- 
 fuifts, that endeavoured to leffen and extenuate it for their 
 own ends ; and he loudly maintained, that men's gratitude 
 to Heaven was an unacceptable offering, whilft they conti- 
 nued to live in eafe and luxury, and were vilibly folicitous 
 after their fhare of the pomp and vanity of this world. In 
 the very politenefs of converfation, the complacency with 
 which fafhionable people are continually foothing each 
 other's frailties, and in almoft every part of a gentleman's 
 behaviour, he thought there was a difagreement between 
 the outward appearances, and what is felt within, that was 
 clafhing with uprightnefs and fincerity. Cleomenes was of 
 opinion, that of all religious virtues, nothing was more fcarce, 
 or more difficult to acquire, than Chriitian humility ; and 
 that to deftroy the poffibility of ever attaining to it, nothing 
 was fo effectual as what is called a gentleman's education ; 
 and that the more dexterous, by this means, men grew in 
 concealing the outward figns, and every fymptom of pride, 
 the more entirely they became enilaved by it within. He 
 carefully examined into the felicity that accrues from the 
 upplaufe of others, and the inviiible wages which men f 
 
aj2 PREFACE. 
 
 fenfe and judicious fancy received for their labours; and 
 what it was at the bottom that rendered thofe airy rewards 
 fo raviihing to mortals. He had often obferved, and watch- 
 ed narrowly the countenances and behaviour of men, when 
 any thing of theirs was admired or commended, fuch as the 
 choice of their furniture, the politenefs of their entertain- 
 ments, the elegancy of their equipages, their drefs, their di- 
 verfions, or the fine tafle difplayed in their buildings. 
 
 Cleomenes feemed charitable, and was a man of Uriel: mo- 
 rals, yet he would often complain that he was not poiTeired 
 of one Chriftian virtue, and found fault with his own ac- 
 tions, that had all the appearances of goodnefs ; becaufe he 
 was confeious, he faid, that they were performed from a 
 wrong principle. The effects of his education, and his aver- 
 fion to infamy, had always been ftrong enough to keep him 
 from turpitude; but this he afcribed to his vanity, which he 
 complained was in fuch full poffeffion of his heart, that he 
 knew no gratification of any appetite from which he was 
 able to exclude it. Having always been a man of unblame- 
 able behaviour, the fincerity of his belief had made no vi- 
 fible alteration in his conduct to outward appearances ; but 
 in private he never ceafed from examining himfelf. As no 
 man was lefs prone to enthufiafm than himfelf, fo his life 
 was very uniform ; and as he never pretended to high flights 
 of devotion, fo he never was guilty of enormous offences. 
 Pie had a ftrong averfion to rigorifls of all forts ; and when 
 he faw men quarrelling about forms and creeds, and the 
 interpretation of obfeure pla'ces, and requiring of others the 
 ftricteft compliance to their own opinions in difputable mat- 
 ters, it railed his indignation to fee the generality of them 
 want charity, and many of them fcandaloufly remifs in the 
 plained and moft neceffary duties. He took uncommon 
 pains to fearch into human nature, and left no ftone unturn- 
 ed, to detect the pride and hypocrify of it, and, among his 
 intimate friends, to expofe the ftratagems of the one, and the 
 exorbitant power of the other. He was fure, that the fatis- 
 faction which arofe from w 7 orldly enjoyments, was fomething 
 diftinct from gratitude, and foreign to religion ; and he felt 
 plainly, that as it proceeded from within, fo it centered in 
 himfelf: The very relifh of life, he faid, was accompanied 
 with an elevation of mind, that feemed to be infeparable 
 from his being. Whatever principle was the caufe of this, 
 he was convinced within himfelf, that the facrifice of the 
 
 i 
 
PREFACE. 273 
 
 heart, which the gofpel requires, confuted in the utter ex- 
 tirpation of that principle ; confeffing, at the fame time, 
 that this fatisfacrion he found in himfelf, this elevation of 
 mind, caufed his chief pleafure ; and that, in all the comforts 
 of life, it made the greater! part of the enjoyment. 
 
 Cleomenes, with grief, often owned his fears, that his at- 
 tachment to the world would never ceafe wtrilfl he lived ; 
 the reafons he gave, were the great regard he continued to 
 have for the opinion of worldly men; the ftubbornefs of his 
 indocile heart, that could not be brought to change the ob- 
 jects of its pride ; and refufed to be aihamed of what,' from 
 his infancy, it had been taught to glory in ; and, laftly, the 
 impoffibility, he found in himfelf, of being ever reconciled to 
 contempt, and enduring, with patience, to be laughed at 
 and defpifed f@r any caufe, or on any corifideratioii what- 
 ever. Thefe were the obflacles, he faid, that hindered him 
 from breaking off all commerce with the beau ??wnde, 
 and entirely changing his manner of living ; without which, 
 he thought it mockery to talk of renouncing the world, and 
 bidding adieu to all the pomp and vanity of it. 
 
 The part of Fulvia, which is the third perfon, is fo incon- 
 fiderable, fhe juft appearing only in the firft dialogue, that 
 it would be impertinent to trouble the reader with a cha- 
 racter of her. I had a mind to fay fome things on painting 
 and operas, which I thought might, by introducing her, be 
 brought in more naturally, and with lefs trouble, than they 
 could have been without her. The ladies, I hope, will find 
 no reafon, from the little fhe does fay, to fuipect that fhe 
 wants either virtue or undemanding. 
 
 As to the fable, or what is fuppofed to have occafioned 
 the hilt dialogue between Horatio and Cleomenes, it is this. 
 Horatio, who had found great delight in my Lord Shaftfbu- 
 ry's polite manner of writing, his fine raillery, and blending 
 virtue with good manners, was a great (tickler for the focial 
 fyftem; and wondered how Cleomenes could be an advocate 
 for uch a' book as the Fable of the Bees, of which he had 
 heard a very vile character from feveral quarters. Cleo- 
 menes, who loved and had a great friendfhip for Horatio, 
 wanted to undeceive him ; but the other, who hated fatire, 
 was prepofTefTed, and having been told likewife, that martial 
 courage, and honour itfelf, were ridiculed in that book, he 
 was very much exafperated againft the author and his whole 
 fcheme : he had two or three times heard Gleomene* di£- 
 
 T 
 
274 PREFACE. 
 
 courfe on this fubject with others; but would never enter 
 into the argument himfelf; and finding his friend often pref- 
 fing to come to it, he began to look cooly upon him, and at 
 laft to avoid all opportunities of being alone with him : till 
 Cleomenes drew him in, by the ftratagem which the reader 
 will fee he made ufe of, as Horatio was one day taking his 
 leave after a fhort complimentary vifit. 
 
 I mould not wonder to fee men of candour, as well as good 
 fenfe, find fault with the manner, in which I have chofe to 
 publifh thefe thoughts of mine to the world : There certainly 
 is fomething in it, which I confefs I do not know how to 
 jullify to my own fatisfaction. That fuch a man as Cleo- 
 menes, having met with a book agreeable to his own fenti- 
 ments, mould defire to be acquainted with the author of it, 
 has nothing in it that is improbable or unfeemly ; but 
 then it will be objected, that, whoever the interlocutors are, 
 it was I myfelf who wrote the dialogues ; and that it is con- 
 trary to all decency, that a man mould proclaim concerning 
 his own work, all that a friend of his, perhaps, might be al- 
 lowed to fay : this is true ; and the belt anfwer which I 
 think can be made to it, is, that fuch an impartial man, and 
 fuch a lover of truth, as Cleomenes is reprefented to be, 
 would be as cautious in fpeaking of his friend's merit, as he 
 w r ould be of his own. It might be urged likewife,.that when a 
 man profelfes himfelf to be an author's friend, and exactly to 
 entertain the fame fentiments with another, it muft naturally 
 put every reader upon his guard, and render him as fufpi- 
 cious and diftruftful of fuch a man, as he would be of the au- 
 thor himfelf. But how good foever the excufes are, that 
 might be made for this manner of writing, I would never 
 have ventured upon it, if I had not liked it in the famous 
 Gaffendus, who, by the help of feveral dialogues and a friend, 
 who is the chief perfonage in them, has not only explained 
 and illuilrated his iyftem, but likewife refuted his adverfaries: 
 him I have followed, and I hope the reader will find, that 
 whatever opportunity 1 have had by this means, of fpeaking 
 well of myfelf indirectly, 1 had no defign to make that, or 
 any other ill ufe of it. 
 
 As it is fuppofed, that Cleomenes is my friend, and fpeaks 
 my fentiments, fo it is but juftice, that every thing which he 
 advances fnould be looked upon and confidered as my own ; 
 but no man in his fenfes would think, that 1 ought to be 
 equally reiponfible for every thing that Horatio fays, who is 
 
PREFACE. 275 
 
 his antagonift. If ever he offers any thing that favours of 
 libertinifm, or is otherwife exceptionable, which Cleomenes 
 does not reprove him for in the heft and moft ferious manner, 
 or to which he gives not the moft fatisfactory and convincing 
 anfwer that can be made, I am to blame, otherwife not. Yet 
 from the fate the firft part has met with, I expect to fee in 
 a little time feveral things tranfcribed and cited from this, 
 in that manner, by themfelves, without the replies that are 
 made to them, and fo mown to the world, as my words and 
 my opinion. The opportunity of doing this will be greater 
 in this part than it was in the former, and ihould I always 
 have fair play, and never be attacked, but by fuch adverfa- 
 ries, as would make their quotations from me without arti- 
 fice, and ule me with common honefty, it would go a great 
 w T ay to the refuting of me ; and I mould myfelf begin to fuf- 
 pe& the truth of feveral things I have advanced, and which 
 hitherto I cannot help believing. 
 
 A ftroke made in this manner, which the reader will 
 
 fometimes meet w 7 ith in the following dialogues, is a fign, 
 either of interruption, when the perfon fpeaking is not fuf- 
 fered to go on with what he was going to fay, or elfe of a 
 paufe, during which fomething is fuppoied to be faid or done, 
 not relating to the difcourfe. 
 
 As in this part I have not altered the fubjecl, on which 
 a former, known by the name of the Fable of the Bees, was 
 wrote; and the fame unbiaffed method of fearching after 
 truth, and inquiring into the nature of man and fociety, made 
 ufe of in that, is continued in this, I thought it unneceffary 
 to look out for another title ; and being myfelf a great lover 
 of fimplicity, and my invention none of the moft fruitful, the 
 reader, I hope, will pardon the bald, inelegant afpect, and un- 
 ufual emptmefs of the title page. 
 
 Here 1 would have made an end of my Preface, which I 
 know very w r ell is too long already : but the world having 
 been very grofsly impofed upon by a falle report, that fome 
 months ago was very folemnly made, and as induftrioufly fpread 
 in moft or the newfpapers, for a confiderable time, I think it 
 would be an unpardonable neglect in me, of the public, 
 mould I fuller them ; to remain in the error they were led 
 into, when 1 am actually addrefling them ; and there is no 
 other perfon, from whom they can fo juftly expect to be un- 
 deceived. In the London Evening Poft of Saturday March 9, 
 
 T2 
 
27$ PREFACE, 
 
 1727-8. the following paragraph was printed in fmall Italic, 
 at the end of the home news. 
 
 On Friday evening the firfl infcant, a gentleman, well- 
 drefTed, appeared at the bonfire before St. James's Gate, who 
 declared himfelf the author of a book, intituled, the Fable of 
 the Bees ; and that he was ferry for writing the fame : and 
 recollecting his former promife, pronounced thefe words : 
 I commit my book to the flames ; and threw it in accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 The Monday following, the fame piece of news was re- 
 peated in the Daily Journal, and after that for a coniiderable 
 time, as I have faid, in mod of the papers : but fince the Sa- 
 turday mentioned, which was the only time it was printed 
 hy itfelf, it appeared always with a fmall addition to it, and 
 annexed (with a N. B. before it) to the following advertife- 
 nxent. 
 
 AFETH-AOTIA : 
 
 Or an Inquiry into the Original of Moral Virtue, wherein 
 the fajfe notions of Machiavel, Hobbs, Spinofa, and Mr. 
 Bayle, as they are collected and digefted by the Author of 
 the Fable of the Bees, are examined and confuted; and the 
 eternal and unalterable nature and obligation of moral vir- 
 tue is ftated and vindicated \ to which is prefixed, a Prefato- 
 ry Introduction, in a Letter to that Author, By Alexander 
 Innes, D. D. Preacher AiTiftant at St. Margaret's, Weftmin- 
 fier. 
 
 The fmall addition which I faid was made to that notable 
 piece of news, after it came to be annexed to this advertife- 
 xnent, confided of thefe five words (upon reading the above 
 book), which were put in after, " forry for writing the fame." 
 This itory having been often repeated in the papers, and ne- 
 ver publicly contradicted, many people, it feems, were cre- 
 dulous enough to believe, notwithftanding the improbability 
 of it. But the lead attentive would have fufpected the 
 whole, as foon as they had feen the addition that was made 
 to it, the fecond time it was publiflied ; for fuppofing it to 
 be intelligible, as it follows the advertisement, it cannot be 
 pretended, that the repenting gentleman pronounced thofe 
 very words. He mult have named the book ; and if he had 
 laid, that his forrow was occaiioned by reading the apeth- 
 aotia, or the new book of the reverend Dr. Innes, how came 
 7 
 
? R E F A C Eo ^77 
 
 fuch a remarkable part of his confeffion to be omitted in tlie 
 firft publication, where the well-dreifed gentleman's words 
 tmd a&ions feemed to be let down with fo much care and 
 exachiefs? Befides, every body knows the great induftry, and 
 general intelligence of our news-writers : if fuch a fkrc'e had 
 really been aded, and a man had been hired to pronounce 
 the words mentioned, and throw a. book into the fire, which 
 I have often wondered was not done, is it -credible at all, 
 that a thing fo remarkable, done fo openly, and before fo 
 many witneffes, the fir ft day of March, mould not be taken 
 notice of in any of the papers before the ninth, and never be 
 repeated afterwards, or ever mentioned but as an appendix 
 of the advertifement to recommend Dr. Innes's book? 
 
 However, this ftory has been much talked of, and occa- 
 sioned a great deal of mirth among my acquaintance, feveral 
 of whom have earneftly preffed me more than once to adver- 
 life the falfity of it, which I would never comply with for 
 fear of being laughed at, as fome years ago poor Dr. Patridge 
 w 7 as, for feriouHy maintaining that he was not dead. But all 
 this while we were in the dark, and nobody could tell how 
 this report came into the world, or what it could be that had 
 given a handle to it, when one -evening a friend of mine, 
 who had borrowed Dr. Innes's book, which till then I had 
 never feen, fhowed me in it the following lines. 
 
 But a propos, Sir, if I rightly remember, the ingenuous Mr. 
 Law, in his Remarks upon ycur Fable of the Bees, puts you 
 in mind of a promife you had made, by which you obliged 
 yourfelf to burn that book at any time or place your adver- 
 fary fhould appoint, if any thing fhould be found in it tend- 
 ing to immorality or the corruption of manners. I have a 
 great refpecl for that gentleman, though 1 am not perfonally 
 acquainted with him, but I cannot but condemn his excef- 
 five credulity and good nature, in believing that a man of 
 your principles could be a fiave to his word; for' my own 
 part, I think, I know you too well to be foeafily impofad up- 
 on; or if, after all, you fhould really perlift in your refolu- 
 tion, and commit it to the flames, I appoint the rirft of March, 
 before St. James's Gate, for that purpofe, it being the birth- 
 day of the beft and moft glorious queen upon earth; and the 
 burning of your book the fmalleft atonement you can make, 
 for endeavouring to corrupt and debauch his majefty's fub- 
 jects in their principles. ' Now, Sir, if you agree to this, I 
 tope you are not fo deftitute of friends, but that you *uay 
 
 T 3 
 
27S PREFACE. 
 
 find fome charitable neighbour or other, who will lend you a 
 helping hand, and throw in the author at the fame time by 
 way of appendix; the doing of which will, in my opinion, 
 complete the folemnity of the day. I am not your patient, 
 but, your moll humble fervant. 
 
 Thus ends what, in the APETH-AoriA, Doctor. Innes is 
 pleafed to call a Prefatory Introduction, in a Letter to the 
 Author of the Fable of the Bees. It is figned A. I. and dated 
 Tot-hill- fields, Weitminiter, Jan. 20. 1727-8. 
 
 Now all our wonder ceafed. The judicious reader will 
 eafily allow me, that, having read thus much, I had an am- 
 ple difpenfation from going on any further ; therefore I can 
 fay nothing of the book : and as to the reverend author of 
 it, who feems to think hirnfelf fo well acquainted with my 
 principles, I have not the honour to know either him or his 
 morals, othenvife than from what I have quoted here. Ex 
 pzde Herculem. 
 
 London, Odojer 20. 1728. 
 
THE FIRST 
 
 DIALOGUE. 
 
 BETWEEN 
 
 HORATIO, CLEOMENES, and FULVIA. 
 
 CLEOMENES. 
 
 Always in hafte, Horatio ? 
 
 Hor. I mull beg of you to excufe me, I am obliged to go. 
 
 Geo. Whether you have other enagements than you uied 
 to have, or whether your temper is changed, I cannot tell, 
 but fomething has made an alteration in you, of which I 
 cannot comprehend the caufe. There is no man in the 
 world whofe friendfhip I value more than I do yours, or 
 whole company I like better, yet I can never have it. I pro- 
 fefs I have thought fometimes that you have avoided me on 
 purpofe. 
 
 Hor. I am forry, Cleomenes, I mould have been wanting 
 incivility to you; I come every week conftantly to pay my 
 reipects to you, and if ever I fail, I always fend to inquire 
 after your health. 
 
 Geo. No man outdoes Horatio in civility ; but I thought 
 fomething more was due to our affections and long acquaint- 
 ance, beiides compliments and ceremony : Of late I have 
 never been to wait upon you, but you are gone abroad, or I 
 find you engaged; and when I have the honour to fee you 
 here, your ftay is only momentary. Pray pardon my rude- 
 nefs for once : What is it that hinders you now from keep- 
 ing me company for an hour or two ? My coufm talks of 
 going out, and I mail be all alone. 
 
 Hor. I know better than to rob you of fuch an opportu- 
 nity for fpeculation ? 
 
 Geo. Speculation ! on what, pray ? 
 
 Hor. That vilenefs of our fpecies in the refined way of 
 
 thinking you have of late been fo fond of, I call it the 
 
 fcheme of deformity, the partifans of which iludy chiefly 
 
 to make every thing in our nature appear as ugly and con- 
 
 T 4 
 
S86 THE FIRST DIALOGUE*. 
 
 temptible as it is poflible, and take uncommon pains to per- 
 fuade men that they are devils. 
 
 Cleo, If that be all, I mail foon convince you. 
 Hor. No conviction to me, I befeech you : I am deter- 
 mined, and fully perfuaded, that there is good in the world 
 as well as evil ; and that the words, honefty, benevolence, 
 and humanity, and even charity, are not empty founds only, 
 but that there are fuch things in fpite of the Fable of the 
 Bees ; and I am refolved to believe, that, notwithflanding 
 the degeneracy of mankind, and the wickedneis of the age, 
 there are men now living, who are actually poiieiied of thofe 
 f virtues. 
 
 Cleo. But you do not know what I am going to fay : I 
 am— — 
 
 Hor. That may be, but I will not hear one word ; all you 
 can fay is loll upon me, and if you will not give me leave to 
 fpeak out, I am gone this moment. That curled book has 
 bewitched you, and made you deny the exiitence of thofe 
 very virtues that had gained you the efleem of your friends. 
 You know this is not my ufual language ; I hate to fay harm 
 things : But what regard can, or ought one to have for an 
 author that treats every body de haut en has, makes a jeft of 
 virtue and honour, calls Alexander the Great a madman, and 
 fpares kings and princes no more than any one, would the 
 moll abject of the people ? The bufmefs of his philofophy is 
 jufl the reverfe to that of the herald's office ; for, as there 
 they are always contriving and rinding out high and illuitri- 
 ous pedigrees for low and obfcure people, fo your author is 
 ever fearching after, and inventing mean contemptible ori- 
 gins for worthy and honourable actions. I am your very 
 humble fervant.. 
 
 Cleo. Stay. I am of your opinion ; w r hat I offered to con- 
 vince yon of, was, how entirely I am recovered of the folly 
 which you have fo juftly expofed : I have left that error. 
 
 Hor. Are you in earned ? 
 
 Cleo. No man more : There is no greater (tickler for the 
 focial virtues than myfelf; and 1 much queftion, whether 
 there is any of Lord Shaftfbury's admirers that will go my 
 lengths ! 
 
 Hor. I fhall be glad to fee you go my lengths firlt, and as 
 many more as you pleafe. You cannot conceive, Cleo- 
 menes, how it has grieved me, when I have feen how many 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. !%t 
 
 enemies you made yourfelf by that extravagant way of ar- 
 guing. If you are but ferious, whence comes this change? 
 Cieo. In the firft place, I grew weary of having every body 
 againft me: and, in the fecond, there is more room for inven- 
 tion in the other fyftem. Poets and orators in the focial 
 fyftem have fine opportunities of exerting themfelves. 
 
 Hor. I very much fufpedl the recovery you boaft of: Are 
 you convinced, that the other fyftem was falfe, which you 
 might have eaiily learned from feeing every body againfi: 
 you ? 
 
 Cieo. Falfe to be fure ; but what you allege is no proof of 
 it : for if the greater! part of mankind were not againft that 
 fcheme of deformity, as youjuilly call it, iniincerity could 
 not be fo general, as the fcheme itfelf fuppofes it to be : But 
 flnce my eyes have been opened, I have found out that truth. 
 and probability are the nllieft things in the world ; they are 
 of no manner of ufe, efpecially among the people de ban gout. 
 Hor. I thought what a convert you was : but what new 
 madnefs has feized you now ? 
 
 Cieo. No madnefs at all : I fay, and will maintain it to the 
 world, that truth, in the fublime, is very impertinent ; and 
 that in the arts and fciences, fit for men of tafte to look into, 
 a mailer cannot commit a more unpardonable fault, than 
 flicking to, or being influenced by truth, where it interferes 
 with what is agreeable. 
 
 Hor. Homely truths indeed 
 
 Cieo. Look upon that Dutch piece of the nativity : what 
 charming colouring there is ! What a fine pencil, and how 
 jufl are the outlines for a piece fo curiouily finifhed ! But 
 what a fool the fellow was to draw hay, and ftraw, and wa- 
 ter, and a rack as well as a manger: it is a wonder he did 
 not put the bambino into the manger. 
 
 Ful. The bambino ? That is the child, I fuppofe : why it 
 fhould be in the manger; fhould it not? Does not the hif- 
 tory tell us, that the child was laid in the manger ? I have 
 no fkill in painting ; but I can fee whether things are drawn 
 to the life or not : fure nothing can be more like the head 
 of an ox than that there. A piclure then pleafes me bell 
 when the art in fuch a manner deceives my eye, that, with- 
 out making any allowance, I can imagine I fee the things in 
 reality which the painter has endeavoured to reprefent. I 
 have always thought it an admirable piece \ fure nothing ia 
 the world can be more like nature. 
 
2$2 THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. Like nature ! So much the worfe : Indeed, coufin, 
 it is ealily feen, that you have no fkillm painting. It is not 
 nature, but agreeable nature, la belle nature^ that is to be 
 reprefented: all things that are abject, low, pitiful, and mean, 
 are carefully to be avoided, and kept out of fight; becaufe, 
 to men of the true tafte, they are as orTenfive as things that 
 are mocking, and really nafty. 
 
 Ful. At that rate, the Virgin Mary's condition, and our 
 - Saviour's birth, are never to be painted. 
 
 Cleo. That is your miftake ; the fubject itfelf is noble : 
 Let us go but in the next room, and I will fhow you the 
 
 difference Look upon that picture, which is the fame 
 
 hiftory. There is fine architecture, there is a colonnade ; 
 can any thing be thought of more magnificent ? Row lkil- 
 f ully is that afs removed, and how little you fee of the ox : 
 pray, mind the obfcurity they are both placed in. It hangs 
 in a ftrong light, or elfe one might look ten times upon the 
 picture without obferving them : Behold thefe pillars of the 
 Corinthian order, how lofty they are, and what an effect they 
 have, what a noble fpace, what an area here is ! How nobly 
 every thing concurs to exprefs the majeftic grandeur of the 
 fubjecl, and ftrikes the foul with awe and admiration at the 
 fame time ! 
 
 Ful. Pray coufin, has good fenfe ever any fhare in the 
 judgment which your men of true tafte form about pictures? 
 
 Hor. Madam! 
 
 Ful. I beg pardon, Sir, if I have offended : but to me it 
 feems ftrange to hear fuch commendations given to a paint- 
 er, for turning the liable of a country inn into a palace of 
 extraordinary magnificence : This is a great deal worfe than 
 Swift's Metamorphofis of Philemon and Baucis; for there 
 fome fhow of refemblance is kept in the changes. 
 
 Hor. In a country liable, Madam, there is nothing but 
 filth and naftinefs, or vile abject things not fit to be feen, 
 at leaf! not capable of entertaining perfons of quality. 
 
 Ful. The Dutch pi6ture in the next room has nothing that 
 is offenfive : but an Augean ftable, even before Hercules 
 had cleaned it, would be lefs mocking to me than thofe flu- 
 ted pillars ; for nobody can pleafe my eye that affronts my 
 nnderftandmg : When I defire a man to paint a considerable 
 hiltory, which every body knows to have been transacted at 
 a country inn, docs he not ftrangely impofe upon me, be- 
 caufe he underftands architecture, to draw me a room that 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 283 
 
 might have ferved for a great hall, or banqueting- houfe, to 
 any Roman emperor ? Befides, that the poor and abjedt 
 ftate in which our Saviour chofe to appear at his coming into 
 the world, is the moll material circumftance of the hiftory : 
 it contains an excellent moral againft vain pomp, and is the 
 ftrongeft periuaiive to humility, which, in the Italian, are 
 more than loft. 
 
 Hor. Indeed, Madam, experience is againft you ; and it 
 is certain, that, even among the vulgar, the reprefentations 
 of mean and abject things, andfuch as they are familiar with, 
 have not that effect, and either breed contempt, or are infig- 
 nificant: whereas vaft piles, ftately buildings, roofs of un- 
 common height, furprifing ornaments, and ail the architec- 
 ture of the grand tafte, are the fitteft to raife devotion, and 
 infpire men with veneration, and a religious awe for the 
 places that have thefe excellencies to boaft of. Is there ever 
 a meeting- houfe or barn to be compared to a fine cathedral, 
 for this purpofe ? 
 
 Ful. I believe there is a mechanical way of railing devotion 
 in filly fuperftitious creatures ; but an attentive contempla- 
 tion on the works of God, I am fure 
 
 Cleo. Pray, couiin, fay no more in defence of your low 
 tafte : The painter has nothing to do with the truth of the 
 hiftory ; his bufinefs is to exprefs the dignity of the fubject, 
 and, in compliment to his judges, never to forget the excel- 
 lency of our fpecies : All his art and good fenfe muft be em- 
 ployed in railing that to the higheft pitch : Great mailers 
 do not paint for the common people, but for perfons of re- 
 fined underftanding : What you complain o£ is the effedt of 
 the good manners and complaifa'nce of the painter. When 
 he had drawn the Infant and the Madona, he thought the 
 leaft glimpfe of the ox and the afs w r ould be fufficient to ac- 
 quaint you with the hiftory : They w 7 ho want more fefcuing, 
 and a broader explanation, he does not defire his picture 
 fhould ever be mown to ; for the reft, he entertains you with 
 nothing but what is noble and worthy your attention : You 
 fee he is an architect, and completely fkilled in perfpedtive, 
 and he fhows you how finely lie can round a pillar, and that 
 both the depth, and the height of a fpace, may be drawn 
 on a fiat, w 7 ith ail the other wonders he performs by his fkill 
 in that inconceivable myftery of light and fhadows. 
 ^ Ful. Why then is it pretended that painting is an imita- 
 tion of nature ? 
 
t$4 THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. At firft fetting out a fcholar is to copy things exactly 
 as he fees them ; but from a great mailer, when he is left to 
 his own invention, it is expected he ihould take the perfec- 
 tions of nature, and not paint it as it is, but as we would wifh 
 it to be. Zeuxis, to draw a goddefs, took five beautiful wo- 
 men, from which he culled what was moft graceful in each. 
 
 FuL Still every grace he painted was taken from nature. 
 
 Cleo. That's true; but he left nature her rubbifh, and 
 imitated nothing but what was excellent, which made the 
 afiemblage fuperior to any thing in nature. Demetrius was 
 taxed for being tGO natural ; Dionyfus was alfo blamed for 
 drawing men like us. Nearer our times, Michael Angelo 
 was eiteemed too natural, and Lyfippus of old upbraided the 
 common fort of fculptors for making men fuch as they were 
 found in nature. 
 
 FuL Are thefe things real ? 
 
 Cleo. You may read it yourfelf in Graham's Preface to 
 The Art of Painting: the book is above in the library. 
 
 Hot. Thefe things may feem ftrange to you, Madam, but 
 they are of immenfe ufe to the public : the higher w 7 e can 
 carry the excellency of our fpecies, the more thole beautiful 
 images will fill noble minds with worthy and fuitable ideas 
 of their own dignity, that will feldom fail of fpurring them 
 on to virtue and heroic actions. There is a grandeur to be 
 expreiTed in things that far furpaffes the beauties of fimple 
 nature. You take delight in operas, Madam, I do not quef- 
 tion; you mult have minded the noble manner and itateli- 
 nefs beyond nature, which every thing there is executed 
 with. What gentle touches, what flight and yet majeitic 
 motions are made ufe of to exprefs the moft boifterous paf- 
 fions ! As the fubject is always lofty, fo no pofture is to be 
 chofen but what is ferious and figntficant, as well as comely 
 and agreeable ; Ihould the actions there be reprefented as 
 they are in common life, they would ruin the fublime, and 
 at once rob you of all your pleafure. 
 
 FuL I never expected any thing natural at an opera ; but 
 as perfons of diftinction refort thither, and every body comes 
 dreifed, it is a fort of employment, and I feldom mifs a night, 
 becaufe it is the fafhion to go : befides, the royal family, 
 and the monarch himfelf, generally honouring them with 
 their prefence, it is aim oft become a duty to attend them, as 
 much as it is to go to court. What diverts me there is the 
 company, the lights, the mufic, the fcenes, and other decora- 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 285 
 
 tions : but as I underdand but very few words of Italian, fo 
 what is mod admired in the recitatim is loft upon me, which 
 makes the acting part to me rather ridiculous than 
 
 Hor. Ridiculous, Madam ! For Heaven's fake 
 
 Ful. I beg pardon, Sir, for the expreffion, I never laughed 
 at an opera in my life ; but I confefs, as to the entertainment 
 itfelf, that a good play is infinitely more diverting to me ; 
 and I prefer any thing that informs my underdanding be- 
 yond all the recreations which either my eyes or my ears can 
 be regaled with, 
 
 Hor. I am forry to hear a lady of your good fenfe make 
 fuch a choice. Have you no tafte for mufic, Madam ? 
 
 Ful. I named that as part of my diverfion. 
 
 C/eo. My coufin plays very well upon the harpfichord her- 
 felf. 
 
 Ful. I love to hear good mufic ; but it does not throw me 
 into thofe raptures, I hear others fpeak of. 
 
 Hor, Nothing certainly can elevate the mind beyond a 
 fine concert : it feems to difengage the foul from the body, 
 and lift it up to heaven. It is in this fituation, that we are 
 moft capable of receiving extraordinary impreffions : when 
 the indruments ceafe, our temper is fuhdued, and beautiful 
 action joins with the fkilful voice, in fettirig before us in a 
 tranfcendent light, the heroic labours we are come to admire, 
 and which the word Opera imports. The powerful harmony 
 between the engaging founds and fpeaking geilures invades 
 he heart, and forcibly infpires us with thofe noble fentiments, 
 which to entertain, the mod expreffive words can only at- 
 tempt to perfuade us. Few comedies are tolerable, and in the 
 bell of them, if the levity of the exprefilons does not corrupt, 
 the meannefs of the fubject mud debafe the manners ; at lead 
 to perfons of quality. In tragedies the fty le is more fublime 
 and the fubjects generally great ; but all violent paffions, and 
 even the reprefentations of them, ruffle and difcompofe the 
 mind : befides, when men endeavour to exprefs things ftrong- 
 ly, and they are acted to the life, it often happens that the 
 images do mifchief, becaufe they are too moving, and that 
 the action is faulty for being too natural; and experience 
 teaches us, that in unguarded minds, by thofe pathetic per- 
 formances, flames are often railed that are prejudicial to vir- 
 tue. The playhoufes themfelves are far from being inviting, 
 much lefs the companies, at lead the greated part of them 
 that frecjuent them, fome of which are almod of the lowed 
 
286 THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 rank of all. The difguft that perfons of the leaft elegance 
 receive from thefe people are many ; beiides, the ill fcents, 
 and unfeemgiy fights one meets with, of carelefs rakes and 
 impudent wenches, that, having paid their money, reckon 
 themfelves to be all upon the level with every body there; 
 the oaths, fcurrilities, and vile jefts one is often obliged to 
 hear, without refenting them ; and the odd mixture of high- 
 and low that are all partaking of the fame diverfion, without 
 regard to drefs or quality, are all very offeniive ; and it can- 
 not but be very difagreeable to polite people to be in the 
 fame crowd with a variety of perfons, fome of them below 
 mediocrity, that pay no deference to one another. At the 
 opera, every thing charms and concurs to make happinefs 
 complete. The fweetnefs of voice, in the firft place, and the 
 folemn compofure of the action, ferve to mitigate and allay 
 every paffion ; it is the genclenefs of them, and the calm fe- 
 renity of the mind, that make us amiable, and bring us the 
 nearer! to the perfection of angels ; whereas, the violence of 
 the paflions, in which the corruption of the heart chiefly con- 
 lifls, dethrones our reafon, and renders us more like unto fa- 
 vages. It is incredible, how prone we are to imitation, and 
 how ftrangely, unknown to ourfelves, we are fhaped and 
 falhioned after the models and examples that are often let 
 before us. No anger nor jealoufy are ever , to-be feen at an 
 opera, that diflort the features ; no flames that are noxious, 
 nor is any love reprefented in them, that is not pure and 
 next to feraphic ; and it is impoilible for the remembrance 
 to carry any thing away from them, that can fully the ima- 
 gination. Secondly, the company is of another fort : the 
 place itfelf is a fecurity to peace, as well as every one's ho- 
 nour ; and it is impoilible to name another, where blooming 
 innocence and irrefiflible beauty Hand in fo little need of 
 guardians. Here we are fure never to meet with petulancy 
 or ill manners, and to be free from immodeft ribaldry, liber- 
 tine wit, and deteftable fatire. If you will mind, on the one 
 hand, the richnefs and fplendour of drefs, and the quality of 
 the perfons that appear in them ; the variety of colours, and 
 the luflre of the fair in a fpacious theatre, well illuminated 
 and adorned ; and on the other, the grave aeportment of the 
 afTembly, and the confcioufnefs that appears in every coun- 
 tenance, of the refpecl they owe to each other, you will be 
 forced to confefs, that upon earth there cannot be a pattime 
 more agreeable : believe me, Madam, there is no place, 
 
 4 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. I £7 
 
 where both fexes have fuch opportunities of imbibing exalt- 
 ed fentiments, and railing themfelves above the vulgar, as 
 they have at the opera ; and there is no other fort of diver- 
 iion or affembly, from the frequenting of which, young per- 
 fons of quality can have equal hopes of forming their man- 
 ners, and contracting a ftrong and lading habit of virtue. 
 
 Ful. You have faid more in commendation of operas, Ho- 
 ratio, than I ever heard or thought of before ; and I think 
 every body who loves that diverfton is highly obliged to you. 
 The grand gout, I believe, is a great help in panegyric, efpe- 
 cially, where it is an incivility rtrictly to examine and over- 
 curiouily to look into matters. 
 
 Geo. What fay you now, Ful via, of nature and good fenfe, 
 are they not quite beat out of doors ? 
 
 Ful. I have heard nothing yet, to make me out of conceit 
 with good fenfe ; though what you infinuated of nature, as 
 if it was not to be imitated in painting, is an opinion, I mud 
 confefs, which hitherto I more admire at, than I can approve 
 of it. 
 
 Hor. I would never recommend any thing, Madam, that 
 is repugnant to good fenfe ; but Cleomenes mull have fome 
 defign in over-acling the part he pretends to have chofen. 
 What he faid about painting is very true, whether he fpoke 
 it in jell or in earneft ; but he talks fo diametrically oppofite 
 to the opinion which he is known every where to defend of 
 late, that I do not know what to make of him. 
 
 Ful. I am convinced of the narrownefs of my own under- 
 Handing, and am going to vifit fome perfons, with whom I 
 fhall bemore upon the level. 
 
 Hor. You will give me leave to wait upon you to your 
 
 coach, Madam Pray, Cleomenes, what is it you have got 
 
 in your head ? 
 
 Geo. Nothing at all : I told you before, that I was fo en- 
 tirely recovered from my folly, that few people went my 
 lengths. What jealoufy you entertain of me I do not know; 
 but I rind myfelf much improved in the focial fyilem. For- 
 merly I thought, that chief miniflers, and all thofe at the 
 helm of affairs, acted from principles of avarice and ambition; 
 that in all the pains they took, and even in the flaveries they 
 underwent for the public good, they had their private ends, 
 and that they were iupported in the fatigue by fecret enjoy- 
 ments they were unwilling to own. It is not a month ago, 
 that I imagined that the inward care and real folicitude of 
 
2SS THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 all great men centered within themfelves ; and that to en- 
 rich themfelves, acquire titles of honour, and raife their fami- 
 lies on the one hand, and to have opportunities on the other 
 of difplaying a judicious fancy to all the elegant comforts of 
 life, and eftablifhing, without the lead trouble of felf-denial, 
 the reputation of being wife, humane, and munificent, were 
 the things, which, befides the fatisfaclion there is in fuperio- 
 rity and the pleafure of governing, all candidates to high of- 
 fices and great polls propofed to themfelves, from the places 
 they fued for: I was fo narrow minded, that I could not con- 
 ceive how a man would ever voluntarily fubmit to be a llave 
 but to ferve himfelf. But 1 have abandoned that ill-natured 
 way of judging: I plainly perceive the public good, in all 
 the defigns of politicians, the focial virtues mine in every ac- 
 tion, and I find that the national intered is the compafs that 
 all ftatefmen deer by. 
 
 Hor. That is more than I can prove ; but certainly there 
 have been fuch men, there have been patriots, that without 
 felfiih views have taken incredible pains for their country's 
 welfare : nay, there are men now that would do the fame, if 
 they were employed ; and we have had princes that have 
 neglected their eafe and pleafure, and facrificed their quiet, 
 to promote the profperity and increafe the wealth and ho- 
 nour of the kingdom, and had nothing fo much at heart as 
 the happinefs of their fubjedts. 
 
 Cfeo. No difaffedtion, 1 beg of you. The difference be- 
 tween pad and preient times, and perfons in and out of 
 places, is perhaps clearer to you than it is to me ; but it is 
 many years ago, you know, that it has been agreed between 
 us never to enter into party difputes : what I defire your at- 
 tention to, is my reformation, which you feem to doubt of, 
 and the great change that is wrought in me. The religion 
 of mod kings and other high potentates, I formerly had but 
 a flender opinion of, but now I meafure their piety by what 
 they fay of it themfelves to their fubjects. 
 
 Hor. That is very kindly done. 
 
 Cfeo. By thinking meanly of things, I once had ftrange j 
 blundering notions concerning foreign wars : I thought that 
 many of them arofe from trifling cauies, magnified by politi- 
 cians for their own ends ; that the moft ruinous mifunder- 
 ftandings between dates and kingdoms might fpring from 
 the hidden malice, folly, or caprice of one man; that many 
 •f them had been owing to the private quarrels, piques, re- ; 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 289 
 
 fentments, and the haughtinefs of the chief miniflers of the 
 refpedlive nations, that were the fufferers ; and that what is 
 called perfonal hatred between princes feldom was more at 
 firfl, than either an open or fecret animofity which the two 
 great favourites of thofe courts had againfl one another : 
 but now I have learned to derive thofe things from higher 
 caufes. I am reconciled like wife to the luxury of the vo- 
 luptuous, which 1 ufed to be offended at, becaufe now I am 
 convinced that the money of mofl rich men, is laid out with 
 the focial defign of promoting arts and foences, and ti- 
 the moll expenfive undertakings their principal aim is the 
 employment of the poor. 
 
 Hor, Thefe are lengths indeed. 
 
 Cleo. I have a flrong averlion to fatire, and detefl it every 
 whit as much as you do : the moil inilructive writings to 
 underfland the world, and penetrate into the heart of man, I 
 take to be addreffes, epithets, dedications, and above all, the 
 preambles to patents, of which I am making a large collec- 
 leclion. 
 
 Hor. A very ufeful undertaking ! 
 
 Cleo. But to remove all your doubts of my converfion, I 
 will ihow you fome eafy rules I have laid down for young 
 beginners. 
 
 Hor. What to do ? 
 
 Cleo. To judge of mens aclions by the lovely fyflem of 
 Lord Shaftfbury, in a manner diametrically oppofite to that 
 of the Fable of the Bees. 
 
 Hor. I do not underfland you. 
 
 Cleo. You will prefently. I have called them rules, but 
 they are rather examples from which the rules are to be ga- 
 thered : as for inilance, if we fee an induilrious poor woman, 
 who has pinched her belly, and gone in rags for a confider- 
 able time to fave forty millings, part with her money to put 
 out her fon at fix years of age to a chimney-fweeper ; to 
 judge of her charitably, according to the fyflem of the focial 
 virtues, we mufl imagine, that though fhe never paid for the 
 fweeping of a chimney in her life, me knows by experience, 
 that for want of this neceiTary cleanlinefs the broth has been 
 otcen fpoiled, and many a chimney has been fet on tire, and 
 therefore to do good in her generation, as far as fhe is able, 
 flie gives up her all, both offspring and eflate, to afiifl in pre- 
 venting the feveral mifchiefs that are often ocean oned by 
 great quantities of foot difregarded : and, free from feldih- 
 
 U 
 
29O THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 nefs, facrifices her only fon to the moll wretched employ- 
 ment for the public welfare. 
 
 Hor. You do not vie I fee with Lord Shaftlbury, for lofti- 
 nefs of fubjects. 
 
 CJeo. When in a flatty night with amazement we behold 
 the glory of the firmament, nothing is more obvious than 
 that the whole, the beautiful all, mufl be the workmanfhip 
 of one great Architect of power and wifdom ftupendous ; and 
 it is as evident, that every thing in the univerfe is a confti- 
 tuent part of one entire fabric. 
 
 Hor. Would you make a jell of this too. 
 
 Cleo. Far from it : they are awful truths, of which I am 
 as much convinced as I am of my own exiflence ; but I was 
 going to name the confequences, which Lord Shaftfbury 
 draws from them, in order to demonllrate to you, that I am 
 a convert, and a very punctual obferver of his Lordlhip's in- 
 itruclions, and that, in my judgment. on the poor woman's 
 conduct, there is nothing that is not entirely agreeable to the 
 generous way of thinking fet forth and recommended in the 
 Characteriilics. 
 
 Hor. Is it pofiible a man mould read fuch a book, and 
 make no better ufe of it 1 I delire you would name the con- 
 fequences you fpeak of. 
 
 Cleo. As that infinity of luminous bodies, however dif- 
 ferent in magnitude, velocity, and the figures they defcribe 
 in their courfes, concur all of them to make up the univerfe, 
 fo this little fpot we inhabit is likewife a compound of air, 
 water, fire, minerals, vegetables, and living creatures, which, 
 though vaftly differing from one another in their nature, do 
 altogether make up the body of this terraqueous globe. 
 
 Hor, This is very right, and in the fame manner as our whole 
 ipecies is compofed of many nations of different religions, 
 forms of government, interelts and manners that divide and 
 fliare the earth betweea them; fo the civil fociety in every 
 nation confifls in great multitudes of both fexes, that widely 
 differing from each otner in age, conltitution, itrength, tem- 
 per, wifdom and polieiiions, all help to make up one body 
 politic. 
 
 Geo. The fame exactly which I would have faid : now, 
 pray Sir, is not the great end of men's forming themfelves into 
 fuch focieties, mutual happinefs ; I mean, do not all indivi- 
 dual perfons, from being thus combined, propofe to them- 
 felves a more comfortable condition of life, than human crea- 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 29 1 
 
 tures, if they were to live like other wild animals, without tie 
 or dependence, could enjoy in a free and favage ftate ? 
 
 Hor. This certainly is not only the end, but the end which 
 is every where attained to by government and fociety, in 
 fome degree or other, 
 
 Cleo. Hence it rauft follow, that it is always wrong for men 
 to purfue gain or pleafure, by means that are viflbly detri- 
 mental to the civil fociety, and that creatures who can do 
 this muft be narrow -fouled, fhort- lighted, felfifh people; 
 whereas, wife men never look upon themfelves as individual 
 perfons, without confidering the whole of which they are 
 but trifling parts. in refped: to bulk, and are incapable of re- 
 ceiving any fatisfaction from things that interfere with the 
 public welfare. This being undeniably true, ought not all 
 private advantage to give • way to this general intereft ; and 
 ought it not to be every one's endeavour, to increafe this 
 common flock of happinefs ; and, in order to it, do what he 
 can to render himfelf a ferviceable and ufeful member of 
 that whole body which he belongs to? 
 
 Hor. What of all this ? 
 
 Cleo. Has not my poor woman, in what I have related 
 of her, acted in conformity to this focial fyfcem ? 
 
 Hor. Can any one in his fen fes imagine, that an indigent 
 thoughtlefs wretch, without fenfe or education, ihould ever 
 act from fuch generous principles ? 
 
 Cleo. Poor I told you the woman was, and I will not infill 
 upon her education; but as for her being thoughtlefs and 
 void of fenfe, you will give me leave to fay, that it is an af- 
 perlion for which you have no manner of foundation ; and 
 from the account I have given of her, nothing can be gather- 
 ed but that fhe was a conliderate, virtuous, wife woman, in 
 poverty. 
 
 Hor. I fuppofe you would perfuade me that you are in 
 earneft. 
 
 Cleo. I am much more fo than you imagine ; and fay oncQ 
 more, that, in the example I have given, 1 have trod exact- 
 ly in my Lord Shaftfbury's fteps, and clofely followed the 
 focial fyitem. If I have committed any error, fhow it me. 
 
 Hor. Did that author ever meddle with any thing fo low 
 and pitiful. 
 
 Cleo. There can be nothing mean in noble actions, who. 
 ever the perfons are that perform them. But if the vulgar 
 
 U 2 
 
2Q2 THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 are to be all excluded from the focial virtues, what rule or 
 inltruclion mall the labouring poor, which are by far the 
 greater! part of the nation, have left them to walk by, when 
 the Characteriiiics have made a jeft of all revealed religion, 
 efpecially the Chriftian? but if you defpife the poor and 
 illiterate, I can, in the fame method, judge of men in higher 
 ilations. Let the enemies to the focial fyftem behold the 
 venerable counfellor, now grown eminent for his wealth, 
 that at his great age continues fweltering at the bar to plead 
 the doubtful caufe, and, regardlefs of his dinner, fhorten his 
 own life in endeavouring to fecure the poffemons of others. 
 How confpicuous is the benevolence of the phyfician to his 
 kind, who, from morning till night, vifiting the lick, keeps 
 ieveral fets of horfes to be more ferviceable to many, and 
 frill grudges himfelf the time for the necetTary funftions of 
 lite ! In the fame manner the indefatigable clergyman, who, 
 with his minifiry, fupplies a very large parifh already, fo- 
 licits with zeal to be as ufeful and beneficent to another, 
 though fifty of his order, yet unemployed, offer their fervice 
 for the fame purpofe. 
 
 Hor. I perceive your drift : from the flrained panegyrics 
 you labour at, you would form arguments ad abfurdum : 
 the banter is ingenious enough, and, at proper times, might 
 f erve to raife a laugh ; but then you mult own likewife, that 
 thofe fludied encomiums will not bear to be feriouiTy ex- 
 amined into. When we confider that the great bufinefs 
 as well as perpetual folicitude of the poor, are to fupply their 
 immediate wants, and keep themfelves from flarving, and 
 that their children are a burden to them, which they 
 groan under, and deli re to be delivered from by all poffible 
 means, that are not clafhing with the low involuntary affec- 
 tion which nature forces them to have for their offspring : 
 when, I fay, we confider this, the virtues of your induftrious 
 make no great figure. The public fpirit likewife, and the 
 generous principles, your fagacity has found out in the three 
 faculties, to which men are brought up for a livelihood, feem 
 to be very far fetched. Fame, wealth, and greatnefs, every 
 age can witnefs ; but whatever labour or fatigue they fubmit 
 to, the motives of their actions are as confpicuous as their 
 calling themfelves. 
 
 Ceo. Are they not beneficial to mankind, and of ufe to 
 the public ? 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 293 
 
 Hor. I do not deny that ; we often receive ineftimable 
 benefits from them, and the good ones in either profeffion 
 are not only ufeful, but very neceffary to the fociety : but 
 though there are feveral that facrifice their whole lives, and 
 all the comforts of them, to their bufinefs, there is not one 
 of them that would take a quarter of the pains he now is at, 
 if, without taking any, he could acquire the fame money, 
 reputation, and other advantages that may accrue to him 
 from the efteem or gratitude of thofe whom he has been fer- 
 viceable to; and I do not believe, there is an eminent man 
 among them that would not own this if the quefticn was put 
 to him. Therefore, when ambition and the love of money 
 are avowed principles men act from, it is very filly to afcribe 
 virtues to them, which they themfelves pretend to lay no 
 manner of claim to, But your encomium upon the parfon 
 is the merrieft jeft of all : I have heard many excufes made, 
 #nd fome of them very frivolous, for the covetoufnefs of 
 priefls; but what you have picked out in their praife 
 is more extraordinary than any thing I ever met with ; and 
 the moll partial advocate and admirer of the clergy never 
 yet difcovered before yourfelf a great virtue in their hunting 
 after pluralities, when they were well provided for themfelves, 
 and many others for want of employ were ready to ftarve. 
 
 Geo. But if there be any reality in the focial fyftem, it 
 would be better for the public, if men, in all profeflions, 
 were to act from thofe generous principles ; and you will 
 allow, that the fociety would be the gainers, if the genera- 
 lity in the three faculties would mind others more, and them- 
 felves lefs than they do now. 
 
 Hor. I do not know that ; and confidering what ilavery 
 fome lawyers, as well as phyficians, undergo, I much ques- 
 tion whether it would be poffible for them to exert them- 
 felves in the fame manner though they would, if the con- 
 usant baits and refreshments of large fees did not help to fup- 
 port human nature, by continually flimulating this darling 
 paflion. 
 
 Geo. Indeed, Horatio, this is a ftronger argument againfl 
 the focial fyftem, and more injurious to it than any thing 
 that has been faid by the author whom you have exclaimed 
 againft with fo much bitternefs. 
 
 Hor. I deny that : I do not conclude from the feliifhnefs 
 in fome, that there is no virtue in others. 
 
 V.j 
 
294 THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cko. Nor he neither, and you very much wrong him if 
 you aiTert that he ever did. 
 
 Hor. I refufe to commend what is not praife - worthy ; 
 but as bad as mankind are, virtue has an exidence as well 
 as vice, though it is more fcarce. 
 
 Cko. What youfaid lad, nobody ever contradicted ; but I 
 do not know what you would be at : does not the Lord 
 Shafribury endeavour to do good, and promote the focial 
 virtues, and am I not doing the very fame ? fuppofe me to 
 be in the wrong in the favourable conitruciions I have made 
 of things, Hill it is to be wifhed for at lead, that men had a 
 greater regard to the public welfare, lefs fondnefs for their 
 private intered, and more charity for their neighbours, than 
 the generality of them have. 
 
 Hor. To be wifhed for, perhaps, it may be, but what pro- 
 bability is there that this ever will come to pafs ? 
 
 Cko. And unlefs that can come to pafs, it is the idled 
 thing in the world to difcourfe upon, and demonftrate the 
 excellency of virtue ; what fignifies it to fet forth the beauty 
 of it, unlefs it was poffible that men mould fall in love with 
 it? 
 
 Hor. If virtue was never recommended, men might grow 
 worfe than they are. 
 
 Cko. Then, by the fame reafon, if it was recommended 
 more, men might grow better than they are. But I fee per- 
 fectly well the reafon of thefe drifts and evadons you make 
 life of againit your opinion : "You find yourfelf under a ne- 
 ceffity of allowing my panegyrics, as you call them, to be 
 juft ; or finding the fame fault with mod of my Lord Shafts- 
 bury's ; and you would do neither if you could help it : 
 From mens preferring company to fohtude, his Lordfhip pre- 
 tends to prove the love and natural arTeclion we have for 
 our own fpecies : If this was examined into with the fame 
 ftridtnefs as you have done every thing 1 have faid in behalf of 
 the three faculties, I believe that thefolidity of the confequen- 
 ces would be pretty equal in both. But 1 dick to my text, 
 and dand up for the focial virtues : The noble author of that 
 fydem had a mod charitable opinion of his fpecies, and ex- 
 tolled the dignity of it in an extraordinary manner, and why 
 my imitation of him mould be called a banter, I fee no rea- 
 fon. He certainly wrote with a good deiign, and endea- 
 voured to inipire his readers with refined notions, and a pub- 
 lic fpirit abllract from religion : The world enjoys the fruits 
 
« THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 2$$ 
 
 as labours: but the advantage that i iedfiom 
 
 his writings, can never be lb universally felt, before that pub- 
 lic ipirir, which he recommended, comes down to the mean- 
 eft tradefmen, whom you would endeavour to exclude from 
 the generous fentiments and noble pleasures that are already 
 fo vifible in many. I am now thinking on two forts or 
 people that ttand very much in need of, and yet hardly 
 ever meet with one another : This one mint have 
 
 ed fuch a chafin :n the band of fociety, that no der : 
 eht, or happineis of con:::vance. could have filled up 
 the vacuity, if a moft tender regard for che commonwe 
 and the height :f benevc Lence did not influence u r 
 t tners, mere grangers to thole people, and commonly men 
 of fmall education, to affift them with theii ■ and 
 
 up the gap. Many ingenious workmen, tn 
 dwellings, would be starved in fpite ci a 
 want of knowing where to fell the p. 
 if there were net ethers to difpofe of it for diem A 
 the rich and extravagant are daily furnuihed wit unite 
 
 :y of fuperfiuous knicknacks and elaborate tnrles. every 
 : f them invented to gratify either a nee dl :-_ : ai - &ty, or 
 elfe vrantonnefs and folly ; and which they could never have 
 
 rht of, mu 1 :i: :-y aever feen or kn 
 
 where to iie public, 
 
 u. who lays out a confiden te to 
 
 le delires of thefe - :-s of peof 
 
 He p ] :or. and 
 
 fearches with great dihgence after the moft 
 
 no man (hall be able to produce better 
 than himfe h iludied civil rue- 
 
 nance, he entertains the greateft ftran 
 
 He 
 : ues no: his a::enda::ce to a f 
 ieifure all day long in an open fhop, where he bears the 
 fummer's heat, and win 
 
 ..: a beautiful profpecl is here of natural affection to our 
 kind! For, if he a u that pr;. no only fur- 
 
 :eflaries o: more 
 
 native love and indulgence to his will not 
 
 .1 of it to : : e of what 
 
 ry. 
 Hor. You have made the moft of it indeed, but are ) 
 jiot tired T fooleries t 
 
 p 1 
 
agG THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. What fault do you find with thefe kind contrac- 
 tions ; do they detract from the dignity of our fpecies ? 
 
 Hor. I admire your invention, and thus much 1 will own, 
 that, by overacting the part in that extravagant manner, you 
 have fet the focial fyftem in a more difadvantageous light 
 than ever I had considered it before : But the bell things, 
 you know, may be ridiculed. 
 
 Cko. Whether I know that or not, Lord Shaftfbury has 
 flatly denied it ; and takes joke and banter to be the beft 
 and fureft touchflone to prove the worth of things : It is his 
 opinion, that no ridicule can be fattened upon what is 
 really great and good. His Lordfhip has made ufe of that 
 teft to try the Scriptures and the Chriftian religion by, and 
 expofed them becaufe it feems they could not ftand it. 
 
 Hor. He has expofed fuperftition, and the miferable notions 
 the vulgar were taught to have of God ; but no man ever 
 had more fublime ideas of the Supreme Being, and the uni- 
 verle, than himielf. 
 
 Cko. You are convinced, that what I charge him with is 
 true 
 
 Hor. I do not pretend to defend every fy 11 able that noble 
 Lord has wrote. His flyle is engaging, his language is po- 
 lite, his reafoning ftrong ; many of his thoughts are beauti- 
 fully expreffed, and his images, for the greater! part, inimi- 
 tably fine. 1 may be pleafed with an author, without obli- 
 ging myfelf to anfwer every cavil that fiiall be made againft. 
 him. As to what you call your imitation of him, I have no 
 taite in burlefque : but the laugh you would raife might be 
 turned upon you with lefs trouble than you feem to have ta- 
 ken. Pray, when you confider the hard and dirty labours 
 that are performed to fupply the mob with the vafl quanti- 
 ties of ftrong beer they fwill, do not you difcover focial vir- 
 tue in a drayman ? 
 
 Cleo. Yes, and in a dray-horfe too ; at lead as well as I 
 can m fome great men, who yet would be very angry fhould 
 we refufe to believe, that the moil ielrilh actions of theirs, 
 if the fociety received but the leaft benefit from them, were 
 chiefly owing to principles of virtue, and a generous regard 
 to the public. Do you believe that, in the choice of a Pope, 
 the greater! dependence of the Cardinals, and what they prin- 
 cipally rely upon, is the influence of the Holy Ghoft? 
 
 Hor. No more than I do tranfubitantiation. 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 297 
 
 Geo. But if you had been brought up a Roman Catholic, 
 you would believe both. 
 
 Hor. I do not know that. 
 
 Geo. You would, if you was fincere in your religion, a? 
 thoufands of them are, that are no more deftitute of reafon 
 and good fenfe than you or I. 
 
 Hor. I have nothing to fay as to that : there are many 
 things incomprehenfible, that yet are certainly true : Thefe 
 are properly the objects of faith ; and, therefore, when mat- 
 ters are above my capacity, and really furpafs my under- 
 ftanding, I am filent, and fubmit with great humility : but I 
 will fwallow nothing which I plainly apprehend to be con- 
 trary to my reafon, and is directly claihing with my fenfes. 
 
 Geo. If you believe a Providence, what demonftration can 
 you have, that God does not direct men in an affair of higher 
 importance to all Chriftendom, than any otheryou can name? 
 
 Hor. This is an enfnaring, and a very unfair queiiion. 
 Providence fuperintends and governs every thing without 
 exception. To defend my negative, and give a reafon for 
 my unbelief, it is fufficient, if I prove, that all the inftru- 
 ments, and the means they make ufe of in thofe elections, 
 are vifibly human and mundane, and many of them unwar- 
 rantable and wicked. 
 
 Geo. Not all the means ; becaufe every day they have 
 prayers, and folemnly invoke the Divine aftiftance. 
 
 Hor. But what ftrefs they lay upon it may be eafily ga- 
 thered from the reft of their behaviour. The court of Rome 
 is, without difpute, the greater! academy of refined politics, 
 and the bed fchool to learn the art of caballing : there ordi- 
 nary cunning, and known ftratagems, are counted rufcicity, 
 and deligns are purfued through all the mazes of human fub- 
 tlety. Genius there muft give way to frnefTe, as ftrength does 
 to art in wreftiing ; and a certain fkill fome men have in 
 concealing their cajDacities from others, is of far greater ufe 
 with them, than real knowledge, or the foundefl underitand- 
 ing. In the facred college, where every thing is auro venule ', 
 truth and juftice bear the loweft price : Cardinal Palavicini, 
 and other jefuits, that have been the ftanch advocates of the 
 Papal authority, have owned with orientation the Polltia re- 
 Ugiofa della chiefd, and not hid from us the virtues and ac- 
 complimments, that were only valuable among the Purpu- 
 rati, in whoie judgment over- reaching, at any rate, is the 
 higheft honour, and to be outwitted, though by the bafeft 
 
%$% T HE FIRST DIALOGUE." 
 
 artifice, the greater! fhame. In conclaves, more efpecially, 
 nothing is carried on without tricks and intrigue; and in 
 them the heart of man is fo deep, and fo dark an abyfs, that 
 the fineft air of diillmulation is fometimes found to have been 
 kifincere, and men often deceive one another, by counter- 
 feiting hypocrify. And is it credible, that holinefs, religion, 
 or the leaft concern for fpirituals, mould have any fhare in 
 the plots, machinations, brigues, and contrivances of a focie- 
 ty, of which each member, belides the gratification of his 
 own pafiions, has nothing at heart but the interefl of his par- 
 ty, right or wrong, and to diftrefs every faction that oppofes 
 
 it? 
 
 Cleo. Thefe fentiments confirm to me what I have often 
 heard, that renegadoes are the mofl cruel enemies. 
 
 Hor. Was ever I a Roman Catholic ?. 
 
 Cleo. I mean from the focial fyitem, of which you have 
 been the moil: ftrenuous aflertor ; and now no man can judge 
 of actions more feverely, and indeed lefs charitably, than 
 yourfelf, efpecially of the poor cardinals. I little thought, if 
 once I quitted the fcheme of deformity, to have found an 
 adverfary in you ; but we have both changed fides it feems. 
 
 Hor. Much alike, I believe. 
 
 Cleo. Nay, what could any body think to hear me making 
 the kinder! interpretations of things that can be imagined, 
 and yourfelf doing quite the reverfe? 
 
 Hor. What ignorant people, that knew neither of us, 
 might have done, I do not know : but it has been very ma- 
 nifeft from our difcourfe, that you have maintained your 
 caufe, by endeavouring to fhow the abfurdity of the contra- 
 ry fide, and that I have defended mine by letting you fee, 
 that we were not fuch fools as you would reprefent us to be. 
 I had taken a refolution never to engage with you on this 
 topic, but you fee I have broke it: I hate to be thought un- 
 civil ; it was mere complaifance drew me in > though I am 
 not forry that we talked of it fo much as we did, becaufe I 
 found your opinion lefs dangerous than 1 imagined : you 
 have owned the exiitence of virtue, and that there are men 
 who act from it as a principle, both which I thought you 
 denied : but \ would not have you flatter yourfelf that you 
 deceived me, by hanging out falfe colours. 
 
 Cleo. I did not lay on the difguife fo thick, as not to have 
 you fee through it, nor would i ever have difcourfed upon 
 this fubject with any body, who could have been fo eaiily 
 5 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 299 
 
 impofed upon. I know you to be a man of very good fenfe 
 and found judgment ; and it is for that very reafon 1 fo 
 heartily wifh you would miFer me to explain myfelf, and de- 
 monftrate to you, how finall the difference is between us, 
 which you imagine to be fo confiderable: There is not a man 
 in the world, in whofe opinion I would lefs pafs for an ill 
 man than in yours ; but 1 am fo fcrupulouily fearful of of- 
 fending you, that I never dared to touch upon fome points, 
 unlefs you had given me leave. Yield fomething to our 
 friendfhip, and condefcend for once to read the Fable of the 
 Bees for my fake : It is a handfome volume : you love books: 
 I have one extremely well bound ; do; let me, fuffer me to 
 make you a prefent of it. 
 
 Hor. I am no bigot, Cleomenes ; but I am a man of ho- 
 nour, and, you know, of Uriel honour : I cannot endure to 
 hear that ridiculed, and the lead attempt of it chafes my 
 blood : Honour is the flrongeit and nobleft tie of fociety by 
 far, and therefore, believe me, can never be innocently 
 fported with. It is a thing fo folid and awful, as well as fe- 
 rious, that it can at no time become the object of mirth or 
 diveriion ; and it is impoffible for any pleafantry to be fo 
 ingenious, or any jeft fo witty, that I could bear wdth it on 
 that head. Perhaps I am lingular in this, and, if you will, 
 in the wrong ; be that as it will, all I can fay is, Je ne'ente?is 
 pas Raillerie la dejus ; and therefore, no Fable of the Bees 
 for me, if we are to remain friends : I have heard enough of 
 that. 
 
 Geo. Pray, Horatio, can there be honour without juftice? 
 
 Hor. ISJo : Who affirms there can ? 
 
 Cleo. Have you not owned, that you have thought worfe 
 of me, than now you find me to deferve? No men, nor their 
 works, ought to be condemned upon hearfays and bare fur- 
 mifes, much lefs upon the accufations of their enemies, with- 
 out being examined into. 
 
 Hor. There you are in the right : I heartily beg your par- 
 don, and to atone for the wrong I have done you, fay what 
 you pleafe, I will hear it with patience, be it never fo mock- 
 ing ; but 1 beg of you be ferious. 
 
 Cleo. I have nothing to fay to you that is diftafteful, much 
 lefs mocking : all I deiire is, to convince you, that I am nei- 
 ther fo ill-natured nor uncharitable, in my opinion of man- 
 kind, as you take me to be : and that the notions I enter- 
 tain of the worth of things, will not differ much from yours, 
 
$20 THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 when both come to be looked into. Do but conilder what 
 we have been doing: I have endeavoured to fet every thing 
 in the handfomei! light I could think of; you fay, to ridi- 
 cule the focial fyftem ; I own it ; now reflect on your own 
 conduct, which has been to fhow the folly of my ftrained pa- 
 negyrics, and replace things in that natural view, which all 
 juit, knowing men would certainly behold them in. This is 
 very well dene : but it is contrary to 'the fcheme you pre- 
 tended to maintain ; and if you judge of all actions in the 
 fame manner, there is an end of the focial fyftem ; or, at 
 lead, it will be evident, that it is a theory never to be put 
 into practice. You argue for the generality of men, that 
 they are pofTefTed of thefe virtues, but when we come to par- 
 ticulars, you can find none. I have tried you every where : 
 you are as little fatisfled with peribns of the higheit rank, as 
 you are with them of the lower!, and you count it ridiculous 
 to think better of the middling people. Is this otherwife 
 than ftanding up for the goodnefs of a defign, at the fame 
 time you confefs, that it never was, or ever can be executed? 
 What fort of people are they, and where mull we look for 
 them, whom you will own to act from thofe principles of 
 virtue ? 
 
 Hor. x\re there not in all countries men of birth and 
 ample fortune, that would not accept of places, though they 
 were offered, that are generous and beneficent, and mind 
 nothing but what is great and noble ? 
 
 C':o. Yes : But examine their conduct, look into their 
 lives, and fcan their actions with as little indulgence as you 
 did thofe of the cardinals, or the lawyers and phyficians, and 
 then fee what figure their virtues will make bevond thofe of 
 the poor induftrious woman. There is, generally fpeaking, 
 lefs truth in panegyrics, than there is in lathes. When all 
 our fenfes are foothed, when we have no diitemper of body 
 or mind to difturb us, and meet with nothing that is difa- 
 greeable, we are pleafed with our being : it is in this fituation 
 that we are molt apt to mhiake outward appearances for rea- 
 lities, and judge of things more favourably than they de- 
 ferve. Remember, Horatio, how feelingly you fpoke half 
 an hour ago in commendation of operas : Your foul feemed 
 to oe lifted up whilit you was thinking on the many charms 
 you find in them. I have nothing to fay againit the elegan- 
 cy of the diverfion, or the politenefs of thofe that frequenj: 
 them : but I am afraid you loft yourlelf in the contempla- 
 
THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 3OX 
 
 tion of the lovely idea, when you afferted that they were the 
 moil proper means to contract a ttrong and laiting habit of 
 virtue; do you think, that among the fame number of 
 people, there is more real virtue at an opera, than there is at. 
 a bear-garden? 
 
 Hor. What a comparifon ! 
 
 Cko. I am very ferious. 
 
 Hor. The noife of dogs, and bulls, and bears, make a fine 
 harmony ! 
 
 Cko. It is impoffible you fhould miftake me, and you 
 know very well, that it is not the different pleafures of thofe 
 two places I would compare together. The things you men- 
 tioned are the lean: to be complained of: the continual 
 founds of oaths and imprecations, the frequent repetitions of 
 the word lie. and other more filthy expreilions, the loudnefs 
 and diflbnance of many {trained and untuneful voices, are a 
 perfect torment to a delicate ear, The frowfinefs of the 
 place, and the ill fcents of different kinds, are a perpetual 
 nuifance ; but in all mob meetings 
 
 Hor. L' odor at fouffre beaucoup. 
 
 Cko. The entertainment in general is abominable, and all 
 the fenfes fufler. I allow all this. The greafy heads, feme 
 of them bloody, the jarring looks, and threatning, wild, and 
 horrid afpects, that one meets with in thofe ever-reftlefs af- 
 femblies, muft be very (hocking to the light, and fo indeed is 
 every thing elfe that can be feen among a rude and ragged 
 multitude, that are covered with dirt, and have in none of 
 their paftimes one action that is inotTenlive : but, after all, 
 vice and what is criminal, are not to be confounded with 
 roughnefs and want of manners, no more than politenefs and 
 an artful behaviour ought to be with virtue or religion. To 
 tell a premeditated falfehood in order to do mifchief, is a 
 greater fin, than to give a man the lie, who fpeaks an untruth; 
 and it is poffible, that a perfon may fiaTer greater damage, and 
 more injury to his ruin, from llander in the low whiiper of a 
 fecret enemy, than he could have received from all the dread- 
 ful f wearing and curling, the molt noify antagenift could 
 pelt him with. Incontinence, and adultery itfelf, perfons of 
 quality are not more free from all over Chriitendom, than 
 the meaner people : but if there are fome vices, which the 
 vulgar are more guilty of than the better fort, there are 
 others the reverfe. Envy, detraction, and the fpirit of re- 
 venge, are more raging^ and mifchievous in courts than they 
 5 
 
^02 THE FIRST DIALOGUE. 
 
 are in cottages. Excefs of vanity and hurtful ambition ar? 
 unknown among the poor; they are feldom tainted with 
 avarice, w-ith irreligion never ; and they have much lefs op- 
 portunity of robbing the public than their betters. There 
 are few perfons of diiiinction, whom you are not acquainted 
 with : I defire, you would ierioufly reflect on the lives of as 
 many as you can think of, and next opera night on the vir- 
 tues of the afTembly. 
 
 Hor. You make me laugh. There is a good deal in what 
 you fay ; and I am perfuaded, all is not gold that glifters. 
 Would you add any more? 
 
 Geo. Since you have given me leave to talk, and you are 
 fuch a patient hearer, I would not flip the opportunity of 
 laying before you fome things of high concern, that perhaps 
 you never coniidered in the light, which you lhall own your- 
 felf they ought to be feen in. 
 
 Hor. I am forry to leave you ; but I have really buflnefs 
 that mult be done to-night : it is about my law-fuit, and I 
 have ftayed beyond my time already : but if you will come 
 and eat a bit of mutton with me to-morrow, I will fee nobo- 
 dy but yourfelf, and we will converfe as long as you pleafe. 
 
 Cleo. With all my heart. 1 will not fail to wait on you. 
 
 THE SECOND 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 BETWEEN 
 
 HORATIO AND CLEOMENES 
 
 HORATIO. 
 
 I he difcourfe we had yefterday, has made a great im- 
 pr' flion upon me ; you faid feveral things that were very 
 entertaining, and fome which I mall not eafily forget : 1 do 
 not remember I ever ^cked into myfeli" fo much as I have 
 done fince lait night alter I left you, 
 
THE SECOND DIALCCUE. $03 
 
 Cleo. To do that faithfully, is a more difficult and a feverer 
 talk than is commonly imagined. When, yefterday, I afked 
 you where and among what fort of people we were to look 
 for thofe whom you would allow to acl from principles of 
 virtue, you named a clafs, among whom I have found very- 
 agreeable characters of men, that yet all have their failings. 
 If thefe could be left out, and the beft were picked and cul- 
 led from the different good qualities that are to be feen in 
 feveral, the compound would make a very handibme pic- 
 ture. 
 
 Hor. To finim it well every way would be a great mailer- 
 piece. 
 
 Cleo. That I fhall not attempt : but I do not think it 
 would be very difficult to make a little {ketch of it, that yet 
 iliould exceed nature, and be a better pattern for imitation 
 than any can be fhown alive. I have a mind to try ; the very 
 thought enlivens me. How charming is the portrait of a 
 complete gentleman, and how ravilliing is the figure which 
 a perfon of great birth and fortune, to whom nature has 
 been no niggard, makes, when he unclerftands the world, 
 and is thoroughly well-bred 1 
 
 Hor. I think them io, I can alfure you, whether you are 
 in jeft or in earner!:. 
 
 Cleo. How entirely well hid are his greatefl imperfections ! 
 though money is his idol, and he is covetous in his heart, 
 yet his inward avarice is forced to give way to his outward 
 liberality, and an open generolity fhines through all his ac- 
 tions. 
 
 Hor. There lies your fault : it is this I cannot endure in 
 you. 
 
 Cleo. What is the matter ? 
 
 Hor. I know what you are about, you are going to give 
 me the cancatura of a gentleman, under pretence of draw- 
 ing his portrait. 
 
 Cleo. You wrong me, I have no fuch thought. 
 
 Hor. But why is it impoffible for human nature ever to 
 be good? initead of leaving out, you put in failings without 
 the leaft grounds or colour. When things have a handibme 
 appearance every way, what reafon have you to fufpecl them 
 ftill to be bad ? How came you to know, and which way 
 have you discovered imperfections that are entirely well hid ; 
 and why mould you fuppofe a perfon to be covetous in his 
 heart, and that money is his idol, when you own yourieif 
 
3©4 THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 that he never fhews it, and that an open generality fhines 
 through all his actions ? This is monftrous. 
 
 Cko. I have made no fuch fuppolition of any man, and I 
 proteft to you, that, in what I faid, I had no other meaning 
 than to obferve, that whatever frailties and natural infirmi- 
 ties perfons might be confcious of within, good fenfe and 
 good manners were capable, and, without any other affift- 
 ance, fufficient to keep them out of light : but yourqueftions 
 aie very feafonable, and fince you have ftarted this, I will 
 be very open to you, and acquaint you before hand with my 
 defign of the description I am going to make ; and the ufe 
 I intend it for; which in (hortis, to demonftrate to you, that 
 a molt beautiful fuperftructure may be raifed upon a rotten 
 and defpicable foundation. You will underftand me better 
 preiently. 
 
 Hor. Eut how do you know a foundation to be rotten that 
 fupports the building, and is wholly concealed from you? 
 
 Cko. Have patience, and I promife you, that I mail take 
 nothing for granted, which you lhall not allow of yourfeif. 
 
 Hon Stick clofe.to that, and I deiire no more : now fay 
 what ycu will. 
 
 C-co. The true objecl of pride or vain glory is the opinion 
 of others ; and the moil fupeilative wifh, "which a man pof- 
 ieffed, and entirely filled with it can make, is, that he may 
 be well thought of, applauded, and admired by the whole 
 world, not only in the prefent but all future ages. This paf- 
 ficn is generally exploded; but it is incredible, how many 
 flrange and widely different miracles are, and may be per- 
 formed by the force of it ; as perfons differ in circumfiances 
 and inclinations. In the firft place, there is no danger fo 
 great, but by the help of his pride a man may flight and 
 confront it ; nor any manner of death fo terrible, but with 
 the fame ailifiance he may court, and if he has a firm confti- 
 tution, undergo it with alacrity. In the fecond, there are 
 no good offices or duties, either to others or ourielves, that 
 Cicero has lpoke of, nor any infiance of benevolence, hu- 
 manity, or other focial virtue, that Lord Shaftfbury has 
 hinted at, but a man of good fenfe and knowledge may learn 
 to praclife them from no better principle than vain glory, 
 if it be ilrong enough to fubdue and keep under all other 
 palllons that may thwart and interfere with his defign. 
 
 Hor. Shall 1 allow all this ? 
 
 Cko. Yes. 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE., 305 
 
 Hor. When? 
 
 Cko. Before we part. 
 
 Hor. Very well. 
 
 Cko. Men of tolerable parts in plentiful circumftances, 
 that were artfully educated, and are not lingular in their 
 temper, can hardly fail of a genteel behaviour : the 
 pride they have, and the greater value they fet on the eftee n 
 of others, the more they will make it their iludy to render 
 themfelves acceptable to all they converfe with; and they 
 will take uncommon pains to conceal and ftifle in their oo- 
 foms, every thing which their good fenfe tells them o 
 not to be feen or underftood. 
 
 Hor. I muft interrupt you, and cannot fuffer you to go 
 on thus. What is all this but the old ilory over again, that 
 every thing is pride, and all we fee hypocrify, without 
 proof or argument ? Nothing in the world is more falfe than 
 what you have advanced now ; for, according to that, the 
 mod noble, the moit gallant, and the bell: bred man would 
 be the prouder! ; which is fo cla filing with daily experience, 
 that the very reverfe is true. Pride and infolence are no 
 where more common than among upftarts ; men of no fa- 
 mily, that raile eftates out of nothing, and the moil: ordinary 
 people, that having had no education, are puffed up with 
 their fortune whenever they are lifted up above mediocrity, 
 and from mean ftations advanced to polls of honour : where- 
 as, no men upon earth, generally fpeaking, are more cour- 
 teous, humane, or polite, than perfons of high birth, that en- 
 joy the large poiTeiiions and*known feats of their ancestors ; 
 men illuftnous by deicent, that have been uied to grandeur 
 and titles of honour from their infancy, and received an 
 education fuitable to their quality. I do not believe there 
 ever was a nation, that were not favages, in which the 
 youth of both iexes were not exprefsly taught never to be 
 proud or haughty : did you ever know a fchool, a tutor, or 
 a parent, that did not continually inculcate to thole under 
 their care to be civil and obliging ; nay, does not the word 
 mannerly itfelf import as much ? 
 
 Cko. I beg of you, let us.be calm, and fpeak with exactnefs. 
 The doctrine of good manners furnifhes us with a-thoufand 
 leffbns. againll the various appearances and outward fymptums 
 of pride, but it has not one precept againll the paffion itfelf, 
 
 Hor. How is that? 
 
 X 
 
3C6 THE SECOND DIALOGUE, 
 
 Cleo. No, not one againft the padion itfelf; the concjuert 
 of it is never attempted, nor talked of in a gentleman's edu- 
 cation, where men are to be continually infpired and kept 
 warm with the feme of their honour, and the" inward value 
 they mull put upon themfelves on all emergencies. 
 - Hor. This is worth consideration, and requires time to be 
 examined into ; but where is your tine gentleman, the pic- 
 ture you promifed ? 
 
 Cleo. I am ready, and (hall begin with his dwelling : 
 Though lie has feveral noble feats in different countries, yet I 
 ihail only take notice of his chief manvion-houfe that bears 
 the name, and does the honours of the fa nily : this is amply 
 magnificent, and yet commodious to admiration. His gar- 
 dens are very exteniive, and contain an Infinite variety of 
 pleafing objects : they are divided into many branches for di- 
 vers purpofes. svery with improvements of 
 art upon nature; yet a beautiful order and happy contriv- 
 ance are confpicuous throu: part; and though no- 
 thing is omitted to render them Itatelv and delightful ; the 
 whole is laid, out to the belt advantage Within dpprs, every 
 thing befpeaks dgment of the mailer; 
 and as no colt is fpared i procure beauty or con- 
 veniency, fo y n-tly laviihed. All Ins 
 plate and furniture are completely fine, and you fee no 
 but what is fathionable. He has do pictures but of the moil 
 eminent hands: the rarities he fhows are really fuch ; he 
 hoards up no trifles, nor offers any thing to your fight that is 
 Shocking: but the feveral collections he has of this fort, are 
 agreeable as well as extraordinary, and rather valuable than 
 large : but curioiities and wealth are not confined to his ca- 
 binet ; the marble and ieuipture that are diiplayed up and 
 down are a treafure themfelves ; and there is abundance of 
 admirable gilding and excellent carving to be feen in many 
 places. What has been laid out on the great hall, and one 
 gallery, would be a coniiderable eftafe ; and there is a lalloon 
 and a ftair-cafe not inferior to either : thefe are all very fpa- 
 cious and lofty ; the architecture of them is of the bell tafte, 
 and the decorations furpniing. Throughout the whole there 
 appears a delicate mixture and aftoniihing variety of lively 
 embeliiihments, the fplendour of which, joined to a perieel 
 cleanknefs, no where neglecled, are higly entertaining to the 
 mod carelefs and leaft obferving eye ; uhillt the exactneis of 
 the workmanihip bellowed on every part of the meanefl 
 
the second dial- 
 
 re folid fatisfa&ion, and hg to the 
 
 curie :'the greateft excellency in this model of per- 
 
 il is this ; that as m the moil ordinary roo ns th 
 
 pole, and the Le tge is 
 
 ini(hed; fo in thoie of the greateft eclat there is 
 nothing c" y part of them encumbered with 
 
 omai : 
 
 Hor. Thi idied piece; but I do ttotlike it the worle 
 
 for it. prav go own. 
 
 ;. 1 have thought of it before, I own. His equipage js 
 rich . ! chofen, and there is nothing to be feen al 
 
 him that art or exp: 
 
 make better. . eve 
 
 his heart leems to be a- open as his c: 
 
 is to take c . trouble- 
 
 fome ; and all his happinefs - 
 
 pleafe his friends : in his greateft mil .... b a re- 
 
 ran ; and nevej 
 bandfome familiarities . 
 To every one that fpeaks to h 
 obliging . i, and leems at 
 
 -l in- 
 
 : to any encomi 
 
 : on any thing that is his. ad 
 
 ipies faults ; and whate- i i 
 nothing, or, in :o the ec 
 
 le beft-nat 
 but he ves a houle befc 
 
 to extol w lout wrong 
 
 ■ ; facetious and good hu :d as 
 
 diverting. He never utters a fyUable that has the 
 tmetare of bbfeenity or profanenefs \ nor evei ajeft 
 
 that eve. 
 
 Her. Very tine ! 
 
 ;. He leems to be entirely free from bigotry and fuper- 
 :;, avoids all dilputes about religion : but goe^ comtant- 
 ly to church, and is ieldom a blent from his family devotions. 
 Hor. A very godly gentleman ! 
 
 ;. 1 expecied we Ihould differ there. 
 Hur. I do not find fault. Proceed, prav. 
 
 . he is a man of erudition hunielf, fo he is a pro- 
 moter of arts and iciences : he is a friend to merit a re- 
 
 X 2 
 
30 8 TRX SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 warder of induftry, and a profefTed enemy to nothing but 
 immorality and oppreffi on. Though no man's table is better 
 furniftied, nor cellars better ftored ; he is temperate in his 
 eating, and never commits excefs in drinking : though he 
 has an exquifite palate, he always prefers wholefome meats 
 to thole that are delicious only, and never indulges his appe- 
 tite in any thing that might probably be prejudicial to his 
 health. 
 
 Hor. Admirably good ! 
 
 Cleo. As he is in all other things, fo he is elegant in his 
 clothes, and has often new ones: neatnefs he prefers to finery 
 in his own drefs; but his retinue is rich. He felclom wears 
 gold or filver himfelf, but on very folemn occaiions, in com- 
 pliment to others ; and to demon (Irate that thefe pompous 
 habits are made for no other -purpofe, he is never feen twice 
 in the fame ; but having appeared in them one day, he gives 
 them away the next. Though of every thing he has the 
 belt of the fort, and might be called curious in apparel; yet 
 he leaves the care of it to others ; and no man has his clothes 
 put on better that feem fo little to regard them. 
 
 Hor. Perfectly right ; to be well drefTed is a neceflary ar- 
 ticle, and yet to be folicitous about it is below a perfon of 
 quality. 
 
 Cleo. Therefore he has a domeftic of good tafte, a judicious 
 man, who faves him that trouble ; and the management like- 
 wife of his lace and linen, is the province of a Ikilful wo- 
 man. His language is courtly, but natural and intelligible; 
 it is neither low nor bombaftic, and ever free from pedantic 
 and vulgar expreffions. All his motions are genteel without 
 affectation ; his mien is rather fedate than airy, and his man- 
 ner noble : for though he is ever civil and condefcending, 
 and no man lels arrogant, yet in all his carriage there is fome- 
 thing gracefully majeftic ; and as there is nothing mean in 
 his humility, fo his loftinefs has nothing difobliging. 
 
 Hor Prodigiouily good ! 
 
 Cleo. He js charitable to the poor ; his houfe is never fliut 
 to ilrangers ; and . all his neighbours he counts to be his 
 friends. He is a father to his tenants ; and looks upon their 
 welfare as infeparable from his interefL No man is lefs un- 
 eafy at little offences, or more ready to forgive all trefpailes 
 without defign. The injuries that are fuffered from other 
 landlords, lie turns into benefits; and whatever damages, 
 great or fmall, are fuitained on his account, either from his 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE JGg 
 
 diverfions or otherwife, he doubly makes good. Ke takes 
 care to be early informed of fuch loffes, and commonly re- 
 pairs them before they are complained of. 
 
 Hor. Gh rare humanity ; hearken ye foxhunters ! 
 
 Cleo. He never chides any of his people ; yet no man is 
 better ferved ; and though nothing is wanting in his houfe - 
 keeping, and his family is very numerous, yet the regularity 
 of h is no lefs remarkable than the plenty they live in. His 
 orders he .will have nriciiy obeyed ; but his commands are al- 
 ways reasonable, and he never fpeaks to the meaneit footman 
 without regard to humanity. Extraordinary diligence in fer- 
 vants, and all laudable actions he takes notice of himfelf, and 
 often commends them to their faces ; but leaves it to his 
 lleward to reprove or difmifs thofe he dillikes. 
 
 Hor. Well j u age d . 
 
 CJeo. Whoever lives with him is taken care of in ficknefs 
 as well as in health. The wages he gives are above double 
 thofe of other mailers ; and he often makes preients to thofe 
 that are more than ordinary obferving and induitrious to 
 pleafe: but he fullers nobody to take a penny of his friends 
 or others, that come to his houfe, on any account whatever. 
 Many faults are connived at, or pardoned for the firft time, 
 but a breach of this order is ever attended with the lois of 
 their places as foon as it is found out ; and there is a pre- 
 mium for the difcovery. 
 
 Hor. This is the only exceptionable thing, in my opinion, 
 that I have heard yet. 
 
 Cleo. I wonder at that : why fo, pray ? 
 
 Hor. In the firft place, it is very difficult to enforce obedi- 
 ence to fuch a command; fecondly, if it could be executed, 
 it would be of little ufe ; unlefs it could be made geneial, 
 which is impoflible : and therefore 1 look upon the attempt 
 of introducing this maxim to be lingular and fantallical. It 
 would pleafe mifers and others, that would never follow the 
 example at home; but it would take a\vay from generous 
 men a handfome opportunity of mowing their liberal and 
 beneficent difpofition : befides, it would manifeitly make 
 ones houfe too open to all forts of people. 
 
 Cleo. Ways might be found to prevent that ; but then it 
 would be a bleiling, and do great kmdnefs to men of parts 
 and education, that have little to ipare, to many of whom 
 this money to iervants is a very grievous burden, 
 
 x 3 
 
3IO - THE SECOND DIALOGUE, 
 
 Hor. What you mention is the only thing that can be faid 
 for it, and I own, of great weight : but I beg your pardon for 
 interrupting you. 
 
 Cko. ii all his dealings he is punctual and juft. As he has 
 an immenfe eftate, fo he has good managers to take care of 
 it : but though all his accounts are very neatly kept, yet he 
 makes it part, of his bufmefs to look them over himfelf. He 
 fuffers no tradefman's bill to lie by unexamined ; and though 
 he meddles not with his ready cafli himfelf, yet he is a quick 
 and cheerful, as well as an exact paymafter ; and the only 
 fingularity he is guilty of, is, that he never will owe any thing 
 pn a new-year's day 
 
 Hor. 1 like that very well. 
 
 Cko. He is affable with difcretion, of eafy aecefs, and ne- 
 ver ruffled with paffion. To fum up all, no man feems to be 
 lefs elevated with his condition than himfelf; and in the full 
 (enjoyment of fo many perfonal accomplishments, as well as 
 other pofTeffions, his modefty is equal o the reft of his hap- 
 piaefs ; and in the midft of the pomp and diltinction he lives 
 in, he never appears to be entertained with his greatnefs, but 
 rather unacquainted with the things he excels in. 
 
 Hor. It is an admirable character, and pleafes me exceed- 
 ingly ; but 1 w T ill freely own to you, that 1 mould have been 
 more highly delighted with the defcription, if I had not 
 known your defign, and the ufe you intend to make of it ; 
 which, 1 think, is barbarous : to raife fo fine, fo elegant, and 
 fo complete an edifice, in order to throw it down, is taking 
 great pains to fhow one's fkill in doing miichief. I have ob- 
 served the fcveral places where you left room for evafions, 
 and lapping the foundation you have built upon. His heart 
 feems to be as open; and heyiieyer appears to be entertained 
 with his greatnels, 1 am perfuaded, that wherever you 
 have put in this fee ming and appearing, you have done it de- 
 iignedly, and with an intent to make ufe of them as fo many 
 back doors to creep out at. I could never have taken no- 
 tice of theie things, if you had not acquainted me with your 
 intention before hand. ' 
 
 Cleo. 1 have made ufe of the caution you fpeak of: but 
 with no other view than to a^oid juit ceniure, and prevent 
 your accufin,- me of mconecineis, or judging with too much 
 precipitation; if it mould be provea afterwards, that this 
 gentleman had adted from an ill principle, which is the thing 
 I own 1 purpoied to convince you of; but feeing, that it; 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 3 II 
 
 would be uripleafant to you, I will be fatisfied with having 
 given you fome ftnall entertainment of the defcription, and 
 for the reft* 1 give you leave to think me in the wrong. 
 
 Hor. Why io? L thought the character was made and con- 
 trived on purpofe for my inftruclion. 
 
 Cleo. 1 do not pretend to inftruQ you : I would have offer- 
 ed fomething, and appealed to your judgment ; but 1 have 
 been miftaken, and plainly fee my error. Both laft night 
 and now, when we began our difcourTe, I took you to be in 
 another difpolition of thinking than I perceive you are. 
 You lpoke of an impreffion that had been made upon you, 
 and of looking into yourfelf, and gave fome other hints, 
 which too raihly I mifconftrued in my favour ; but I have 
 found iince, that you axe as warm as ever againft the fenti- 
 ments I profefs myfelf to be of; and therefore I will deiift. 
 I expect no plealure from any triumph, and I know nothing 
 that would vex me more, than the thoughts of difobliging 
 you. Pray let us do in this as we do in another matter of 
 importance, never touch upon it : friends in prudence mould 
 avoid all fubjects in which they are known efTentially to dif- 
 fer. Believe me, Horatio, if it was in my power to divert 
 or give you any pleafure, I would grudge no pains to com- 
 pais that end : but to make you uneafy, is a thing that I mail 
 never be knowingly guilty of, and t beg a thouiand pardons 
 for having faid fo much both yeflerday and to-day. Have 
 you heard any thing from Gibraltar? 
 
 Hor. I am afhamed of my weaknefs and your civility : 
 you have not been miilaken in the hints you fpeak of; what 
 you have faid has certainly made a great impreffion upon 
 me, and I have endeavoured to examine myfelf: but, as you 
 fay, it is a fevere talk to do it faithfully. I defired you to 
 dine with me on purpofe, that we might talk of thefe things. 
 It is 1 that have offended, and it is 1 that ought to afk par- 
 don for the ill manners 1 have been guilty of; but you know 
 the principles I have always adherred to ; it is impoffible to 
 recede from them at once. I fee great difficulties, and now 
 and then a glimpfe of truth, that makes me ftart : 1 fome- 
 times feel great ilruggles within ; but 1 have been fo ufed 
 to derive ail actions that are really good from laudable mo- 
 tives, that as foon as 1 return to my accuitomed way of 
 thinking, it carries all before it, Pray bear with my infirmi- 
 ties. 1 am in love with your fine gentleman, and I confefs, 
 I cannot lee how a perion fo umveriaily good, io tar remote 
 X 4 
 
312 THE SECOND DIALOGUE, 
 
 from all felnflmefs, can act in fuch an extraordinary manner 
 every way, but from principles of virtue and religion. Where 
 is there fuch a landlord in the world ? If I am in an error, I 
 fh all be-gkd to be undeceived. Pray inform me, and fay 
 what you will, I promife you to keep my temper, and I beg 
 of you fpeak your mind with freedom. 
 
 Cleo. You have bid me before fay what I would, and when 
 I did, you feemed difpleafed ; but fmce you command me 
 
 I will try once more. Whether there is or ever was fuch 
 
 a man as I have defcribed, in the world, is not very material : 
 but 1 will ealily allow, that moit people would think it lefs 
 difficult to conceive one, than to imagine that fuch a clear 
 and beautiful ftream could flow from fo mean and muddy a 
 fpring, as an exceffive thirit after praife, and an immoderate 
 defire of general applaufe from the mofl knowing judges : 
 yet it is certain, that great parts and extraordinary riches 
 may compafs all this in a man, who is not deformed, and has 
 had a refined education ; and that there are many perfons 
 naturally no better than a thoufand others, who by the helps 
 mentioned, might attain to thofe good qualities and accom- 
 plifnments, if they had but refolution and perfeverance 
 enough, to render every appetite and every faculty fubfer- 
 vient to that one predominant paffion, which, if continually 
 graitified, will always enable them to govern, and, if required, 
 to fubdue all the reil without exception, even in the moil 
 difficult cafes. 
 
 Hor. To enter into an argument concerning the poffibili-' 
 ty of what you fay, might occafion a long difpute; but the 
 probability, I think, is very clear againit you, and if there 
 was fuch a man, it would be much more credible, that he 
 acted from the excellency of his nature, in which fo many 
 virtues and rare endowments were alTembled, than that all 
 his good qualities fprung from vicious motives. If pride 
 could be the caufe of all this, the effect of it would fome- 
 times appear in others. According to your fyftem, there is no 
 icarcity of it, and there are men of great parts and prodigious 
 eilates all over Europe : why are there not feveral fuch pat- 
 terns to be feen up and down, as you have drawn us one ; 
 and why is it fo very feldom, that many virtues and good 
 qualities are feen to meet in one individual ? 
 
 Cleo. Why fo few perfons, though there are fo many men 
 of immsnfe fortune, ever arrive at any thing like this high 
 pitch of accompliihments, there are feveral reafons that are 
 
THE SECOND DIALO.GUE. 313 
 
 very obvious. In the firft place, men differ in temperament : 
 fome are naturally of an active, ftirring ; others of an indo- 
 lent, quiet difpofition ; fome of a bold, others of a meek fpi- 
 rit. In the fecond, it is to be confidered, that this tempera- 
 ment in men come to maturity is more or lefs confpicuous, 
 according as it has been either checked or encouraged by 
 education. Thirdly, that on thefe two depend the different 
 perception men have of happinefs, according to which the 
 love of glory -determines them different w T ays. Some think 
 it the greater!: felicity to govern and rule over others : fome 
 take the praife of bravery and undauntednefs in dangers to be 
 the mod valuable : others, erudition, and to be a celebrated 
 author : fo that, though they all love glory, they fet out dif- 
 ferently to acquire it. But a man who hates a buille, and is 
 naturally of a quiet eafy temper, and which has been en- 
 couraged in him by education, it is very likely might think 
 nothing more defirable than the character of a fine gentle- 
 man ; and if he did, I dare fay that he would endeavour to 
 behave himfelf pretty near the pattern I have given you; I 
 fay pretty near, becaufe I may have been miftaken in fome 
 things, and as I have not touched upon every thing, fome 
 will fay, that I have left out feveral neceifary ones : but in 
 the main I believe, that in the country and age we live in, 
 the qualifications I have named would get a man the reputa- 
 tion I have fuppofed him to defire. 
 
 Hor. Without doubt, I make no- manner of lcruple about 
 what you laid lall ; and I told you before that it was an ad- 
 mirable character, and pleafed me exceedingly. That I took 
 notice of your making your gentleman fo very godly as you 
 did, was becaufe it is not common ; but I intended it not as 
 a reflection. One thing, indeed, there w 7 as in which I differed 
 from you ; but that was merely fpeculative ; and, fince I 
 have reflected on what you have anfwered me, I do not 
 know but I may be in the wrong, as 1 iliould certainly be- 
 lieve myfelf to be, if there really was fuch a man, and he 
 was of the contrary opinion : to fuch a fine genius 1 would 
 pay an uncommon deference, and with great readmefs fub- 
 mit my underflanding to his fuperior capacity. But the 
 reafons you give why thofe effects which you afcribe to 
 pride, are not more common, the caufe being fo univerfal, I 
 think are infufrlcient. That men are prompted to follow dif- 
 ferent ends, as their inclinations differ, 1 can eafily allow ; 
 but there are great numbers of rich men that are likewife of 
 
3X4 THE SECOND DIALOGUE, 
 
 a quiet and indolent difpofition, and moreover very defirous 
 of being thought fine gentlemen. How comes it, that among 
 fo many perfons of high birth, princely eftates, and the moll 
 refined education, as there are in Ghriftendom, that ftudy, 
 travel, and take great pains to be well acco:nphmed, there 
 is not one, to whom all the good qualities, and every thing 
 you named, could be applied without flattery ? 
 
 Cieo. It is very poilible that thoufands may aim at this, 
 and not one of them fucceed to that degree : in fame, per- 
 haps -the predominant paffion is not itrong enough entirely 
 to fubdue the reit : love or covetoufnefs may divert others :' 
 drinking, gaming, may draw away many, and break tn upon, 
 their refolution ; they may not have ftrength to perfevere in 
 a deiign, and iteadily to purfue the fame ends ; or they may 
 want a true taite or knowledge of what is erlemed by men 
 of judgment; or. lailly, they may not be fo thoroughly well- 
 bred, as is required to conceal themfelves on all emergencies : 
 for the practical part of diffimulation is infinitely more diffi- 
 cult than the theory : and any one of thefe obllacles is fuffi- 
 cient to fpoil all, and hinder the rlniming offuch a piece. 
 
 Hor. I ihall not difpute that with you : but all this while 
 you have proved nothing, nor given the leait realon why you 
 ihould imagine, that a man of a character, to all outward ap- 
 pearance fo bright and beautiful, acled from vicious motives. 
 You would not condemn him without fo much as naming 
 the caufe why you fufpec~t him. 
 
 ' Cleo. By no means ; nor have I advanced any thing that 
 is ill natmed or uncharitable : for 1 have not laid, that if I 
 found a gentleman in poffeffion of all the things 1 mention- 
 ed, 1 would give his rare endowments this turn, and think 
 all his perfections derived from no better flock, than an ex- 
 traordinary love oi glory. What i argue for, and infill upon, 
 is the pofiibility that alitheie things might be performed by 
 a man from no other views, and with no other helps, than 
 thole i have named : nay, 1 believe moreover, that a gentle- 
 man lb accomplifhed, ail his knowledge and great parts not- 
 withstanding, may himfelf be ignorant, or at leait not well 
 allured of tiie motive he ads lrcm. 
 
 Hor. This is more unintelligible than any thing you have 
 faid yet ; why will you heap diihcul les upon one another, 
 without folving any ? 1 defire you would clear up tins laft 
 paradox, berore you do any thing eife. 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 315 
 
 Cleo. In order to obey you, I muft put you in mind of 
 what happens in early education, by the firit rudiments of 
 which, infants are taught in the choice of actions to pieier 
 the precepts of others to the dictates of their own inclina- 
 tions; which, in fhort, is no more than doing as they are btd. 
 To gain this point, punifhments and rewards are not neglect- 
 ed, and many different methods are made ufe of; but it is 
 certain, that nothing proves more often effectual for this pur- 
 pofe, or has a greater influence upon children, than the han- 
 dle that is made of fhame ; which, though a natural paiiion, 
 they would not be feniible of fo loon, if we did not artruliy 
 roufe and ftir it up in them, before they can ipeak or go : 
 by which means, their judgment being then weak, we may 
 teach them to be afhamed of what we pleaie, as foon a c we 
 can perceive them to be any ways affected with the paiiion 
 itieir: but as the fear of fhame is very iniignincanc, where 
 there is but little pride, fo it is impoiiibie to augment the 
 nrit, without increaiing the latter in the lame proportion. 
 
 Hor. 1 ihould have thought that this increaie oi pride 
 would render children more itubborn and lefs docile. 
 
 Cleo. You judge right ; it would fo, and mutt have been a 
 great hmderance to good manners, till experience taught 
 men, that though pride was not to be deiiroyed by force, it 
 might be governed by ftratagem, and that the beft Way to 
 manage it, is by playing the paiTion againit itieir'. Hence it 
 is, that in an artful education, we are allowed to place as 
 much pride as w T e pleafe in our dexterity of concealing it. I 
 do not fuppofe, that this covering ourfeives, notwithitandmg 
 the pride we take in it, is performed without a difficulty that 
 is plainly felt, and perhaps very unpleafant at firft ; but this 
 wears off as we grow 7 up ; and when a man has behaved him- 
 felf with fo much prudence as I have defcribed, lived up to 
 the ftricteft rules of good- breeding for many years, and has 
 gained the eixeem of all that know him, when this noble and 
 polite manner is become habitual to him., it is poilible he 
 may in time forget the principle he fet out with, and become 
 ignorant, or at leait infenfible of the hidden fpnng that 
 gives life and motion to ail his actions. 
 
 Hor. 1 am convinced of the great ufe that may be made 
 of pride, if you will call it fo ; but 1 am not fatisfied yet, 
 how a man of fo much fenfe, knowledge, and penetration, 
 one that underilands himfelffo entirely well, mould be ig- 
 norant of his own heart, and the motives he acts from, 
 
 a 
 
316 THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 Vv hat is it that induces you to believe this, befides the pof- 
 fibility of his forgetfulnef s ? . 
 
 Cko. I have two reafons for it, which I defire may be feriouf- 
 ly considered. The firft is, that m what relates to ourfelves, e- 
 fpecially our own worth and excellency, pride blinds the un- 
 ierftanding in men of fenfe and great parts as well as in others, 
 and the greater value we may reafonably let upon ourfelves, 
 the fitter we are to fwallow the.'grofleil flatteries, in fpite of 
 all our knowledge and abilities in other matters : witnefs 
 Alexander the Great, whofe vaft genius could not hinder 
 him from doubting feriouily, whether he was a god or not. 
 My fecond reafon will prove to us, that if the perion in 
 qaeftion was capable of examining himfelf, it is yet highly 
 improbable, that he would ever fet about it : for, it mull 
 be granted, that, in order to fearch into ourfelves, it is re- 
 quired we mould be willing as well as able ; and we have 
 ail the reafon in the world to think, that there is nothing 
 which a very proud man of fuch high qualifications would 
 avoid more carefully than fuch an inquiry : becaufe, for all 
 other acts of felf-denial. he is repaid in his darling paffion ; 
 'but this alone is really mortifying, and the only facrifice of 
 his quiet for which he can have no equivalent. If the hearts 
 of the bell and iincereft men are corrupt and deceitful, what 
 condition mud theirs be in, whofe whole life is one conti- 
 nuedfcene of hypocrify ! therefore inquiring within, and bold- 
 ly fearching into ones own bofom, mull be the mod mocking 
 employment, that a man can give his mind to, whofe great- 
 eft pleafure eonfifls in fecretly admiring himfelf. It would be 
 ill manners, after this, to appeal to yourfelf ; but the feve- 
 rity of the talk 
 
 Hor. Say no more, I yield this point, though I own I 
 cannot conceive what advantage you can expect from it : 
 for, inftead of removing, it will rather help to increafe the 
 grand difficulty, which is to prove, that this complete perfon 
 you have defcribed, acts from a vicious motive : and if that 
 be not your delign, I cannot fee what you drive at. 
 
 Cko. I told you it was. 
 
 Hor. You muft have a prodigious fagacity in detecting 
 abftrufe matters before other men. 
 
 Cko. You wonder, I know, which wa/ I arrogate to my- 
 felf fuch- a fuperlative degree of penetration, as to know an 
 artful cunning man better than he does himfelf, and how I 
 dare pretend to enter and look into a heart, which I have 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 317 
 
 owned to be completely well concealed from all the world ; 
 which in ftrictnefs is an impoflibihty, and consequently not 
 to be bragged of but by a coxcomb. 
 
 •* Hor. You may treat yourfelf as you pleafe, I have faid 
 no luch thing ; but I own that I long to fee it proved, that 
 you have this capacity. I remember the character very well: 
 Not with (tan ding the precautions you have taken, it is very 
 full : I told you before, that where things have a handfome 
 appearance every way, there can be no ju(t caufe to fufpect 
 them. I will (lick clofe to that; your gentleman is all of a 
 piece : ,You fhall alter nothing, either by retra cling any of 
 the good qualities you have given him, or making; additions 
 that are either claihing with, or unfuitable to what you have 
 allowed already. 
 
 Cko. I mall attempt neither: And without that, deciiive 
 trials may be made, by^ which it will plainly appear whether 
 a perfon acts from inward goodnefs,and a principle of religion, 
 or only from a motive of vain glory ; and. in the latter cafe, 
 there is an infallible way of dragging the lurking nend (torn 
 his darkeft receifes into a glaring light, where ail the world 
 fhall know him. 
 
 Hor. I do not think myfelf a match for you in argument ; 
 but I have a -great mind to be your gentleman's advocate 
 againft all your infallibility : I never hked a caufe better in 
 my life. Come, I undertake to defend him in all the fup~ 
 pofitions you can make that are reafonable and confident 
 with what you have faid before. 
 
 Cko. Very well : let us fuppofe what may happen to the 
 moft inoffenflve, the moft prudent, and bed- bred man ; that 
 our fine gentleman differs in opinion before company, with 
 another, who is his equal in birth and quality, but not fo 
 much mailer over his outward behaviour, and lefs guarded 
 in his conduct; let this adverfary, mai I apropos, grow warm, 
 and fee m to be wanting in the reipect that is due to the 
 other, and reflect on his honour in ambiguous terms. What 
 is your client to do ? 
 
 Hor. Immediately to aik for an explanation. 
 
 Cko. Which, if the hot man difregards with fcorn, or 
 flatly refufes to give, fatisfaction muft be demanded, and tilt 
 they muft. 
 
 Hor. You are too hafty : it happened before company ; 
 in fuch cafes, friends, or any gentlemen prefent, {hould in- 
 terpofe and take care, that if threatening words eniue, they 
 1 
 
3*8 THE SECOND DIALOGUE* 
 
 are, by the civil authority, both put under arreft ; and before 
 they came to uncourteous language, they ought to have 
 been parted by friendly force, if it were poffible. After 
 that, overtures may be made of reconciliation with the nicefi 
 regard to the point of honour. 
 
 Cleo. I do not afk for directions to prevent a quarrel ; wdiat 
 you fay may be done, or it may not be done : The good 
 offices of friends may fucceed, and they may not fucceed. 
 I am to make what fuppofitions I think fit within the verge 
 of poffibihty, fo they are reasonable and coniiflent with the 
 character I have drawn : can we not fuppofe thefe two per- 
 fons in fuch a fituation that you yourfelf would advife your 
 friend to fend his adverfary a challenge ? 
 
 Hor. Without doubt fuch a thing may happen. 
 
 Cleo. That is enough. After that a duel muft enfue, in 
 which, without determining any thing, the fine gentleman, 
 we will fay, behaves himfelf with the utmolt gallantry. 
 
 Hor. To have fufpected or fuppofed otherwife would have 
 been unreasonable. 
 
 Cleo. You fee, therefore, how fair I am. But what is it, 
 pray, that fo fuddenly difpofes a courteous fweet-tempered 
 man, for fo fmall an evil, to leek a remedy of that extreme 
 violence ? But above ail, what is it that buoys up and hip- 
 ports him againit the fear of death ? for there lies the greater! 
 difficulty. 
 
 Hor. His natural courage and intrepidity, built on the in- 
 nocence of his life, and the rectitude of his manners. 
 
 Cleo. But what makes fo juit and prudent a man, that has 
 the good of Society fo much at heart, ad: knowingly againil 
 the laws of his country ? 
 
 Hor. The ftrict obedience he pays to the laws of honour, 
 which are fuperior to all others. 
 
 Cleo. If men of honour would act confidently, they ought 
 all to be Roman Catholics. 
 
 Hor. Why, pray ? 
 
 Cleo. Became they prefer oral tradition to all written 
 laws : for nobody can tell when, in what king's or emper- 
 or's reign, in what country, _or by w r hat authority thefe laws 
 of honour were firll enacted : it is very itrange they ihould 
 be of fuch force. 
 
 Hor. They are wrote and engraved in every ones breaft 
 that, is a man of honour : there is no denying of it ; you are 
 confcious of it yourfelf - ? every body feels it within. 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 3. 1 9 
 
 Gfeo. Let them be wrote or engraved wherever you pleafe, 
 they are dire^ly oppofite to and clahing with the laws of 
 God; and if the gentle nan I defcribed wis as .incere in his 
 religion as he appeared to be, he mud have been of an opi- 
 nion contrary to yours ; for Chriftians of all perfuaiions are 
 unanimous in allowing the divine laws to be far above all 
 other ; and that all other coniiderations ought to give way 
 to them. How, and under what pretence can a Chrirlian, 
 who is a man of feme, fubmit or agree to laws that prefcribe 
 revenge, 2nd countenance murder ; both which are fo ex- 
 prefsly forbid by the precepts of his- religion ? 
 
 Hot. I am no cafuiH : but. you know, that what I fay is 
 true ; and that, among perfons of honour, a man would be 
 laughed at, that fbould make fuch a fcruple. 'Not but that 
 I think killing a man to be a great .fin, where it can be 
 helped ; and that all prudent men ought to avoid the occa- 
 fiqn, as much as it is in their power. He is highly blameable 
 who is the (hit aggrefibr, and gives the affront ; and whoever 
 enters upon it out of levity, or feeks a quarrel out of wanton-. 
 nefs, ought to be hanged. Nobody would choofe it, who is 
 not a fool ; and yet, when it is forced upon one, all the 
 wifdom in the world cannot teach him how to avoid it. It 
 >een ray cafe you know: 1 mail never forget the reluc- 
 tanpy I had againrl it; but neceriVy has no law. 
 
 Cko. i taw you that very mo, \ ng, and Qed to be 
 
 fedate and void of paflion : you could have no concern. 
 
 Hor. It is filly to mow any at fuch times ; but 1 know 
 bell want I felt; the struggle I had within was unfpeakable: 
 it is a terrible thing. I would then have given a conilder- 
 aole part of my eftate, that the thing whicri forced me into it 
 had not happened ; and yet, upon lefs provocation, 1 would 
 acl the fame part again to-morrow. 
 
 Cko. Do you remember what your concern was chiefly 
 about? 
 
 Hor. How can you afk? It is an affair of the higher!: im- 
 portance that can occur in lire ; I was no boy ; it was after 
 we came from Italy ; 1 was in my nne and twentieth year, 
 had very good acquaintance, and was not ill received : a man 
 or that age, in health and vigour, who has feven thoufand a- 
 year, and the profpecl of being a peer of England, has no 
 reaibn to quarrel with the world, or wifh himfelf out of it. It 
 is a very great hazard a man runs in a duel ; betides the're- 
 inorie and uneaiineis one mult feel as long as he lives, if he 
 
3^0 - THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 has the misfortune of killing his adverfary. It is impofiible 
 to reflect on all thefe things, and at the fame time refolve to 
 run thofe hazards (though there are other confederations of 
 ftill greater moment), without being under a prodigious con- 
 cern. 
 
 Cleo. You fay nothing about the fin. 
 
 Hor. The thoughts of that, without doubt, are a great ad- 
 dition , but the other things are fo weighty of themfelves, 
 that a man's condition at fuch a time, is very perplexed with- 
 out further reflection. 
 
 Cleo. You have now a very fine opportunity, Horatio, of 
 looking into your heart, and with a little of my affiitance, 
 examining yourfelf. If you can condefcend to this, I pro- 
 mife you that you (hall make great difcoveries, and be con- 
 vinced of truths you are now unwilling to believe. A lover 
 of juftice and probity, as you are, ought not to be fond of a 
 road of thinking, where he is always forced to fkulk, and ne- 
 ver dares to meet with light or reafon. Will you furrer me 
 to a(k you fome queflions, and will you anfvver them direct- 
 ly and in good humour ? 
 
 Hor. I will, without referve. 
 
 Cleo. Do you remember the florin upon, the coafl of Ge- 
 noa? 
 
 Hor. Going to Naples ? Very well ; it makes me cold to 
 think of it. 
 
 Cleo. Was you afraid ? 
 
 Hor. Never more in my life : I hate that fickle element; 
 I cannot endure the fea. 
 
 Cleo. What was you afraid of ? 
 
 Hor. That is a pretty queftion : do you think a young 
 fellow of fix- and- twenty, as I was then, and in my circum- 
 flances, had a great mind to be drowned? The captain him- 
 felf laid we were in danger. 
 
 Cleo. But neither he nor any body tUe, difcovered half fo 
 much fear and anxiety as you did. 
 
 Hor. There was nobody there, yourfelf excepted, that had 
 half a quarter fo much to lofe as I had : befides, they are 
 ufed to the fea ; florms are familiar to them. I had never 
 been at fea before, but that fine afternoon we croffed from 
 Dover to Calais. 
 
 Cleo. Want of knowledge or experience may make men 
 apprehend danger where there is none; but real dangers, 
 when they are known to be fuch, try the natural courage of 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. g'2I 
 
 all men ; whether they have been ufed to them or not : fail- 
 ors are as unwilling to lofe their lives as other people. 
 
 Hor. I am not afhamed to own, that I am a great coward 
 at fea : give me terra firnia, and then — 
 
 Cleo. Six or feven months after you fought that duel, I re- 
 member you had the fmall-pox; you was then very much 
 afraid of dying. 
 
 Hor. Not without a caufe. 
 
 Cleo, I heard your phyficians fay, that the violent aprJre- 
 henfion you was under, hindered your ileep, increafed your 
 fever, and was as mifcbievous to you as the diflemper itfelf. 
 
 Hor. That was a terrible time ; I am glad it is over : I had 
 a filter died of it. Before I had it, I was in perpetual dread 
 of it, and many times to hear it named only has maije me un- 
 eafy. 
 
 Cleo. Natural courage is a general armour againit the fear 
 of death, whatever drape that appears in; Si frattus illabatur 
 erbis. It fupports a man in tempeituous feas, and in a burn- 
 ing fever, whilft' he is in his fenfes, as well as in a liege before 
 a town, or in a duel with feconds. 
 
 Hor. What ! you are going to mow me, that I have uo 
 courage. 
 
 Cleo. Far from it; it would be ridiculous to doubt a man's 
 bravery, that has mown it in fuch an extraordinary manner 
 as you have done more than once : what 1 querlion, is the 
 epithet you joined to it at rirft, the word natural ; for there 
 is a great difference between that and artificial courage. 
 
 Hor. That is a chicane I will not enter into : but I am not 
 of your opinion, as to what you faid before. A gentleman 
 is not required to mow his bravery, but where his honour is 
 concerned ; and if he dares to fight for his king, his friend, 
 his miitreis, and every thing where his reputation is engaged, 
 you fhall think of him what you pleafe for the reft. Befides, 
 that in ficknefs and other dangers, as we'll as afflictions, where 
 the hand of God is plainly to be feen, courage and intrepidi- 
 ty are impious as well as impertinent. Undauntednefs in 
 chaftifements is a kind of rebellion : it is waging war with 
 Heaven, which none but atheifts and freethinkers would be 
 guilty of; it is only they that can glory in impenitence, and 
 talk of dying hard. All others that-have any fenfe of reli- 
 gion, defire to repent before they go out of the world: the 
 belt of us do not always live, as we could wifh to die, 
 
 Y 
 
322 THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. I am very glad to hear you are fo religious : but do 
 not you perceive yet, how inconflftent you are with yourfelf : 
 how can a man fincerely wiih to repent, that wilfully plunges 
 himfelf into a mortal fin, and an action where he runs a 
 greater and more immediate hazard of his life, than he could 
 have done in almoft any other, without force or neceffity ? 
 
 Hor. I have over and over owned to you that duelling is 
 a fin ; and, unlefs a man is forced to it by neceffity, I believe, 
 a mortal one : but this was not my cafe, and therefore I hope 
 God will forgive me : let them look to it that make a fport 
 of it. But when a man comes to an action with the utmofl 
 reluclancy, and what he does it not poffibly to be avoided, I 
 think he then may juftly be faid to be forced to it, and to 
 act from neceffity. You may blame the rigorous laws of ho- 
 nour, and the tyranny of cuitom, but a man that will live in 
 the world muft, and is bound to obey them. Would not you 
 do it yourfelf? 
 
 Cleo. Do not aik, me what I would da: the queflion is, 
 what every body ought to do. Can a man believe the Bible, 
 and at the fame time apprehend a tyrant more crafty or ma- 
 licious, more unrelenting or inhuman than the devil, or a mif- 
 chief worfe than hell, and pains either more exquifite or 
 more durable than torments unfpeakable and yet everlafting? 
 You do not anfwer. What evil is it? Think of it, and tell 
 me what difmal thing it is you apprehend, mould you ne- 
 glect thofe laws, and defpiie that tyrant : what calamity 
 could befall you ? Let me know the word that can be feared. 
 
 Hor. Would you be polled for a coward ? 
 
 Geo. For what ? For not daring to violate all human and 
 divine laws ? 
 
 Hor. Strictly fpeaking you are in the right, it is unanfwer- 
 able ; but who will confider things in that light ? 
 
 Cleo. Ail good Chriitians. 
 
 Hor. Where are they then ? For all mankind in general 
 would defpife and laugh at a man, who mould move thofe 
 fcruples. I have heard and feen clergymen themfelves in 
 company (how their contempt of poltrons, whatever they 
 might talk or recommend in the pulpit. Entirely to quit 
 the world, and at once to renounce the converfation of all 
 perfons that are valvable in it, is a terrible thing to refolve 
 upon. Would you become a town and table-talk? Could 
 you fubmit to be the jeft and fcorn of public-houfes, ftage- 
 coaches, and market-places ?. Is not this the certain fate of a. 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 323 
 
 man, who fhould refufe to fight, or bear an affront without 
 refentment ? be juft, Cleomenes ; is it to be avoided ? Muft 
 he not be made a common laughing-flock, be pointed at in 
 the ftreets, and ferve for diverfion to the very children ; to 
 link-boys and hackney-coachmen? Is it a thought to be 
 born with patience ? 
 
 Cleo. How come you now to have fuch an anxious regard 
 for what may be the opinion of the vulgar, whom at other 
 times you fo heartily defpife ? 
 
 Hor. All this is reafoning, and you know the thing will 
 not bear it : how can you be fo cruel ? 
 
 Cleo, How can you be fo backward in difcovering and 
 owning the paffion, that is w confpicuoufly the occaiion of 
 all this, the palpable and only caufe of the uneafinefs we 
 feel at the thoughts of being defpifed? 
 
 Hor. I am not feniible of any ; and I declare to you, that 
 I feel nothing that moves me to fpeak as I do, but the fenfe 
 and principle of honour within me. 
 
 Cleo. Do you think that the lowefl of the mob, and the 
 fcumofthe people, are pofTefTed of any part of this prin- 
 ciple ? 
 
 Hor. No, indeed. 
 
 Cleo. Or that among the higher! quality, infants can be af- 
 fected with it before they are two years old ? 
 
 Hor. Ridiculous. 
 
 Cleo. If neither of thefe are affecled with it, then honour 
 mould be either adventitious, and acquired by culture ; or, 
 if contained in the blood of thofe that are nobly born, imper- 
 ceptible until the years of difcretion ; and neither of them 
 can be faid of the principle, the palpable caufe I fpeak of. 
 For we plainly fee on the one hand, that fcorn and ridicule 
 are intollerable to the poorer!; wretches, and that there is no 
 beggar fo mean or milerable, that contempt will never offend 
 him : on the other, that human creatures are fo early in- 
 fluenced by the fenfe of fhame ; that children, by being 
 laughed at and made a jell of, may be fet a crying before 
 they can well fpeak or go. Whatever, therefore, this mighty 
 principle is, it is born with us, and belongs to our nature : 
 are you unacquainted with the proper, genuine, homely 
 name of it ? 
 
 Hor. I know you call it pride. I will not difpute with 
 you about principles and origins of things ; but that high 
 value which men of honour fet upon themielves as fuch, and 
 Y 2 
 
324 THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 which is no more than what is due to the dignity of our na- 
 ture, when well cultivated, is the foundation of their charac- 
 ter, and a fupport to them in all difficulties, that is of great 
 ufe to the fociety. The defire, likewife, of being thought well 
 of, and the love of praife and even of glory are commendable 
 qualities, that are beneficial to die public. The truth of 
 this is manifeft in the reverie ; all fhamelefs people that are 
 below infamy, and matter not what is laid or thought of 
 them, thefe, we fee nobody can truft; they Hick at nothing, 
 and if they can but avoid death, pain, and penal laws, are 
 always ready to execute all manner of mifchief, their felfifh- 
 nefs or any brutal appetite fhall prompt them to, without re- 
 gard to the opinion of others : fuch are juftly called men of 
 no principles, becaufe they have nothing of any ftrength 
 within, that can either fpur them on to brave and virtuous ac- 
 tions, or reftrain them from villany and bafenefs. 
 
 Cleo. The firft part of yomvaffertion is very true, when that 
 high value, that defire, and that love are kept within the 
 bounds of reafon : But, in the fecond, there is a mirtake ; 
 thofe whom we call fhamelefs, are not more derlitute of 
 pride, than their betters. Remember what I have faid of 
 education, and the power of it; you may add inclinations, 
 knowledge, and circumltances ; for, as men dirfer in all 
 thefe, fo they are diiferently influenced and wrought upon 
 by all the paffions. There is nothing that fome men may 
 not be taught to be afhamed of. The fame pafiion that 
 makes the well-bred man, and prudent officer, value and fe- 
 cretly admire themfelves for the honour and fidelity they 
 difplay, may make the rake and fcoundrel brag of their 
 vices, and boait of their impudence. 
 
 Hor. I cannot comprehend, how a man of honour, and 
 one that has hone, fhould both act from the fame principle. 
 
 Cleo. This is not more ftrange, than that felf-love may 
 make a man deftroy himfelf, yet nothing is more true ; and 
 it is as certain, that fome men indulge their pride in being 
 fhamelefs. To underiland human nature, requires ftudy and 
 application, as well as penetration and fagacity. All paf- 
 lions and inftincts in general, were given to all animals for 
 fome wife end, tending to the prefervation and happinefs of 
 themfelves, or their fpecies : It is our duty to hinder them 
 from being detrimental or offenfive to any part of the focie- 
 ty ; but why fhould we be afhamed of having them ? The 
 inftind of high value, which every individual has for him- 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. %1* 
 
 felf, is a very ufeful paffion : but a paffion it is, and though 
 I could demonilrate, that we fhould be miferable creatures 
 without it, yet, when it is exceilive, it often is the caufe of 
 endlefs mifchiefs. 
 
 Hor. But in well-bred people it never is exceffive. 
 
 Geo. You mean the excefs of it. never appears outwardly : 
 But we ought never to judge of its height or ftrength from 
 what we can difcover of the paffion itfelf, but from the ef- 
 fects it produces : It often is moll fuperlative, where it is 
 mod concealed ; and nothing increafes and influences it 
 more, than what is called a refined education, and a conti- 
 nual commerce with the beau monde : The only thing that 
 can fubdue, or any ways curb it, is a firict, adherence to the 
 Chriftian religion. 
 
 Hor. Why do you fo much infill upon it, that this prin- 
 ciple, this value men fet upon themfelves, is a paffion ? And 
 why will you choofe to call it pride rather than honour ? 
 
 Geo. For very good reafons. Fixing this principle in hu- 
 man nature, in the firil place, takes away all ambiguity : 
 Who is a man of honour, and who is not, is often a difput- 
 able point; and, among thofe that are allowed to be fuch, 
 the feveral degrees of flri&nefs, in complying with the rules 
 of it, make great difference in the principle itfelf. But a 
 paffion that is born with us is unalterable, and part of our 
 frame, whether it exerts itfelf or not : The elTence of it is 
 the fame, which way foever it is taught to turn. Honour is 
 the undoubted offspring of pride, but the fame caufe pro- 
 duces not always the fame effect. All the vulgar, children, 
 favages, and many others that are not affected with any 
 fenfe of honour, have all of them pride, as is evident from 
 the fymptoms. Secondly, it helps us to explain the pheno- 
 mena that occur in quarrels and affronts, and the behaviour- 
 of men of honour on thefe occafions, which cannot be ac- 
 counted for any other way. But what moves me to it moil 
 of all, is the prodigious force and exorbitant power of this 
 principle of ielf efteem, where it has been long gratified 
 and encouraged. You remember the concern you was un- 
 der, when you had that duel upon your hands, and the great 
 .reluctancy you felt in doing what you did ; you knew it to 
 be a crime, and, at the fame time, had a llrong averfion to 
 it ; what fecret power was it that fubdued your will, and 
 gained the victory over that great reluctancy you felt 
 agajnft it ? You call it honour, and the too Uriel:, though 
 
 Y3 
 
J 
 
 2f> THE SECOND DIALOGUE* 
 
 unavoidable adherence to the rules of it: But men never 
 commit violence upon themfelves, but in ftruggling with the 
 paffions that are innate and natural to them. Honour is ac- 
 quired, and the rules of it are taught : Nothing adventi- 
 tious, that fome are porTerTed, and others destitute of, could 
 raife fuch interline wars and dire commotions within us ; 
 and therefore, whatever is the caufe that can thus divide us 
 againfl: ' ourfelves, and, as it were, rend human nature in 
 twain, muft be part of us ; and, to fpeak without difguife, 
 the ftruggle in your breaft was between the fear of fhame 
 and the fear of death : had this latter not been fo confider- 
 able, your ftruggle would have been lefs : Still the firft con- 
 quered, becaufe it was ftrongeft ; but if your fear of ihame 
 had been inferior to that of death, you would have reafoned 
 otherwife, and found out fome means or other to have avoid- 
 ed fighting. 
 
 Hor. This is a ftrange anatomy of human nature. 
 
 Cleo. Yet, for want of making ufe of it, the fubject we are 
 upon is not rightly underfrood by many ; and men have dif- 
 courfed very inconfiftently on duelling. A divine who wrote 
 a dialogue to explode that practice, faid, that tjiofe who 
 were guilty of it, had miftaken notions of, and went by falfe 
 rules of honour ; for which my friend juftly ridiculed him, 
 faying, You may as well deny, that it is the fafhion what you 
 fee every body wear, as to fay, that demanding and giving fa- 
 tisfa&ion, is againfl the laws of true honour. Had that man 
 underflood human nature, he could not have committed 
 fuch a blunder : But when once he took it for granted, that 
 honour is a juft and good principle, without inquiring into the 
 caufe of ic among the paffions, it is impoffible he ihould have 
 accounted for duelling, in a Chriftian pretending to act from 
 fuch a principle ; and therefore, in another place, with the 
 fame juftice, he faid, that a man who had accepted a chal- 
 lenge was not qualified to make his will, becaufe he was not 
 compos mentis : He might, with greater mow of reafon, have 
 faid, that he was bewitched. 
 
 Hor. Why fo? 
 
 Cieo. Becaufe people out of their wits, as they think at 
 random, fo commonly they act and talk incoherently ; but 
 when a man of known fobriety, and who fhows no manner 
 of d:icompofure, difcourfes and behaves himfelf in every 
 thing, as he is ufed to do ; and, moreover, realons on points 
 of great nicety with the utmofl accuracy, it is impoffible 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 327 
 
 we fhould take him to be either a fool or a madman ; and 
 when fuch a perfon, in an affair of the higher!: importance, 
 acts fo diametrically againft his intereft, that a child can fee 
 it, and with deliberation purfues his own destruction, thofe 
 who believe that there are malignant fpirits of that power, 
 would rather imagine that he was led away by fome en- 
 chantment, and over-ruled by the enemy of mankind, than 
 they would fancy a palpable abfurdity : But even the fup- 
 pofition of that is not fumcient to folve the difficulty, with- 
 out the help of that ftrange anatomy. For what fpell or 
 witchcraft is there, by the delufion of which a man of under- 
 ftanding mall, keeping his fenfes, miftake an imaginary duty 
 for an unavoidable neceflity to break all real obligations ? 
 But let us wave all ties of religion, as we 1 ! as human laws, 
 and the perfon we fpeak of to be a profelfed Epicure, that 
 has no thoughts of futurity ; what violent power of darknefs 
 is it, that can force and compel a peaceable quiet man, nei- 
 ther inured to hardfhip, nor valiant by nature, to quit his be- 
 loved eafe and fee urity ; and feemingly by choice go fight 
 in cold blood for his life, with this comfortable reflection, 
 that nothing forfeits it fo certainly as the entire defeat of his 
 enemy? 
 
 Hor. As to the law and the punifhment, perfons of quali- 
 ty have little to fear of that. 
 
 Cleo. You cannot fay that in France, nor the Seven Pro- 
 vinces. But men of honour, that are of much lower ranks, 
 decline duelling no more than thofe of the higheii quality. 
 How many examples have we, even here, of gallant men, 
 that have fuffered for it either by exile or the hangman ! A 
 man of honour mud fear nothing : Do but confider every 
 obftacle which this principle of felf-efteem has conquered at 
 one time or other ; and then tell me whether it muft not be 
 fomething more than magic, by the fafcination of which a 
 man oftafte and judgment, in health and vigour, as well as 
 the flower of his age, can be tempted, and actually drawn 
 from the embraces of a wife he loves, and the endearments 
 of hopeful children, from polite conversation and the charms 
 of friendihip, from the faireft pofTeffions and the happy en- 
 joyment of all worldly pleasures, to an unwarrantable com- 
 bat, of which the victor muft be expofed either to an igno- 
 minious death, or perpetual banifhment. 
 
 Hor. When things are fet in this light, I confefs it is very 
 Y 4 
 
3^8 THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 unaccountable : but will your fyftem explain this ; can you 
 make it clear yourfelf ? 
 
 Cleo. Immediately, as the fun : If you will but obferve two 
 things, that mufl neceiTarily follow, and are manifefl from 
 what I have demonftrated already. The firft is, that the 
 fear of fhame, in general, is a matter of caprice, that, varies 
 with modes and cuftoms, and may be fixed on different ob- 
 jects, according to the different leffons we have received, and 
 the precepts we are imbued with ; and that this is the rea- 
 fon, why this fear of fhame, as it is either well or ill placed, 
 fometimes produces very good effects, and at others is the 
 .caufe of the mo ft enormous crimes. Secondly, that, though 
 fhame is a real pallion, the evil to be feared from it is alto- 
 gether imaginary, and has no exiftence but in our own re- 
 flection on the opinion of others. 
 
 Hor. But there are real and fubftantial mifchiefs which a 
 man may draw upon himielf, by miibehaving in point of ho- 
 nour ; it may ruin his fortune, and all hopes of preferment: 
 An officer may be broken for putting up an affront : No 
 body will ferve with a coward, and who will employ him? 
 
 Cleo. What you urge is altogether out of the queftion ; at 
 leaft it was in your own cafe ; you had norhing to dread or 
 apprehend but the bare opinion of men. Befides, when the 
 fear of fhame is fuperior to that of death, it is likewife fupe- 
 rior to, and outweighs all other confiderations ; as has been 
 fufficiently proved : But when the fear of fhame is not vio- 
 lent enough to curb the fear of death, nothing elfe can ; and 
 whenever the fear of death is ftronger than that of fhame, 
 there is no confideration that will make a man fight in cold 
 blood, or comply with any of the laws of honour, where life 
 Is at ftake. Therefore, whoever acts from the fear of fhame 
 as a motive, in fending and accepting of challenges, muft be 
 fenfible, on the one hand, that the mifchiefs he apprehends, 
 mould he difobey the tyrant, can only be the offspring of 
 his own thoughts ; and, on the other, that if he could be per- 
 fuaded any wife to leffen the great efteem and high value he 
 fets upon himfelf, his dread of fhame would likewife palpa- 
 bly diminifh. From all which, it is moft evident, that the 
 grand caufe of this diftracfion, the powerful enchanter we are 
 ieeking after, is pride, excefs of pride, that higheft pitch of 
 felf- efteem, to which feme men may be wound up by an 
 artful education, and the perpetual flatteries beftowed upon 
 pur fpecies, and the excellencies of our nature. This is the 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 329 
 
 forcerer, that is able to divert all other paffions from their na- 
 tural objects, and make a rational creature aihamed of what 
 is moif agreeable to his inclination, as well as his duty ; both 
 which the duellift owns, that he has knowingly acted againft. 
 Hor. What a wonderful machine, what an heterogenous 
 compound is man ! You have almofl conquered me. 
 
 ;. I aim at no victory, all I wiih for is to du ycu fer- 
 vice, in undeceiving you. 
 
 Hor. What is the reaibn that, in the fame perfon, the fear 
 of death fhould be fo glaringly confpicuous in lickneis, or a 
 n, and fo entirely well hid in a duel, and aU y en- 
 
 ments ? Pray, iolve that too. 
 Cleo. I will as well as I can : On all emergencies, where 
 reputation is thought to be concerned, the fear of ihame is 
 eifecluaily routed m men 01 honour, and immediately their 
 pride mines in to their alhiiance, and fummons all their 
 ftrength to fortify and fopport them 1:1 concealing the fear of 
 death ; by which extraordinary efforts, the latter, that is the 
 fear of death, is altogether furled, or, at leaft, kept out of 
 fight, and remains undifcovered. But in all other perils, in 
 which they do not think their honour engaged, their pride 
 lies dormant. And thus the fear of death, being checked 
 by nothing, appears without difguife. That this is the true 
 reafon, is manifeil from the different behaviour that is obferv- 
 ed in men of honour, according as they are either pretend- 
 ers to Chriifianity. or tainted with irreligion ; for there are of 
 both forts ; and you (hall fee, moif commonly at leatt, that 
 your efprits forts, and thole who would be thought to dis- 
 believe a future ftate (I fpeak of men oi honour), ihow the 
 greateit calmnefs and intrepidity in the fame dangers, where 
 the pretended believers among them, appear to be the moft 
 ruffled and pufillanimous. 
 
 . But why pretended believers? at that rate there are 
 no Chnrlians among the men of honour. 
 
 . I do not fee how they can be real believers. 
 
 \ ny for 
 :. Forthe fame reafon that a Roman Catholic cannot 
 be a good fubjecl, always to be depended upon, in a Pro- 
 it, or indeed any other country, but the dominions of 
 his Rolinefs. No fovereign can confide with fafety in a man's 
 allegiance, who owns and pays homage to another fuperior 
 power upon earth. 1 am lure you underftand me. 
 ffor. Too well. 
 
 6 
 
$3° THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. You may yoke a knight with a prebendary, and put 
 them together into the fame flail; but honour, and the 
 Chrifiian religion, make no couple, nee in undfede morantur, 
 any more than majefly and love. Look back on your own 
 conduct, and you mail find, that what you faid of the hand 
 of God was only a fhift, an evafion you made to ferve your 
 then prefent purpofe. On another occafion, you had faid 
 yefterday yourfelf, that Providence fuperintends and governs 
 evjfy thing without exception ; you mud, therefore, have 
 known, that the hand of God is as much to be feen in one 
 common accident in life, and in one misfortune, as it is in 
 another, that is not more extraordinary. A fevere fit of 
 ficknefs may be lefs fatal, than a flight fkirmiiTi between two 
 hoflile parties ; and, among men of honour, there is often as 
 much danger in a quarrel about nothing, as there can be in 
 the moll violent dorm. It is impoffible, therefore, that a man 
 of fenfe, who has a folid principle to go by, mould, in one 
 fort of danger, think it impiety not to fhow fear, and in ano- 
 ther be afhamed to be thought to have any. Do but confi- 
 der your own inconfifiency with yourfelf. At one time, to 
 juftify your fear of death, when pride is abfent, you become 
 religious on a fudden, and your confeience then is fo tender- 
 ly fcrupulous, that, to be undaunted under chaftifements 
 from the Almighty, feems no lefs to you than waging war 
 with Heaven ; and, at another, when honour calls, you 
 dare not knowingly and willingly break the moil pofitive 
 command of God, but likewife to own, that the greateft ca- 
 lamity which, in your opinion, can befal you, is, that the 
 world mould believe, or but fufpect of you, that you had any 
 fcruple about it. I defy the wit of man to' carry the affront 
 to the Divine Majefty higher. Barely to deny his being, is 
 not half fo daring, as it is to do this after you have owned 
 him to exifl. No Atheifm 
 
 Hor. Hold, Cleomenes ; I can no longer refill the force of 
 truth, and I am refolved to be better acquainted with myfelf 
 for the future. Let me become your pupil. 
 
 Cleo. Do not banter me, Horatio ; I do not pretend to in- 
 flrucl a man of your knowledge ; but if you will take my 
 advice, fearch into yourfelf with care and boldnefs, and, at 
 your leifure, perufe the book I recommended. 
 
 Hor. I promife you I will, and mall be glad to accept of 
 the handfome prefent I refufed : Pray, fend a fervant with it 
 to-morrow morning. 
 
THE SECOND DIALOGUE. 33X 
 
 Cleo. It is a trifle. You had better let one of yours go 
 with me now ; I fhall drive home directly. 
 
 Hor. I underftand your fcruple. It fhall be as you pleafe. 
 
 THE THIRD 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 ^ETWEES' 
 
 HORATIO AND CLEOMENES. 
 
 1 thank you for your book. 
 
 Cleo. Your acceptance of it I acknowledge as a great fa- 
 vour. 
 
 Hor. I confefs, that once I thought nobody could have 
 perfuaded me to read it ; but you managed me very fkilful- 
 ly, and nothing could have convinced me ib well as the in- 
 fiance of due] ling : The argument, a major i ad minus, ftruck 
 me, without your mentioning it. A paulon that can fub- 
 . due the fear of death, may blind a man's understanding, and 
 do almonY every thing elfe. 
 
 Qeo. It is incredible what ftrange, various, unaccountable, 
 and contradictory forms we may be fhaped into by a pafHon, 
 that is not to be gratified without being concealed, and ne- 
 ver enjoyed with greater ecftacy than when we are moil ful- 
 ly perfuaded, that it is well hid : and therefore, there is no 
 benevolence, or good nature, no amiable quality or focial vir- 
 tue, that may not be counterfeited by it ; and, in ihort, no 
 atchievement, good or bad, that the human body or mind 
 are capable of, which it may not feem to perform. As to its 
 blinding and infatuating the perfons poifefied with it to a 
 high degree, there is no doubt of it: for what ilrength of 
 ireafo , what judgment or penetration, has the great- 
 
 eu l;. tie pretends to any religion, to boatt of, after he 
 
 has o . - .mfelf to have been more terrified by groundiefs 
 
33 2 THE THIRD DIALOGUE, 
 
 apprebenfions, and an imaginaiy evil from vain impotent 
 men, whom he has never injured, than he was alarmed with 
 the jtift fears of a real punifhment from an all-wnfe and om- 
 nipotent God, whom he has highly offended ? 
 
 Hor. Bat your friend makes no fuch religious reflections : 
 he actually fpeaks in favour of duelling. 
 
 Geo. What, becaufe he would have the laws againft it as 
 fevere as poiuble, and nobody pardoned, without exception, 
 that offends that way ? 
 
 Hor. That indeed feems to difcourage it ; but he mows 
 the neceffity ~of keeping up that cuitom, to polifh and bright- 
 en fociety in general. 
 
 Geo. Do-not you fee the irony there? 
 
 Hor. No, indeed : he plainly demonftrates the ufefulnefs 
 of it, gives as good reaibns as it is poffible to invent, and 
 ihows how much converfation would fuller, if that practice 
 was abolifhed. 
 
 Geo. Can you think a man ferious on a fubject, when he 
 leaves it in the manner he does ? 
 
 Hor, I do not remember that. 
 
 Geo. Here is the book : I will look for the pafTage 
 
 Fray, read this. 
 
 Hor. It is ftrange, that a nation mould grudge to fee, per- 
 haps, half a dozen men facrificed in a twelvemonth, to ob- 
 tain fo valuable a blefiing, as the politenefs of manners, the 
 pleafure of converfation, and the happinefs of company in 
 general, that is often fo willing to expofe, and fometimes 
 lofes as many thoufancis in a few hours, without knowing « 
 whether it wall do any good or not. This, indeed, feems to 
 be faid with a fneer : but in what goes before he is very fe- 
 rious. 
 
 Geo. He is fo, when he fays that the practice of duelling, 
 that is the keeping up of the fafhion of it, contributes to the 
 politenefs of manners and pleafure of converfation, and this 
 is very true ; but that politenefs itfelf, and that pleafure, are 
 the things he laughs at and expofes throughout his book. 
 
 Hor. But who knows, what to make of a man, who re- 
 commends a thing very ferioufly in one page, and ridicules it 
 in the next ? 
 
 Geo. It is his opinion, that there is no folid principle to go 
 by but the Chnitian religion, and that few embrace it with 
 fincerity : always look upon him in this view, and you will 
 never find him inconfiitent with himfelf. Whenever at firft 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 333 
 
 fight he feems to be fo, look again, and upon nearer inquiry 
 you will find, that he is only pointing at, or labouring to 
 detect the inconfiftency of others with the principles they 
 pretend to. 
 
 Hor. He feems to have nothing lefs at heart than religion. 
 
 Cleo. That is true, and if he had appeared otherwife, he 
 would never have been read by the people whom he deiign- 
 ed his book for, the modern deifts and all the beau monde : It 
 is thofe he wants to come at. To the firft he lets forth the 
 origin and irifufficiency of virtue, and their own infmcerity 
 in the practice of it : to the reft he mows the folly of vice 
 and pleafure, the vanity of worldly greatnefs, and the hypo- 
 crify of all thofe divines, who, pretending to preach the gof- 
 pel, give and take allowances that are inconfiftent with, and 
 quite contrary to the precepts of it. 
 
 Hor. But this is not the opinion the world has of the book; 
 it is commonly imagined, that it is wrote for the encourage- 
 ment of vice, and to debauch the nation. 
 
 Cleo. Have you found any fuch thing in it ? 
 
 Hor. To fpeak my conference, I muft confefs, I have not : 
 vice is expofed in it, and laughed at; but it ridicules war and 
 martial courage, as well as honour and every thing elfe. 
 
 Cleo. Pardon me, religion is ridiculed in no part of it. 
 
 Hor. But if it is a good book, why then' are fo many of the 
 clergy fo much againit it as they are? 
 
 Cleo. For the reafon I have given you: my friend has ex- 
 pofed their lives, Out he has done* it in fuch a manner, that 
 nobody can fay he has wronged them, or treated them harfh- 
 ly. People are never more vexed, than when the thing 
 that offends "them, is what, they muft not complain of: they 
 give the book an ill name becaufe they are angry ; but it is 
 not their intereft, to tell you the the true reafon why they 
 are fo. I could draw you a parallel cafe that would clear up 
 this matter, if you would have patience to hear me, which, as 
 you are a great admirer of operas, I can hardly expect. 
 
 Hor. Any thing to be informed. 
 
 Cleo. I always had fuch an averfion to eunuchs, as no fine 
 finging or acting of any of them has yet been able to con- 
 : when I hear a feminine voice, I look for a petticoat ; 
 and I perfectly loath' the fight of thofe iexlefs "animals. Sup- 
 pole that a man with the fame diilike to them had wit at 
 will, and a mind to laih that abominable piece of luxury, by 
 which men are taught in cold blood to fppil males for diver- 
 
334 THE THIRD DIALOGUE, 
 
 Hon, and out of wantonnefs to make wafte of their own fpe- 
 cies. In order to this, we will fay, he takes a handle from 
 the operation itfelf ; he defcribes and treats it in the moil in- 
 offenfive manner ; then mows the narrow bounds of human 
 knowledge, and the fmall affiftance we can have, either from 
 diffection or philofophy, or any part of the mathematics, to 
 trace and penetrate into the caufe a priori, why this deftroy- 
 ing of manhood mould have that furpriiing effect upon the 
 voice ; and afterwards demonftrates, how fure we are a p'ofte- 
 riori, that it has a considerable influence, not only on the 
 pharinx, the glands and mufcles of the throat, but like wife 
 the windpipe, and the lungs themfelves, and in fhort on the 
 whole mafs of blood, confequently all the juices of the 
 body, and every fibre in it. He might fay like wife, that 
 no honey, no preparations of fugar, raifins, or fpermaceti ; 
 no emulfions, lozenges or other medicines, cooling or baU 
 famic ; no bleeding, no temperance or choice in eatables ; 
 no abflinence from women, from wine, and every thing 
 that is hot, fharp or fpirituous, were of that efficacy to 
 preferve, fweeten, and ilrengchen the voice ; he might infill 
 upon it, that nothing could do this fo effectually as caftra- 
 tion. N For a blind to his main icope, and to amufe his rea- 
 ders, he might fpeak of this practice, as made ufe of for other 
 purpofes ; that it had been inflicted as a folemn punifhment 
 for analogous crimes ; that others had voluntarily fubmitted 
 to it, to preferve health and prolong life ; whilft the Romans, 
 by Cellar's teftimony, thought it more cruel than death, morte 
 gravius. How it had been ufed fometimes by way of re- 
 venge ; and then fay fomething in pity of poor Abelard; at. 
 other times for precaution; and then relate "the ftory of 
 Combabus and Stratonice : with fcraps from Martial, Juve- 
 nal, and other poets, he might interlard it, and from a thou- 
 fand pleafant things that have been faid on the fubject, he 
 might pick out the moft diverting to embelhih the whole. 
 His delign being fatire, he would blame our fondnefs for 
 thefe caitrati, and ridicule the age in which a brave Engliflv 
 nobleman and a general officer, ferves his country at the ha- 
 zard of his life, a whole twelvemonth, for lefs pay than an 
 Italian no-man of fcoundrel extraction receives, for now and 
 then ringing a fong in great fafety, during only the winter- 
 feafon. He would laugh at the careffes and the court that 
 are made to them by perfons of the firft quality, who profti- 
 tute their familiarity with thefe moft abject wretches, and 
 
 5 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 335 
 
 mifplace the honour and civilities only due to their equals, 
 on things that are no part of the creation, and owe their be- 
 ing to the furgeon ; animals fo contemptible, that they can 
 curfe their maker without ingratitude. If he fhould call this 
 book, the Eunuch is the Man ; as foon as I heard the title, 
 before I faw the book, I fhould underftand by it, that 
 eunuchs were now efteemed, that they were in falhion and 
 in the public favour, and confidering that a eunuch is in re- 
 ality not a man, I fhould think it was a banter upon eunuchs, 
 or a fatire againft thofe, who had a greater value for them 
 than they deferved. But if the gentlemen of the academy 
 of mufic, difpleafed at the freedom they were treated with, 
 fhould take it ill, that a paultry fcribbler mould interfere and 
 pretend to cenfure their diveriion, as well as they might; if 
 they fhould be very angry, and ftudy to do him a mifchief, 
 •and accordingly, not having much to fay in behalf of 
 eunuchs, not touch upon any thing the author had faid 
 againft their pleafure, but reprefent him to the world as an 
 advocate for caftration, and endeavour to draw the public 
 odium upon him by quotations taken from him proper for 
 that purpofe, it would not be difficult to raife a clamour 
 againft the author, or find a grand jury to prefent his book. 
 
 Hor. The fimile holds very well as to the injuitice of the 
 accufation, and the iniincerity of the complaint ; but is it as 
 true, that luxury will render a nation flourifhing, and that 
 private vices are public benefits, as that caftration preferves 
 and ftrengthens the voice ? 
 
 Cleo. With the redactions my friend requires, I believe it 
 is, and the cafes are exactly alike. Nothing is more effec- 
 tual to preferve, mend, and ftrengthen a fine voice in youth 
 than caftration : the queftion is not, whether this is true, but 
 whether it is eligible ; whether a fine voice is an equivalent 
 for the lofs, and whether a man would prefer the fatisfaction 
 of ringing, and the advantages that may accrue from it, to 
 the comforts of marriage, and the pleafure of pofterity, of 
 which enjoyments it deftroys the poffibility. In like man- 
 ner, my friend demonftrates, in the firft place, that the na- 
 tional happinefs which the generality wifh and pray for, is 
 wealth and power, glory and worldly greatnefs ; to live in 
 eafe, in affluence and fplendour at home, and to be feared, 
 courted, and efteemed abroad : in the fecond, that fuch a fe- 
 licity is not to be attained to without avarice, profufenefs, 
 pride, envy, ambition, and other vices. The latter being 
 
336 THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 made evident beyond contradiction, the queflion is not, whe- 
 ther it is true, but whether this happinefs is worth having at 
 the rate it is only to be had at, and whether any thing ought 
 to be wifhed for, which a nation cannot enjoy, unlefs the ge- 
 nerality of them are vicious. This he offers to the conii- 
 deration of Chriftians, and men who pretend to have re- 
 nounced the world, with all the pomp and vanity of it. 
 
 Hor. How does it appear that the author addreffes him- 
 felftofuch? 
 
 Cleo. From his writing it in Englifh, and publifhing it in 
 London. But have you read it through yet ? 
 
 Hor. Twice : there are many things I like very well, but 
 I am not pleafed with the whole. 
 
 Cleo. What objection, have you againilit? 
 
 Hor. It has diminifhed the pleafure^i had in reading a 
 much better book. Lord Shaftfbury is my favourite author : 
 I can take delight in entliufiafm ; but the charms of it ceafe 
 as foon as I am told what it is 1 enjoy. Since we are fuch 
 odd creatures, why mould we not make the molt of it ? 
 
 Cleo. I thought you was refolved to be better acquainted 
 with yourfelf, and to fearch into your heart with care and 
 boldnefs. 
 
 Hor. That is a cruel thing ; I tried it three times fince I 
 faw you laft, till it put me into a fweat, and then I was forced 
 to leave off. 
 
 Cleo. You mould try again, and ufe yourfelf by degrees to 
 think abftraclly, and then the book will be a great help to 
 you. 
 
 Hor. To confound me it will : it makes a jeft of all polite- 
 nefs and good manners. 
 
 Cleo. Excufe me, Sir, it only tells us, what they are. 
 
 Hor. It tells us, that all good manners confift in flattering 
 the pride of others, and concealing our own. Is not that a 
 horrid thing ? 
 
 Cleo. But is it not true ? 
 
 Hor. As foon as I had read that paffage, it ftruck me : 
 down I laid the book, and tried in above fifty inftances, 
 fometimes of civility, and fometimes of ill manners, whether 
 it would anfwer or not, and I profefs that it held good in 
 every one. 
 
 Cleo. And fo it would if you tried till doomfday, 
 
 Hor, But is not that provoking ? I would give a hundred 
 
 I 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 337 
 
 uineas with all my heart, that I did not know it. I cannot 
 adure to fee fo much of my own nakednefs. 
 Cleo. I never met with fuch an open enmity to truth in a 
 \an of honour before. 
 Eor. You -ihall be as fevere upon me as you pleafe ; what 
 fay is fact. But fince I am got in \o far,-I muft go through 
 ith it now: there are fifty things that I want to be inforni- 
 1 about. 
 Cleo. Name them, pray ; if I can be of any fervice to you, 
 (hall reckon it as a great honour ; I am perfectly well ac- 
 quainted with the author's fentiments. 
 
 Eor. I have twenty queftions to afk about pride, and I do 
 ot know where to begin. There is another thing I do not 
 underftand ; which is, that there can be no virtue without 
 felf- denial. 
 
 Cleo. This was the opinion of ail the ancients. Lord 
 Shaftfbury was the fifft that maintained the contrary. 
 
 Ror. But are there no perfons in the world that are good 
 by choice ? 
 
 Cleo. Yes ; but then they are direcied in that choice by 
 reafon and experience, and not by nature, I mean, not by 
 untaught nature : but there is an ambiguity in the word 
 good which I would avoid ; let us nick to that of virtuous, 
 and then I affirm, that no aclion is fuch, which does not 
 fuppofe and point at fome conqueft or other, fomc victory 
 great or fniall over untaught nature ; otherwiie the epithet 
 is improper. 
 
 Eor. But if by the help of a careful education, this victory 
 is obtained, when we are young, may we not be virtuous af- 
 terwards voluntarily and with p.leafure ? 
 
 Cleo. Yes, if it really was obtained: but how mall we be 
 fure of this, and what reafon have we to believe that it ever 
 was ? when it is evident, that from our infancy, inilead of 
 endeavouring to conquer our appetites, we have always been 
 taught, and have taken pains ourfelves to conceal them ; and 
 we are confeious within, that whatever alterations have been 
 made in our manners and our circumflances, the pailions 
 themfeives always remained ? The fyitem that virtue requires 
 to felf-denial, is, as my friend has juftly obferved, a vail in- 
 let to hypocrify : it will, on all accounts, furnifh men with 
 a more obvious handle, and a greater opportunity of coun- 
 terfeiting the love of fociety, and regard to the public, than 
 ever they could have received from the contrary doctrine, 
 
 Z 
 
33 S THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 viz. that there is is no merit but in the conqueft of the paf- 
 iions, nor any virtue without apparent felf-denial. Let us 
 afk thofe that have had long experience, and are well fkilled 
 in human affairs, whether they have found the generality of 
 men fuch impartial judges of themfelves, as never to think 
 better of their oivn worth than it deferred, or fo candid in 
 the acknowledgment of their hidden faults and flips, they 
 could never be convinced of, that there is no fear they 
 ihould ever ftifle or deny them. Where is the man that has 
 at no time covered his failings, and fcreened himfelf with falfe 
 appearances, or never pretended to act from principles of 
 focial virtue, and his regard to others, when he knew in his 
 heart that his greatefl care had been to oblige himfelf? The 
 belt of us fometimes receive applaufe without undeceiving 
 thofe who give it ; though, at the fame time, we are con- 
 fcious that the actions, for which we fuffer ourfelves to be 
 thought well of, are the refult of a powerful frailty in our 
 nature, that has often been prejudicial to us, and which 
 we have wifhed a thoufand times in vain, that we could 
 have conquered. The fame motives may produce very dif- 
 ferent actions, as men differ in temper and circumftances. 
 Perfons of an eafy fortune may appear virtuous, from the 
 fame turn of mind that would (how their frailty if they were 
 poor. If we would know the world, we muft look into it. 
 You take ?no delight in the occurrences of low life ; but if 
 we always remain among peribns of quality, and extend our 
 inquiries no farther, the tranfaclions there will not furnifli us 
 with a fulllcient knowledge of every thing that belongs to 
 our nature. There are, among the middling people, men of 
 low circumftances, tolerably well educated, that fet out 
 with the fame flock of virtues and vices, and though equally 
 qualiiied, meet with very diiferent fuccefs ; viiibly owing to 
 the difference in their temper. Let us take a view of two 
 perfons bred to the Tame buhnefs, that have nothing but 
 their parts ancl the world before them, launching out with 
 the fame helps and difadvantages : let there be no difference 
 between them, but in their temper ; the one acf ive, and the 
 other indolent. The latter will never get an eftate by his 
 own induilry, though his profeffion be gainful, and himfelf 
 mailer of it. Chance, or ibme uncommon accident, may be 
 the occafion of great alterations in him, but without that he 
 will hardly ever raife himfelf to mediocrity. Unlefs his pride 
 affects him in an extraordinary manner, he muft always be 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 339 
 
 poor, arid nothing but fome fhare of vanity can hinder him 
 from being defpicably fo. If he be a man of fenfe, he will 
 be ftrictly honeft, and a middling flock of covetoufnefs will 
 never divert him from it. In the active ftirring man, that 
 is eafily reconciled to the buttle of the world, we fhall dif- 
 cover quite different fymptoms, under the fame circum- 
 fiances ; and a very little avarice will egg him on to purfue 
 his aim with eagernefs and affiduity : fmall fcruples are no 
 oppofition to him ; where fmcerity will not ferve, he ufes 
 artifice ; and in compafiing his ends, the greater! ufe he will 
 make of his good fenfe will be, to preferve as much as is 
 poflible, the appearance of honefty ; when his interefl obliges 
 him to deviate from it. To get wealth, or even a livelihood 
 by arts and fciences, it is not fufficient to underftand them : 
 it is a duty incumbent on all men, who have their maintain- 
 ance to feek, to make known and forward themfelves in the 
 world, as far as decency allows of, without bragging of them- 
 ti felves, or doing prejudice to others : here the indolent man 
 is very deficient and wanting to himfelf ; but feldom will 
 own his fault, and often blames the public for not making 
 ufe of him, and encouraging that merit, which they never 
 were acquainted with, and himfelf perhaps took pleafure to 
 conceal ; and though you convince him of his error, and 
 that he has neglected even the mod warrantable methods of 
 foliciting employment, he will endeavour to colour over his 
 frailty with the appearance of virtue ; and what is altogether 
 owing to his too eafy temper, and an excemve fondnefs for 
 the calmnefs of his mind, he will afcribe to his modelty and 
 the great averfion he has to impudence and boafting. The 
 man of a contrary temper trufts not to his merit only, or the 
 fetting it off to the beft advantage ; he takes pains to height- 
 en it in the opinion of others, and make his abilities feem 
 greater than he knows them to be. As it is counted folly 
 for a man to proclaim his own excellencies, and fpeak mag- 
 nificently of himfelf, fo his chief bufinefs is to feek acquain- 
 tance, and make friends on purpofe to do it for him: all 
 , other pafiions he facrifices to his ambition; he laughs at dif- 
 appointments, is inured to refufals, and no repulie difmays 
 him : this renders the whole man always flexible to his inte- 
 refl ; he can defraud his body of neceffaries, and allow no 
 tranquillity to his mind ; and counterfeit, if it will ferve his 
 turn, temperance, ehaflity, Companion, and piety itfelf, 
 without one grain of virtue or. religion: his endeavours to 
 
54° THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 advance his fortune perjm & nef&f are alwajrs reftlefs, and 
 have no bound-, but where he is obliged to act openly, and 
 : .::n to fear the cenfure of the world. It is very di- 
 verting to fee how, in the different perfdns I fpeak of, na- 
 tural will warp and model the very paiTions to its own 
 bias : pride, for example, has not the lame, but aim oil a 
 :e contrary efiecf. on the one to what it has on the other : 
 ftkring active man it makes in love with finery, clothes, 
 turmmre, eqi sliding, and every thing his fuperi- 
 ors enjoy : the other it renders fallen, and perhaps morofe ; 
 and if he has wit, prone to it-tire, though he be ctherwiie a 
 goood^natured man. . Self-love, in every individual, ever be- 
 if in ibothing and flattering the darling inclination ; 
 .ii us the difmal fide of the profpect ; and 
 the mdalentmanin fach chcumltances, finding nothing pleaf- 
 ing without, turns his view inward upon himfelf; and there, 
 :ing on every thing with great indulgence, admires and 
 : ; own parts, whether natural or acquired : 
 ce he is eatily induced to defpife all others who have not 
 the fame good qualifications, eipecially the powerful, and 
 thy, whom yet he never hates or envies with any vio- 
 lence ; becauie that would ruffle his temper. All things that 
 are difficult he looks upon as impoffible, which makes him 
 tkfpair of meliorating his condition ; and as he has no pof- 
 >as, and his geltings will but jiift maintain him in a low 
 ion of life, fo his good feme, it he would enjoy lb much 
 as \\ ranee of bappinefs, mud neceilanly put him 
 upon two things : to be frugal, and pretend to have no va- 
 lue for i ; either, he mud be blown 
 sop, and h idabiy d;icovercd. 
 
 th } our cbfervations, and the know- 
 nd ; but pray, is not the frugal! - 
 
 ik not. 
 here there is but a fmall income, frugality is built 
 iipon andintl: ere is an apparent feif-denial, 
 
 without which an indolent man that has no value for m< 
 cam: lent men, that have no 
 
 regard for wealth, reduced to beggary, as it often happens, 
 it is - nly for want of this virtue. 
 
 Cko. 1 told you before, that the indolent man, fetting 
 out as lie did, would be poor ; and that nothing but fome 
 fhare could hinder him from being defpicably fo. 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. . 34I 
 
 A firong fear of fhame may gain fo i.iiich upon the indolence 
 of a man of fenfe, that he will belli r himfelf luliiciently to 
 efcape contempt ; but it will hardly make him do any more ; 
 therefore he embraces frugality, as being initrumental and 
 affifting to hirn in procuring his jummum bonum, the darling 
 quiet of his eafy mind; whereas, the -active man, with the 
 fame fhare of vanity, would do any thing rather than fubmic 
 to the fame frugality, unlets his avarice ibrced him to it. 
 Frugality is no virtue, when it is impofed upon us by any 
 of the paffions, and the contempt of riches is feldom lincere. 
 I have known men of plentiful eirates, that, on account of 
 poilerity, or other warrantable views of employing their 
 money, were laving, and more penurious, than they would 
 have been, if their wealth had been greater : but I never yet 
 found a frugal man, without avarice cr neceflity. And 
 again, there are innumerable fpendthrifcs, i a villi and extra- 
 vagant to a high degree, who feem not to have the lead re- 
 gard to money, whilft they have any to fling away : but 
 thefe wretches are the leall capable of bearing poverty- of 
 any, and the money once gone, hourly diibover how un- 
 eafy, impatient, and miferable they are without it. But 
 what feveral in all ages have made pretence to, the contempt 
 of riches, is more fcarce than is commonly imagined. To fee 
 a man of a very good eftate, in health and itrength of body 
 and mind, one that has no reafon to complain of the world 
 or fortune, actually defpife both, and embrace a voluntary 
 poverty, for a laudable purpofe, is a great rarity. I know 
 but one in all antiquity, to whom all this may be applied 
 with ftrictnefs of truth. 
 
 Hor. Who is that, pray ? 
 
 Cleo. Anaxagoras of Clazomene in Ionia : He was very 
 rich, of noble extraction, and admired for his great capa- 
 city: he divided and gave away his eftate among his rela- 
 tions, and refufed to meddle with the adrniniitration of pub- 
 lic affairs that was offered him, for no other reafon, than that 
 he might have leifure for contemplation of the works of na- 
 ture, and the ftudy of philofophy. 
 
 Hor. To me it feems to be more difficult to be virtuous 
 without money, than with : it is fenieleis for a man to be 
 poor, when he can help it, and if I faw any body choofe it, 
 when he might as lawfully be rich, I would think him to be 
 diffracted. 
 
 1 3 
 
34 2 *HE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. But you would not think him fo, if you law him 
 fell his eitate, and give the money to the poor : you know 
 where that was required. 
 
 Her. It is not required of us. 
 
 Cleo. Perhaps not : but what fay you to renouncing the 
 world, and the folemn promife we have made of it ? 
 
 Her. In a literal ienit that is impoflihle, uniefs we go out 
 of it; and therefore I do not think, that to renounce the 
 world lignirles any more, than not to comply with the vici- 
 ous, wicked part of it. 
 
 Ceo. I did not expect a more rigid conitruction from you, 
 though it is certain, that wealth and power are great fnares, 
 and itrong impediments to all Chriftian virtue: but the ge- 
 rahty of mankind, that have any thing to lofe, are of your 
 opinion ; and let us bar faints and madmen, we (hall find 
 everywhere, that thofe who pretend to undervalue, and are 
 always haranguing againft wealth, are generally poor and 
 indolent. But who can blame them? They act in their 
 own defence ; nobody that could help it would ever be 
 laughed at ; for it mud be owned, that of all the hardihips 
 ot poverty, it is that which is the mod intolerable. 
 
 Nil ha ertas durius in fe, 
 Qtfara quod ridiculos homines faciat. 
 
 In the very fatisfaction that is enjoyed by thofe who excel 
 in, or are poiYeiVed of things valuable, there is interwoven a 
 fpice of contempt for others, that are deftitute of them, 
 which nothing keeps from public view, but a mixture of 
 pity and good manners. Whoever denies this, let them con- 
 lult within, and examine whether it is net the fame with hap- 
 pinefs, as what Seneca fays of the reverie, nemo eft mifer nljl 
 comparatus. The contempt and ridicule I fpeak of, is, without 
 doubt, what all men of feme and education endeavour to 
 avoid or diiappoint. Now, look upon the behaviour of the 
 two contrary tempers before us, and mind how differently 
 they fet about this talk, every one fuitably to his own incli- 
 nation. The man of action, you fee, leaves no itone un- 
 turned to acquire quod oportet habere : but this is impoffible 
 for the indolent ; he cannot Itir ; his idol ties him down 
 hand and foot ; and, therefore, the eaiielt, and, indeed the 
 only thing he has left, is to quarrel with the. world, and find 
 out arguments to depreciate what others value themkivev 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 343 
 
 Hor. I now plainly fee, how pride and good fenfe muft put 
 an indolent man. that is poor, upon frugality ; and likewife 
 the reafon, why they will make him affect to be content, and 
 feem pleafed with his low condition : for, if he will not be 
 frugal, want and mifery are at the door: and if he mows 
 any fondnefs for riches, or a more ample way of living, he 
 lofes the only plea he has for his darling frailty, and imme- 
 diately he will be aiked, why he does not exert himfelf in a 
 better manner^ and he will be continually told of the op- 
 portunities he neglech. 
 
 Cko. It is evident, then, that the true reafons, why men 
 fpeak againft things, are not always writ upon their foreheads. 
 
 thr. But after all this quiet eaiy temper, this indolence 
 you talk of, is it not what, in plain Ehglifli, we call lazinefs? 
 
 Cleo. Not at all ; it implies no floth, or averlion to la- 
 bour : an indolent man may be very diligent, though he 
 cannot be induftrious : he will take up with things below 
 him, if they come in his way ; he will work in a garret, or 
 any where elfe, remote from public view, with patience and 
 afliduity, but he knows not how to folicit and teaze others to 
 employ him, or demand his due of a muffling, defigning 
 mailer, that is either difficult of accefs, or tenacious of his 
 money : if he be a man of letters, he will itudy hard for 
 a livelihood, but generally parts with his labours at a difad- 
 vantage, and will knowingly fell them at an under-rate to an 
 obfcure man, who oners to purchafe, rather than bear the in- 
 tuits of haughty bookieiiers, and be plagued with the fordid 
 language of the trade. An indolent man may, by chance, 
 meet with a perfon of quality, that takes a fancy to him; 
 but he will never get a patron by his own addrefs ; neither 
 will he ever be the better for it, when 1 ; than 
 
 the imafked-for bounty, and d:/ \ enerofity of his be- . 
 
 nefaclor make him. As he fpeaks for himfelf with reluclancy, 
 and is always afraid of aiking favours, fo. for benefits received, 
 he mows no other gratitude, th:-..~. 1 emotions 
 
 of his heart fuggeil to him. The ftriving, active man itudies 
 all the winning ways to ingratiate himfelf. and hunts after 
 patrons with dehgn and fagacity: whilft they are beneficial 
 to him, he affecis a perpetual feme of thankful n efs ; but all 
 his acknowledgments of pail obligations, he turns into feli- 
 citations for frefh favours : his complaif .y be enga- 
 ging, and his flattery ingenious, but I is untouched: 
 he has neither leifure, nor the power to love hi 
 
 % 4 
 
344 THE THIr -D DIALOGUE. 
 
 the elddl he has, he will always facrifice- to a new one ; and 
 he has no other efteem for the fortune, the greatnefs, or the 
 credit of a patron, than as he can make them lubfervient ei- 
 ther to raife or maintain his own. From all this, and a little 
 attention on human affairs, we may eafily perceive, in the 
 firft place, that the man of action, and an. enterprising tem- 
 per, in following the dictates of his nature, limit meet with 
 more rubs and obftacles infinitely, than the indolent, and a 
 multitude; of ftrong temptations, to deviate from the rules of 
 Uriel virtue, which hardly ever come in the other's way; that, 
 in many circumltances, he will be forced to commit fuch ac- 
 tions, for which, all his (kill and prudence notwithstanding, 
 he will, by fome body or other, defervedly be thought to be 
 an ill man ; and that to end with a tolerable reputation, af- 
 ter a long courfe of life, he muft have had a great deal of 
 good fortune, as well as cunning. Secondly, that the indo- 
 lent man may indulge his inclinations, and be as fenfual as 
 his circumltances may let him, with little offence or diif urb- 
 ance to his neighbour ; that the excefilve value he fets up- 
 on the tranquillity of his mind, and the grand averfion he has 
 to part with it, mull prove a ftrong curb to every pailion 
 that comes uppermoft ; none of which, by this means, can 
 ever affect him in any high degree, and confeeuently, that 
 the corruption of his heart remaining, he may, with little art 
 and no great trouble, acquire many valuable qualities, that 
 ihall have all the appearances of focial virtues, whilfl no- 
 thing extraordinary befals him. As to his contempt of the 
 world, the indolent man perhaps will fcorn to make his 
 court, and cringe to a haughty favourite, that will browbeat 
 him at firft ; but lie will run with joy to a rich nobleman, 
 that he is fure will receive him with kindnefs and humanity i 
 With him he will partake, without reluclancy, of all the ele- 
 gant comforts of life that are offered, the moil expenfive not 
 excepted. Would you try him further, confer upon him ho- 
 nour and wealth in abundance. If this change in his for- 
 tune flirs up VxO vice that lay dormant before, as it may by 
 rendering him either covetous or extravagant, he will foori 
 conform himfelf to the fafhionable world: Perhaps he will 
 be a kind mafter, an indulgent father, a benevolent neigh- 
 bour, munificent to merit that pleafes him,- a patron to vir- 
 tue, and a wellwifher to his country ; but for the reft, he 
 will take all the pleafure he is capable of enjoying ; fiifie no 
 pafiion he can calmly gratify, and, in the midft of a luxurU 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 345 
 
 it plenty, laugh heartily at frugality, and the contempt of 
 :hes and greatnefs lie profelied in his poverty; and cheer- 
 ily own the futility of thofe pretences. 
 Hor. I am convinced, that, in the opinion of virtue's re- 
 hiring felf-denial, there is greater certainty, and hypocrites 
 ive lefs latitude than in the contrary iyilem. 
 
 ;-. Whoever follows his own inclinations, he they never 
 kind, beneficent, or human, never quarrels with any vice, 
 it what is claming with his temperament and nature ; 
 v/hereas thofe who act from a principle of virtue, take al- 
 reafon for their guide, and combat, without exception, 
 every pafiion that hinders them from their duty ! The in- 
 dolent man will never deny a juit debt ; but, if it be large, 
 he will not give himfelf the trouble which, poor as he is, he 
 might, and ought to take to difcharge it, or, at leali, fatisfy 
 his creditors, unlefs he is often dunned, or threatened to be 
 ilied for it. He w 7 ill not be a litigious neighbour, nor make 
 bief among his acquaintance ; but he will never ferve his 
 friend or his country, at the expence of his quiet. He will 
 not be rapacious, oppreis the poor, or commit vile actions for 
 lucre ; but then he will never exert himfelf, and be at the 
 pams another would take on all opportunities, to maintain a 
 large family, make provifion for children, and promote his 
 kindred and relations ; and his darling frailty will incapaci- 
 tate him from doing a thou! and things fonthe benefit of the 
 fociety, which, with the fame parts and opportunities, he 
 might, and would have done, had he been of another tem- 
 
 hor. Your obiervations are very curious, and, as far as I 
 can judge from what I have feen myfelf, very juft and natu- 
 ral. , 
 
 ,. Every body knows that there is no virtue fo often 
 counterfeited as charity, and yet to little regard have the 
 generality of men to truth, that how grofs and bare-faced 
 ioever the deceit is in pretences of this nature, the world 
 never fails of being angry with, and hating thofe who detect 
 or take notice of the fraud. It is poffible, that, with blind 
 fortune on his ride, a mean ihopkeeper, by driving a trade 
 prejudicial to his country on the one hand, and grinding, on 
 all occafions, the face of the poor on the other, may accumu- 
 late great wealth ; which, in procefs of time, by continual 
 (craping, and fordid laving, may be raifed into an exorbi- 
 tant, an unheard-of eflate for a tradefinan. Should inch d. 
 
346 THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 one, when old and decrepit, lay out the greateft part of his 
 immenfe riches in the building, or largely endowing an hof- 
 pital, and I was thoroughly acquainted with his temper and 
 manners, I could have no opinion of his virtue, though he 
 parted with the money, whilit he was yet alive ; more efpe- 
 cially, if I was afilired,' that, in his lait will, he had been 
 highly unjuft, and had not only left unrewarded feveral, 
 whom he had great obligations to, but likewife defrauded 
 others, to whom, in his confcience, he knew that he was, 
 and would die actually indebted. I defire you to tell me 
 what name, knowing all I have faid to be true, you would 
 give to this extraordinary gift, this mighty donation ! 
 
 Ear. I am of opinion, than when an action of our neigh- 
 bour may admit of different constructions, it is our duty to 
 Z:"e with, and embrace the molt favourable. 
 
 Cleo. The molt favourable conftructions with all my heart: 
 But what is that to the purpofe, when all the itraining in the 
 world cannot make it a good one? I do not mean the 
 thing itfelf, but the principle it came from, the inward mo- 
 tive of the mind that put him upon performing it ; for it is 
 that which, in a free agent, I call the action : And, there- 
 fore, call it what you pleafe, and judge as charitably of it as 
 you can, what can you fay of it ? 
 
 Hor. He might have had feveral motives, which I do not 
 pretend to determine ; but it is an admirable contrivance of 
 being extremely beneficial to all pofterity in this land, a 
 noble provifion that will perpetually relieve, and be an un- 
 fpeakable comfort to a multitude of miferable people ; and 
 it is not only a prodigious, but likewife a well-concerted 
 bounty that was wanting, and for which, in after ages, thou- 
 fands of poor wretches will have reafon to blefs his memory, 
 when every body elie fhaU have neglected them. 
 
 Ceo. All that I have nothing againft ; and if you would 
 add more, I fhall not difpute it with you, as long as you con- 
 fine your praifes to the endowment itfelf, and the benefit 
 the public is like to receive from it. But to afcribe it to, or 
 fuggeit that it was derived from a public fpirit in the man, a 
 generous fenfe of humanity and benevolence to his kind, a 
 liberal heart, or any other virtue or good quality, which.it 
 is manifeft the donor was an utter ftranger to, is the utmoft 
 abfurdity in an intelligent creature, and can proceed from no 
 other cauie than either a wilful wronging of his own under- 
 Handing, or elie ignorance and folly. 
 
 4 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. ^347 
 
 Hop. I am perfuaded, that many actions are put off for 
 virtuous, that are not.ib ; and that according as men differ 
 in natural temper, and turn of mind, fo they are differently 
 influenced by the fame paftions : I believe likewife, that thele 
 laft are born with us, and belong to our nature; that fome of 
 them are in us, or at leafl the feeds of them, before we per- 
 ceive them : but iince they are in every individual-, how 
 comes it that pride is more predominant in fome than it is in 
 others ? For from what you have demonilrated already, it 
 mull follow, that one perfon is more affected with the paf- 
 •fion within than another; I mean, that one man has actual- 
 ly a greater fhare of pride than another, as well among the 
 artful that are dexterous in concealing it, as among the ill- 
 bred that openly fhow it. 
 
 Cleo. What belongs to our nature, all men may juftly be 
 faid to have actually or virtually in them at their birth ; and 
 whatever is not born with us, either the thing itfelf or that 
 which afterwards produces it, cannot be faid to belong to our 
 nature : but as we differ in our faces and nature, fo we do in 
 other things, that are more remote from light : but all thefe 
 depend only upon the different frame, the inward formation 
 of either the folids or the fluids ; and there are vices of com- 
 plexion, that are peculiar, fome to the pale and phlegmatic, 
 others to the fanguine and choleric : fome are more luftful, 
 others more fearful in their nature, than the generality are : 
 but I believe of man, generally fpeaking, what my friend has 
 obferved of other creatures, that the beft of the kind, I mean 
 the belt formed within, fuch as have the fineft natural parts, 
 are born with the greatefl aptitude to be proud ; but I am 
 convinced, that the difference there is in men, as to the de- 
 grees of their pride, is more owing to circumltances and edu- 
 cation, than any thing in their formation. Where paffions 
 are moil gratified and leafl controuled, the indulgence makes 
 them ft ranger ; whereas thofe perfons, that have been kept 
 under, and whole thoughts have never been at liberty to rove 
 beyond thefirft neceffaries of life ; fuch as have not been fuf- 
 fered, or had no opportunity to gratify this paffion, have 
 commonly the leaft fhare of it. But whatever portion of 
 pride a man may feel in his heart, the quicker his parts are, 
 the better his underftanding is ; and the more experience he 
 has, the more plainly he will perceive the averfion which all 
 men have to thofe that difcover their pride : and the fooner 
 perfons are imbued with good manners, the fooner they grow 
 
34^ TKE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 perfect in concealing that painon. Men of mean birth and 
 education, that have been kept in great fubjeclion, and con- 
 sequently had no great opportunities to exert their pride, if 
 ever they come to command others, have a fort of revenge 
 mixed with that paffion, which makes it often very mifchie- 
 vous, efpecially in places where they have no fuperiors or 
 equals, before whom they are obliged to conceal the odious 
 • pa ili on. 
 
 Hor. Do you think women have more pride from nature 
 than men ? 
 
 Cleo. I believe not : but they have a great deal more from 
 education. 
 
 Hor. I do not fee the reafon : for among the better fort, 
 the fons, efpecially the eldefl, have as many ornaments and 
 fine things given them from their infancy, to flir up their 
 pride, as the daughters. 
 
 Cko. But among people equally well-educated, the ladies 
 have more flattery bellowed upon them, than the gentle- 
 men, and it begins fooner. 
 
 Hor. But why fhould pride be more encouraged in women 
 than in men ? 
 
 . Cko. For the fame reafon, that it is encouraged in foldiers, 
 more than it is. m other people; to increafe their fear of 
 ihame, which makes them always mindful of their honour. 
 
 Hor. But to keep both to their refpeclive duties, why muil 
 a lady have more pride than a gentleman ? 
 
 Cko. Becaufe the lady is in the greateil danger of ilraying 
 from it : ihe has a paffion within, that may begin to affect 
 her at twelve or thirteen, and perhaps fooner, and Ihe has 
 all the temptations of the men to withstand befides : Ihe has 
 all the artillery of our fex to fear ; a feducer of uncommon 
 addrefs and refiftlefs charms, may court her to what nature 
 prompts and folicits her to do; he may add great promifes, 
 aclual bribes; this may be done in the dark, and when nobo- 
 dy is by to difiuade her. Gentlemen very feidom have oc- 
 caiion to (how their courage before they are iixteen or feven- 
 teen years of age, and rarely fo foon : they are not put to 
 the trial, till, by converting with men of honour, they are 
 confirmed in their pride : in the affair of a quarrel they have 
 their mends to confult, and thefe are fo many witneffes of 
 their behaviour, that awe them to their duty, and in a man- 
 ner oblige them to obey the laws of honour: all thefe things 
 confpire to increafe their fear of fhame ; and if they can but 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 349 
 
 render that fuperior to the fear of death, their bufinefs Is 
 done ; they have no pleafure to expect from breaking the 
 rtiles of honour, nor any crafty tempter that iblicits them to 
 be cowards. That pride which is the caufe of honour in 
 men, only regards their courage; and if they can but ap- 
 pear to be brave, and will but follow the faihionahle rules 
 of manly honour, they may indulge all other appetites, and 
 brag of incontinence without reproach : the pride likewife 
 that produces honour in women, has no other object than 
 their chaftity ; and whilft they keep that jewel entire, they 
 can apprehend no fhame : tendemefs and delicacy are a 
 compliment to them ; and there is no fear of danger fo ridi- 
 culous, but they may own it with orientation. But not- 
 withstanding the w T eaknefs of their frame, and the foftnefs in. 
 which women are generally educated, if overcome by chance 
 they have finned in private, what real hazards w 7 iil they not 
 run, what torments will they not iiirle, and what crimes will 
 they not commit, to hide from the world that frailty, which 
 they were taught to be moil afhamed of! 
 
 Hir. It is certain, that we feldom hear of public profti- 
 tutes, and fuch as have loft their fhame, that they murder 
 their infants, though they are otherwife the mo'fl abandoned, 
 wretches : I took notice of this in the Fable of the Bees, and 
 it is very remarkable. 
 
 Cko. It contains a plain denionftration, that the feme paf- 
 fion may produce either a palpable good or a palpable evil 
 in the fame perfon, according as felf-love and his prefent cir- 
 cumftances mail direct ; and that the fame fear of fhame, 
 that makes men fometimes appear fo highly virtuous, may 
 at others oblige them to commit the moil heinous crimes : 
 that, therefore, honour is not founded upon any principle, 
 either of real virtue or true religion, mult be obvious to all 
 that will but mind what fort of people they are, that are the 
 greater! votaries of that idol, and the different duties it re- 
 quires in the two fexes : in the firft place, the woribippers of 
 honour are the vain and voluptuous, the ltricl obfervers of 
 modes and fafhions, that take delight in pomp and luxury, 
 and enjoy as much of the world as they are able : in the fe- 
 •cond, the word itfelf,'I mean the fenfe of it, is fo whimiical, 
 and there is fuch a prodigious difference in the fignirication 
 of it, according as the attribute is differently applied, either 
 to a man or to a woman, that neither of them fhall forfeit 
 
 6 
 
350 THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 their honour, though each fhould be guilty, and openly 
 boaft of what would be the others greater!: fhame. 
 
 Hor. I am forry that I cannot charge you with injuftice : 
 but it is very ftrange ; that to encourage and induftrioully in- 
 creafe pride in a refined education, fhould be the moil proper 
 means to make men felicitous in concealing the outward ap- 
 pearances of it. 
 
 Geo. Yet nothing is more true ; but where pride is fo 
 much indulged, and yet to be fo carefully kept from all hu- 
 man view, as it is in perfons of honour of both fexes, it would 
 be impoffible for mortal ftrength to endure the reftraint, if 
 men could not be taught to play the paffion againil itfelf, 
 and were not allowed to change the natural home-bred 
 fymptoms of it, for artificial foreign ones. 
 
 Hor. By playing the paffion againft itfelf, I know you 
 mean placing a fecret pride in concealing the barefaced 
 iigns of it : but I do not "rightly underiland what you mean 
 by changing the fymptoms of it. 
 
 Geo. When a man exults in his pride, and gives a loofe 
 to that paffion, the marks of it are as vifible in his coun- 
 tenance, his mien, his gait and behaviour, as they are in a 
 prancing horfe, or a limiting turkey-cock. Thefe are all 
 very odious; every one feeling the fame principle within, 
 which is the caufe of thofe fymptoms ; and man being endu- 
 ed with fpeech, all the open expreffions the fame paffion can 
 fuggelt to him, mull for the fame reafon be equally difpleaf- 
 ing : thefe, therefore, have in all focieties been ftriclly pro- 
 hibited by common confent, in the very infancy of good 
 manners ; and «men have been taught, in the room of them, j 
 to lubflitute other fymptoms, equally evident with the firit, < 
 but lefs offenfive, and more beneficial to others. 
 
 Hor. Which are they ? 
 
 Geo. Fine clothes, and other ornaments about them, the 
 cleanlinefs obferved about their perfons, the fubmiffion that is 
 required of fervants, coftly equipages, furniture, buildings, 
 titles of honour, and every thing that men can acquire to make 
 themfelves efleemed by others, without difcovering any of ' 
 the fymptoms that are forbid : upon a fatiety of enjoying 
 thefe, they are allowed likewife to have the vapours, and be 
 whimfical, though otherwife they are known to be in health 
 and of good fenie. 
 
THE THIRD 1 35 1 
 
 :;ce the pride of others is difpleafing to ufl in 
 efc apt «ns, j - 
 
 lent with the G me cham 
 
 1 : when designedly exprelTed in 
 
 look- ler in a wild or tame man, It is kn 
 
 .: : it is the fame, when vent- 
 ed in that underftands the language 
 they ;. Thcfe arc marks and tokens that are 
 all the world over : them, but to have 
 
 2W penbns ever djfplay them 
 
 without deiigning that orienee to others, which they never 
 
 .-as, the other fymptcrm denied to 
 
 be what they ! many pi they are de- 
 
 rived be made for them, which the 
 
 _ aood manners teach us never to refute, nor eahdy to 
 
 •de, there is a con- 
 deicennon that la - .: us. In thofe that are 
 
 Ltote of the oppor; 
 toms of pnde that are allowed of, the leaft portion of that 
 paffion is a troublefoine, though oftei 
 
 avy and malice, and on 
 the leaft provocation, it failles out in thpi nd is. 
 
 .e never v [chief 
 
 :h this p alii on 
 not a hand in : where,. vent 
 
 : ratify the paHion in the w ays, the more 
 
 it is for them to ftifle tfa part ci pride, and feem 
 
 e wholly free from i:, 
 Her. I lee very well, that real virtues re conqueft 
 
 over untaught nature, and that :ion de- 
 
 mands a ft ill ilricter felf-den fe is evide 
 
 to make ourfelves acceptable to an OHinifcient Power, no- 
 thing is more neceiia: hat the heart 
 mould be pure. But letting alidc mcred : a fu- 
 ture ftate, do not you think that 
 
 rood 
 upon earth : and do not you believe that good manners and 
 
 ible in this world, : 
 without thofe a 
 
 . If you will fet afi 
 
 care. 
 
35- THE THIRD DIALOG VL. 
 
 from a confcioufnefs of being good, it is certain, that it 
 great nation, and among a loufiflimg people, whofe higl 
 willies feem to be eafe and luxury, the upper part could r 
 without thoie arts, enjoy fo fti&bfei of the world as that < 
 afford; and that none Hand more in need of them than 
 voluptuous men of parts, that will join worldly prudence 
 fenfuality, and make it their chief ltudy to refine upon pi 
 ftire. 
 
 i Hor. When I had the honour of your company at my 
 houie, you (aid that nobody knew when or where, nor in 
 what king's or emperor's reign the laws of honour were en- 
 acted ; pray, can you inform mc when or which way, what 
 we call good manners or politenefs came into the world ? 
 what moralilt or politician was it, that could teach men to 
 be proud of hiding their pride ? 
 
 Cleo. The refiiUefs indufcry of man to iupply his wants, and 
 his conftant endeavours to meliorate his condition upon earth, 
 have produced and brought to perfection many ufeful arts and 
 fciences, of which the beginnings are of uncertain eras, and to 
 which we can ailign no other caufes, than human fagacity 
 in general, and the joint labour of many ages, in which men 
 have always employed themfelves in itudying and contriving 
 ways and means to footh their various appetites, and make 
 the belt of their infirmities. Whence had we the firlt rudi- 
 ments of architecture ; how came fculpture and painting to 
 be what they have been thefe many hundred years ; and who 
 taught every nation the refpeclive languages they fpeak now. 
 When I have a mind to dive into the origin of any maxim or 
 political invention, for the ufe of fociety in general, I do not ! 
 trouble my head with inquiring after the time or country 
 in which it was firft heard of, nor what others have wrote or 
 faid about it ; but I go directly to the fountain head, human 
 nature itfelf, and look for the frailty or defect, in man, that 
 is remedied or fupphed by that invention : when things are 
 very obfeure, I ibrnetimes make ufe of conjecfures to find 
 my way. 
 
 Hor. Do you argue, or pretend to prove any thing from 
 thofe conjectures ? 
 
 Cleo. No ; I never reafon but from the plain obfervations 
 which every body may make on man, the phenomena that 
 appear in the lefler world. 
 
 Hor. You have, without doubt, thought on this fubjeft 
 
TH£ THIRD BIALO&UE. 353 
 
 before now ; would you communicate to me fome of your 
 gueifes ? 
 
 Cko. With abundance of pleafure. 
 
 Hor. You will give me leave, now and then, when things 
 are not clear to me, to put in a word for information's fake. 
 
 Cleo. I defire you would : you will oblige me with it. 
 That felf-love was given to all animals, at leaft, the moil 
 perfect, for felf-prefervation, is not diiputed; but as no 
 creature can love what it diflikes, it is neceiTary, moreover, 
 that every one mould have a real liking to its own being, 
 fuperior to what they have to any other. I am of opinion, 
 begging pardon for the novelty, that if this liking was notf 
 always permanent, the love which all creatures have for 
 themfelves, could not be fo unalterable as we fee it is. 
 
 Hor, What reafon have you to fuppofe this liking, which 
 creatures have for themfelves, to be diftincl from felf-love ; 
 iince the one plainly comprehends the other ? 
 
 Cleo. I will endeavour to explain myfelf better. I fancy, 
 that to increafe the care in creatures to preferve themfelves, 
 nature has given them an inftinct, by which every individual 
 values itfelf above its real worth ; this in us, I mean in man, 
 feems to be accompanied with a diffidence, ariung from a 
 confcioufnefs, or at leaft an apprehenfion, that we do over- 
 value ourfelves : it is that makes us fo fond of the approba- 
 tion, liking, and afTent of others ; becaufe they llrengthen 
 and confirm us in the good opinion we have of ourfelves. 
 The reafons why this felf- liking, give me leave to call it fo, 
 is not plainly to be feen in all animals that are of the fame 
 degree of perfection, are many. Some want ornaments, and 
 confequently the means to exprefs it ; others are too ftupid 
 and liftlefs : it is to be confidered likewife, that creatures, 
 which are always in the fame circumftances, and meet with 
 little variation in their way of living, have neither opportu- 
 nity nor temptation to mow it ; that the more mettle and 
 livelinefs creatures have, the more vifible this liking is ; and 
 that in thofe of the fame kind, the greater fpirit they are of, 
 and the more they excel in the perfections of their fpecies, 
 the fonder they are of fhowing it : in molt birds it is evident, 
 efpecially in thofe that have extraordinary finery to difplay : 
 in a horfe it is more confpicuous than in any other irrational 
 creature : it is moft apparent in the fwiftelt, the ftrongeft, 
 the molt healthy and vigorous ; and may be increafed in 
 that animal by additional ornaments, and the prefence of 
 
354 ' TH ' E THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 man, whom he knows, to clean, take care of, and delight 
 in him. It is not improbable, that this great liking which 
 creatures have for their own individuals, is the principle on 
 which the love to their fpecies is built : cows and fheep, too 
 dull and lifelefs to make any demonftration of this liking, 
 yet herd and feed together, each with his own fpecies ; be- 
 caufe no others are fo like themfelves : by this they feem to 
 know likewife, that they have the fame interefl, and the 
 fame enemies ; cows have often been feen to join in a com- 
 mon defence againil wolves : birds of a feather flock together; 
 and I* dare fay, that the icreechowl likes her own note 
 better than that of the nightingale. 
 
 Hor. Montain feems to have been fomewhat of your 
 opinion, when he fancied, that if brutes were to paint the 
 Pcity, they would all draw him of their own fpecies. But 
 what you call felf liking is evidently pride. 
 
 Geo. I believe it is, or at lead the caufe of it. 1 believe, 
 moreover, that many creatures mow this liking, when, for 
 want of understanding them, we do not perceive it : When a 
 cat waihes her face, and a dog licks himfelf clean, they adorn 
 themfelves as much as it is in their power. Man himfelf, in a 
 a lavage ftate, feeding on nuts and acorns, and deftitute of all 
 outward ornaments, would have infinitely lefs temptation, as 
 well as opportunity, of mowing this liking of himfelf, than 
 he has when civilized ; yet if a hundred males of the firft, all 
 equally free, were together, within lefs than half an hour, 
 this liking in queftion, though their bellies were full, would 
 appear in the dehre of fuperiority, that would be mown a- 
 mong them ; and the moil vigorous, either in ftrength or 
 underftanding, or both, would be the firft that would difplay 
 it: If, as fuppofed, they were all untaught, this would breed 
 contention, and there would certainly be war before there 
 could be any agreement among them ; unlefs one of them 
 had lb me one or more viiible excellencies above the reft. I 
 laid males, and their bellies full; becaufe, if they had 
 women among them, or wanted food, their quarrel might 
 begin on another account. 
 
 Hor. This is thinking abftraclly indeed : but do you 
 think that two or three hundred tingle lavages, men and 
 women, that never had been under any fubjeclion, and 
 were above twenty years of age, could ever eftablifh a foci- 
 ety, and be united into one body, if, without being ac- 
 quainted with one another, they mould meet by chance ! 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE, 355 
 
 C!eo. No more, I believe, than fo many horfes : but fo- 
 cieties never were made that way. It is pofiible that fevd- 
 ral families of favages might unite, and the heads of them 
 agree upon fome fort of government or other, for their com- 
 mon good : but among them, it is certain like wife, that, 
 though fuperiority was tolierably well fettled, and every 
 male had females enough, ftrength and prowefs in this un- 
 civilized flate would be infinitely more valued than under- 
 ftanding : I mean in the men ; for the women will always 
 prize themfelves for what they fee the men admire in them i 
 Hence it would follow, that the women would value them- 
 felves, and envy one another for being handfome ; and that 
 the ugly and deformed, and all thofe that were leaft favour- 
 ed by nature, would be tjie firft, that would fly to art and 
 additional ornaments : feeng that this made them more a- 
 greeable to the men, it would foon be followed by the reft, 
 and in a little time they would itrive to outdo one another, 
 as much as their circumftances would allow of; aod it is pof- 
 iible,^ that a woman, with a very handfome nofe, might 
 envy her neighbour with a much worfe, for having a ring 
 through it. 
 
 Hon You take great delight in dwelling on the behaviour 
 of favages ; what relation has this to politenefs ? 
 
 Cko. The feeds of it are lodged in this felf-love and felf- 
 liking, which I have fpoke of, as will foon appear, if we 
 would confider what would be the confequence of them in 
 the affair of felf-prefervation, and a creature endued with 
 underftanding, fpeech, and rifibility. Self-love would firft 
 make it fcrape together every thing it wanted for fuftenance, 
 provide againft the injuries of the air, and do every thing to 
 make itfelf and young ones fecure. Self-liking would make 
 it feek for opportunities, by geftures, looks, and founds, to 
 difplay the value it has for itfelf, fuperior to what it has for 
 others ; an untaught man would defire every body that came 
 near him, to agree with him in the opinion of his fuperior 
 worth, and be angry, as far as his fear would let him, with 
 all that mould refufe it : he would be highly delighted with, 
 and love every body whom he thought to have a good opi- 
 nion of him, efpecially thofe, that, by words or geftures, 
 fhould own it to his face : whenever he met with any vilible 
 marks in others of inferiority to himfelf, he would laugh, 
 and do the fame at their misfortunes, as far as his owe pity 
 A a- 2- 
 
$$6 THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 would give him leave, and he would infult every body that 
 would let him. 
 
 Hor. This felf- liking, you fay, was given to creatures for 
 felf-prefervation : I mould think rather that it is hurtful to 
 men, becaufe it muft make them odious to one another ; 
 and I cannot fee what benefit they can recive from it, either 
 in a favage or a civilized ftate : is there any inftance of its do- 
 ing any good ? 
 
 Cleo. I wonder to hear you afk that queflion. Have you 
 forgot the many virtues which I have demonflrated, may be 
 counterfeited to gain applaufe, and the good qualities a man 
 of fenfe in great fortune may acquire, by the fole help and 
 Infligation of his pride ? 
 
 Hor. I beg your pardon : yet what you fay only regards 
 man in the fociety, and after he has been perfectly well edu- 
 cated: what advantage is it to him as a lingle creature? 
 Self-love I can plainly fee, induces him to labour for his 
 maintenance and fafety, and makes him fond of every thing 
 which he imagines to tend to his prefervation ; but what 
 good does the felf-liking to him ? 
 
 Cleo. If I fhould tell you, that the inward pleafure and fa- 
 tisfaction a man receives from the gratification of that paf- 
 lion, is a cordial that contributes to his health, you would 
 laugh at me, and think it far fetched. 
 
 Hor. Perhaps not ; but I would fet againft it the many 
 fharp vexations and heart-breaking forrows, that men fuffer 
 on the fcore of this paflion, from difgraces, difappointments, 
 and other misfortunes, which, I believe, have fetit millions to 
 their graves much fooner than they would have gone, if 
 their pride had lefs affected them. 
 
 Cleo. I have nothing againft what you fay : but this is no 
 proof that the paffion itfelf was not given to man for felf- 
 prefervation ; and it only lays open to us the precarioufnefs 
 of iublunary happinefs, and the wretched condition of mor- 
 tals. There is nothing created that is always a bleffing ; the 
 rain and funfhine themfelves, to which all earthly comforts 
 are owing, have been the caufes of innumerable calamities. 
 All animals of prey, and thoufand others, hunt after food 
 with the hazard of their lives, and the greater part of them 
 perifh in their purfuits after fuftenance. Plenty itfelf is not 
 lefs fatal to fome, than w T ant is to others ; and of our own 
 fpecies, every opulent nation has had great numbers, that in 
 full fafety from all other dangers, have deftroyed themfelves 
 6 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 357 
 
 by excefles of eating and drinking: yet nothing is more cer- 
 tain, than that hunger and third were given to creatures, to 
 make them folicitous after, and crave hole neceflaries, wi t- 
 out which it would be impoflible for them to fubfift. 
 
 Hor. Still I can fee no advantage accruing from their felf- 
 liking to man, confidered as a nngle creature, which can in- 
 duce me to believe, that nature mould have given it us for 
 felf-prefervation. What you have alleged is obfcure ; can 
 you name a benefit every individual perfon receives from 
 that principle within him, that is manifeft, and clearly to be 
 underftood ? 
 
 Cleo. Since it has been in difgrace, and every body difowns 
 the paffion, it feldom is feen in its proper colours, and dif- 
 guifes itfelf in a thoufand different fhapes : we are often af- 
 fected with it, when we have not the leaft fufpicion of it ; 
 but it feems to be that which continually furnifhes us with 
 that reliifi we have for life, even when it is not worth having. 
 Whilft men are pleaied, felf-liking has every moment a con- 
 fiderable mare, though unknown, in procuring the fatisfac- 
 tion they enjoy. It is fo necelTary to the well-being of thofe 
 that have been ufed to indulge it, that they can tafle no 
 pleafure without it; and fuch is the deference, and the fubmif- 
 live veneration they pay to it, that they are deaf to the loud- 
 eft calls of nature, and will rebuke the ftrongeft appetites that 
 fhould pretend to be gratified at the expence of that paffion. 
 It doubles our happinefs in profperity, and buoys us up 
 againft the frowns of adverfe fortune. It is the mother of 
 hopes, and the end as well as the foundation of our bert 
 withes : it is the ftrongeft armour againft defpair; and as long 
 as we can like any w-ays our iituation, either in regard to pre- 
 fent circumftances, or the pvofpecl before us, we take care of 
 ourfelves ; and no man can relblve upon filicide, whilft felf- 
 liking lafts : but as foon as that is over, all our hopes are ex- 
 tinct, and we can form no wifhes but for the diftblution of 
 our frame ; till at laft our being becomes fo intolerable to us, 
 that felf-love prompts us to make an end of it, and feek re- 
 fuge in death. 
 
 Hor. You mean felf-hatred ; for you have faid yourfelf, 
 that a creature cannot love what it diflikes. 
 
 Cleo. If you turn the proipecr., you are in the right: but 
 
 this only proves to us what 1 have often hinted at, that man 
 
 is made up of contrarieties ; otherwife nothing feems to be 
 
 more certain, than that whoever kills himfeif by choice, mull 
 
 A a 3 
 
g5^ THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 do it to avoid fomething, which he dreads more than that 
 death which he choofes* Therefore, how abfurd foever a 
 perfon' s reafoning may be, there is in all filicide a palpable 
 intention of kindnefs to one's felf. 
 
 Hor. I muft own that your obfervations are entertaining. 
 Jam very well pleafed with your difcourfe, and I fee an 
 agreeable glimmering of probability that runs through it ; 
 but you have faid nothing that comes up to a half proof on 
 the iide of your conjecture, if it be feriouily considered. 
 
 Cko.,1 told you before that I would lay no ftrefs upon, 
 nor draw any conclufions from it : but whatever nature's de- 
 iign was in bellowing this felf- liking on creatures, and whe- 
 ther it has been given to other animals beiides ourfelves or 
 not, it is certain, that in our own fpecies every individual 
 perfon likes himielf fetter than he does any other. 
 
 Hor. It may be fo, generally fpeaking : but that it is not 
 tmiverfaiiy true, I can aifure you, from my own experience ; 
 for I have often wifhed my felf to be Cpunt Theodati, whom 
 you knew at I^ome. 
 
 Cleo. He w T as a very fine perfon indeed, and extremely 
 well accomplished ; and therefore you wifhed to be fuch 
 another, which is all you could mean. Ceha has a very 
 handfome face, fine eyes, fine teeth ; but fhe has red hair, 
 and is ill made : therefore Hie wifnes for Chloe's hair and Be- 
 linda's fhape ; but ihe would ftill remain Celia. 
 
 Hor. B ut 1 wifhed that I might have been that perfon, 
 that very Theodati. 
 
 Cleo. That is impofiible. 
 
 Hor. What, is it impoftible to wiili it? 
 
 Cleo. Yes, to wifh it ; unlefs you wilhed for annihilation 
 at the fame time. It is that felf we wifh well to ; and there- 
 fore we cannot wifh for any change in ourfelves, but with a 
 provifo, that T « felf, that part of us that wifhes, mould ftill 
 remain : for take away that confcioufnefs you had of your- 
 felf whilft you w r as wifhmg, and tell me, pray, what part of 
 you it is that could be the better for the alteration you wifh- 
 ed for? 
 
 Hor. I believe you are in the right. No man can wifh but 
 to enjoy fomething, which no part of that fame man could 
 do, if he was entirely another. : 
 
 Cleo. That be itfelf, the perfon wifhing, muft be deftroyed 
 before the change could be entire. 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 359 
 
 Hor. But when ihall we come to the origin of politenefs ? 
 
 Ueo. We are at it now. and we need not look for it any 
 
 further than in the felf-liking, which I have demonftrated 
 
 every individual man to be poiTeiied of. Do but confider 
 thefe two things : Firft, that from the nature of that paffion, 
 it mult follow, that all untaught men will ever be hateful to 
 one another in converfation, where neither intereit nor fupe- 
 riority are confldered : for, if of two equals, one only values 
 himfelf more by half, than he does the other, though that 
 other fhould value the firft equally with himfelf, they would 
 both be diffatisfied, if their thoughts were known to each 
 other; but if both valued themfelves more by half, than they 
 did each other, the difference between them would ftill be 
 greater, and a declaration of their fentiments would render 
 them both infufferable to each other : which, among uncivi- 
 lized men, would happen every moment, became, without a 
 mixture of art and trouble, the outward iymptorns of that. 
 paffion are not to be itirled. The fecond thing I would have 
 you confider, is, the effect' which, in all human probability, 
 this inconveniency, arifmgfrom felf-liking,* would have upon 
 creatures endued with a great fliare of understanding, that 
 are fond of their eafe to the lait degree, and as induitrious to 
 procure it. Thefe two things, I lav, do but duly weigh, and 
 you fhall find that the duturbance and unealinefs that muit 
 be caufed by felf-liking, whatever ftrugglings and unfuccefs- 
 ful trials to remedy them might precede, muit neceffarily pro- 
 duce, at long run, what we call good manners and politenefs. 
 
 Hor. I underfcaiid you, I believe. Every body in this un- 
 difciplined ftate, being affected with the high value he has 
 for himfelf, and difplaying the mod natural fymptoins which 
 you have defcribed, they would all be offended at the bare- 
 faced pride of their neighbours : and it is impoilible that 
 this fhould continue long among rational creatures, but the 
 repeated experience of the unealinefs they received from fuch 
 behaviour, would make fome of them reflect on the caufe of 
 it ; which, in tract of time, would make them find out, that 
 their own barefaced pride, muit be as crTenfive to others, as 
 that of others is to themfelves. 
 
 Cleo. What you fay is certainly the philofophical reafon 
 of the alterations that are made in the behaviour of men, by 
 their being civilized : but all this is done without reilecrion ; 
 and men by degrees, and great length of time, fall 
 
 "-re into thefe things fpontaneoully. 
 A a 4 
 
360 THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. How is that poffible, when it muft coft them trouble, 
 and there is a palpable felf-denial to be feen in the reftraint 
 they put upon themfelves ? 
 
 Cleo. In the purfuit of felf-prefervation, men difcover a 
 reftlefs endeavour to make themfelves eafy, which infeniibly 
 teaches them to avoid mifchief on all emergencies : and when 
 human creatures once fubmit to government, and are ufed 
 to live under the restraint of laws, it is incredible how many 
 ufeful cautions, fhifts, and ftratagems they will learn to prac- 
 tife by experience and imitation, from converting together, 
 without being aware of the natural caufes that oblige them 
 to act as they do, viz. the pafhons within, that, unknown 
 to themfelves, govern their will and direct their behaviour. 
 
 Hor. You will make men as mere machines as Cartes 
 does brutes. 
 
 Cleo. I have no fuch defign : but I am of opinion, that 
 men find out the ufe of their limbs by inftinct, as much as 
 brutes do the ufe of theirs ; and that, without knowing any 
 thing of geometry or arithmetic, even children may learn 
 to peform actions that feem to befpeak great fkill in mecha- 
 nics, and a conliderable depth of thought and ingenuity in 
 the contrivance befides. 
 
 Hor. What actions are they which you judge this from ? 
 
 Cleo. The advantageous poftures which they will choofe 
 in refining force, in pulling, pufhing, or otherwife remov- 
 ing weight ; from their Height and dexterity in throwing 
 ftones, and other projectiles ; and the ftupenduous cunning 
 made ufe of in leaping. 
 
 Hjr. What ftupenduous cunning, I pray ? 
 
 Cleo. When men would leap or jump a great way, you 
 know, they take a run before they throw themfelves off the 
 ground. It is certain, that, by this means, they jump far- 
 ther, and with greater force than they could do otherwife : 
 the reafon likewife is very plain. The body partakes of, 
 and is moved by two motions; and the velocity, imprened up- 
 on it by leaping, muft be added to fo much, as it retained of 
 the velocity it was put into by running : Whereas, the body 
 of a perfon who takes this leap, as he is itanding ftill, has no 
 other motion, than what is received from the mufcular 
 ftrength exerted in the a<ft of leaping. See a thoufand boys, 
 as well as men, jump, and they will make ufe of this ftrata- 
 gem ; but you will not find one of them that does it know- 
 ingly for that reafon. What I have faid of that ftratagem 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 361 
 
 made ufe of in leaping, A defire you would apply to the doc- 
 trine of good manners, which is taught and praclifed by- 
 millions, who never thought on the origin of politenefs, or fo 
 much as knew the real benefit it is of to fociety. The moil 
 crafty and defigning will every where be the firft; that, for 
 intereft-fake, will learn to conceal this paflion of pride, and, 
 in a little time, nobody will fhow the leaft fymptom of it, 
 whilft he is afking favours, or Hands in need of help. 
 
 Hor. That rational creatures mould do all this, without 
 thinking or knowing what they are about, is inconceivable. 
 Bodily motion is one thing, and the exercife of the under- 
 Handing is another; and therefore agreeable poftures, a 
 graceful mien, an eafy carriage, and a genteel outward be- 
 haviour, in general, may be learned and contracted perhaps 
 without much thought ; but good manners are to be ob- 
 ierved every where, in fpeaking, writing, and ordering ac- 
 tions to be performed by others. 
 
 Cleo. To men who never turned their thoughts that way, 
 it certainly is almoft inconceivable to what prodigious 
 height, from next to nothing, fome arts may be, and have 
 been raifed by human induftry and application, by the unin- 
 terrupted labour and joint experience of many ages, though 
 none but men of ordinary capacity mould ever be employed 
 in them. What a noble, as well as beautiful, what a glori- 
 ous machine is a firft rate man of war when fhe is under 
 fail, well rigged, and well manned ! As in bulk and weight 
 it is vaftly fuperior to any other moveable body of human 
 invention, fo there is no other that has an equal variety of 
 differently furpriiing contrivance^ to boaft of. There are 
 many fets of hands in the nation, that, not wanting proper 
 materials, would be able in lefs than half a-year, to produce, 
 fit out, and navigate a firft rate : yet it is certain, that this 
 talk would be impracticable, if it was not divided and fub- 
 divided into a great variety of different labours ; and it is as 
 certain, that none of thefe labours require any other, than 
 working men of ordinary capacities. 
 
 Hor. What would you infer from this ? 
 
 Cleo. That we often afcribe to the excellency of man's ge- 
 nius, and the depth of his penetration, what is in reality 
 owing to length of time, and the experience of many gene- 
 rations, all of them very little differing from one another in 
 natural parts and fagacity. And to know what it muft have 
 coft to bring that art of making fhips for different purpofes, 
 
362 THE THIPvD DIALOGUE. 
 
 to the perfection in which it is now, we are only to confider, 
 in the firil place, that many confiderable improvements have 
 been made in it within thefe fifty years and lefs ; and, in the 
 fecond ; that the inhabitants of this ifland did build, and 
 make life of fhips eighteen hundred years ago, and that, 
 from that time to this, they have never been without. 
 
 Hor. Which altogether make a ftrong proof of the flow 
 progrefs that art has made to be what it is. 
 
 Geo. The Chevalier Reneau has wrote a book, in which 
 he mows the mechanilm of failing, and accounts mathema- 
 tically for everything that belongs to the working and fleer- 
 ing of a fhip. I am perfuaded, that neither the firft inventors 
 of fhips and failing, or thole who have made improvements 
 flnce in any part of them, ever dreamed of thofe reafons, any 
 more than now the rudefl and moil illiterate of the vulgar 
 do, when they are made failors, which time and practice will 
 do in fpite of their teeth. We have thoufands of them that 
 were firil hauled on board, and detained againft their wills, 
 and yet, in lefs than three years time, knew every rope and 
 every pnlly in the fhip, and without the lead fcrap of ma- 
 thematics, had learned the management as well as ufe of 
 them, much better than the greatefl mathematician could 
 have done in all his lifetime, if he had never been at fea. 
 The book I mentioned, among other curious things, demon- 
 flrates what angle the rudder mull make with the keel, to 
 render its influence upon the fhip the moll powerful. This 
 has its merit ; but a lad of fifteen, who has ferved a year of 
 his time on board of a hoy, knows every thing that is ufe- 
 ful in this demonflration, practically. Seeing the poop al- 
 ways anfweriog the motion of the helm, he only minds the 
 latter, without making the leafl reflection on the rudder, un- 
 til in a year or two more his knowledge in failing, and 
 capacity of fleering his veflel, become fo habitual to him, 
 that he guides her, as he does his own body, by inftinct, 
 though he is half afleep, or thinking on quite another thing. 
 
 Hor. If, as you iaid, and which- 1 now believe to be true, 
 the people who firil. invented, and afterwards improved upon 
 fhips and failing, never dreamed of thofe reafons of Mon- 
 fieur Reneau, it is impoflible that they fhould have acted 
 from them, as motives that induced them a priori, to put 
 their inventions and improvements in practice, with know- 
 ledge and deflgn, which, I fuppofe, is what you intended tQ 
 prove. 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 363 
 
 Cleo. It is ; and I verily believe, not only that the raw be- 
 ginners, who made the firfl effays in either art, good man- 
 ners as well as failing, were ignorant of the true caufe ; the 
 real foundation thofe arts are built upon in nature ; but like- 
 wife that, even now both arts are brought to great perfec- 
 tion, the greater! part of thofe that are mod expert, and 
 daily making improvements in them, know as little of the 
 rationale of them, as their predecefibr.s did at firfl : though I 
 , believe, at the fame time, Moniieur Reneau's reafons to be 
 veryjuft, and yours as good as his; that is, I believe, that 
 there is as much truth and folidity in your accounting for 
 the origin of good manners, as there is in his for the ma- 
 nagement off-iips. They are very feldoni the fame fort of 
 people, thofe that invent arts and improvements in them, 
 and thofe that inquire into the reaion of things : this latter is 
 molt commonly practifed by fuch as are idle and indolent, 
 that are fond of retirement, hate bufrnefs, and take delight 
 in fpeculation ; whereas, none fucceed oftener in the firfl, 
 than active, ftirring, and laborious men, fuch as will put their 
 hand to the plough, try experiments, a-nd give all their at- 
 tention to what they are about. 
 
 ffor. It is commonly imagined, that fpeculative men are 
 bell at invention of all forts. 
 
 Cleo. Yet it is a miilake. Soap-boiling, grain- drying, 
 and other trades and myfteries, are, from mean beginnings, 
 brought to great perfection ; but the many improvements 
 that can be remembered to have been made in them, have, 
 for the generality, been owing to perfons, who either were 
 brought up to, or had long practifed, and been converfant in 
 ■ thofe trades, and not to great proficients in chemiftry, or 
 other parts of philofophy, whom one would naturally expect 
 thofe things from. In fome of thefe arts, efpecially grain or 
 fcarlet- dying, there are procefTes really aitoniming; and, 
 by the mixture of various ingredients, by fire and fermenta- 
 tion, feveral operations are performed, which the moft faga- 
 cious naturaliil cannot account for by any fyilem yet 
 known ; a certain iign that they were not invented by rea- 
 soning a priori. When once the generality begin to conceal 
 the high value they have for themfelves, men muff become 
 more tolerable to one another. Now, new improvements 
 mud be made every day, until fome of them grow impu- 
 dent enough, not only to deny the high value they have for 
 themfelves, but likewife to pretend that they have gveatejr 
 4 
 
364 THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 
 
 value for others, than they have for themfelves. This will 
 bring in complaifance ; and now flattery will rufli in upon 
 them like a torrent. As foon as they are arrived at this 
 pitch of infincerity, they will find the benefit of it, and teach 
 it their children. The paffion of fhame is fo general, and 
 fo early difcovered in all human creatures, that no nation 
 can be fo ftupid, as to be long without obferving and making 
 ufe of it accordingly. .The fame may be faid of the credu- 
 lity of infants, which is very inviting to many good pur- 
 pofes. The knowledge of parents is communicated to 
 their offspring, and every one's experience in life being add- 
 ed to what he learned in his youth, every generation after 
 this mufl be better taught than the preceding ; by which 
 means, in two or three centuries, good manners mult be 
 brought to great perfection. 
 
 Hor. When they are thus far advanced, it is eafy to con- 
 ceive the reft : For improvements, I fuppofe, are made in 
 good manners, as they are in all other arts and fciences. But 
 to commence from favages, men, 1 believe, would make but 
 a fmall progrefs in good manners the firft three hundred 
 years. The Romans, who had a much better beginning, 
 had been a nation above fix centuries, and were almoft mat- 
 ters of the world, before they could be laid to be a polite 
 people. What I am moll aftonifhed at, and which I am now 
 convinced of, is, that the bails of all this machinery is pride. 
 Another thing I wonder at, is, that you chofe to {peak of a 
 nation that entered upon good manners before they had any 
 notions of virtue or religion, which, I believe, there never 
 was in the world. 
 
 Gko. Pardon me, Horatio ; I have nowhere infinuated 
 that they had none, but I had no reafon to mention them. 
 In the firft place, you afked my opinion concerning the ufe 
 of politenefs in this world, abftrad: from the conliderations 
 of a future ftate : Secondly, the art of good manners has no- 
 thing to do with virtue or religion, though it feldom claihes 
 with either. It is a fcience that is ever built on the fame 
 iteady principle in our nature, whatever the age or the cli- 
 mate may be in which it is pracf ifed. 
 
 Hor. How can any thing be faid not to clafh with virtue 
 or religion, that has nothing to do with either, and confe- 
 quently difclaims both ? 
 
 Geo. This, I confefs, feems to be a paradox ; yet it is true. 
 The doctrine of good manners teaches men to fpeak well of 
 
THE THIRD DIALOGUE. 363 
 
 all virtues, but requires no more of them in any age or coun- 
 try, than the outward appearance of thofe in fafhion. And 
 as to facred matters, it is eveiy where fatisfied with feeming 
 conformity in outward worfhip ; for all the religions in the 
 univerfe are equally agreeable to good manners, where they 
 are national ; and pray what opinion mult we fay a teacher 
 to be of, to whom all opinions are probably alike ? All the 
 precepts of good manners throughout the world have the 
 fame tendency, and are no more than the various methods 
 of making ourfelves acceptable to others, with as little preju- 
 dice to ourfelves as is poffible : by which artifice we amit 
 one another in the enjoyments of life, and refining upon 
 pleafure ; and every individual perfon is rendered more hap- 
 py by it in the fruition of all the good things he can pur- 
 chafe, than he could have been without fuch behaviour, I 
 mean happy, in the fenfe of the voluptuous. Let us look: 
 back on old Greece, the Roman empire, or the great eaftern 
 nations that nouriilied before them, and we lliall find, that 
 luxury and politenefs ever grew up together, and were never 
 enjoyed afunder ; that comfort and delight upon earth have 
 always employed the wifhes of the beau monde ; and that, 
 as their chief ftudy and greatefl folicitude, to outward ap- 
 pearance, have ever been directed to obtain happinefs in this 
 world, fo what would become of them in the next, feems, to 
 the naked eye, always to have been the lead of their concern. 
 
 Hor. I thank you for your lecture : you have fatisfied me 
 in feveral things, which I had intended to afk : But you have 
 faid fome others, that I muft have time to confider ; after 
 which I am refolved to wait upon you again ; for I begin to 
 believe, that, concerning the knowledge of ourfelves, moil 
 books are either very defective or very deceitful. 
 
 Geo. There is not a more copious, nor a more faithful 
 volume than human nature, to thofe who will diligently per- 
 ufe it ; and I fincerely believe, that I have difcovered no- 
 thing to you, which, if you had thought of it with attention, 
 you would not have found out yourfelf. But I fhall never 
 be better pleafed with myfelf, than when I can contribute to 
 any entertainment you fhall think diverting. 
 
366 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 THE FOURTH 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 HORATIO AND CLEQMENE3, 
 
 CLEOMZNES. 
 
 JL our fervant. 
 
 Hor. What fay you now, Cleomenes ; is it not this with- 
 out ceremony ? 
 
 Cleo. You are very obliging. 
 
 Hor. When they told me where you was, I would fuffer 
 nobody t» tell you who it was that wanted you, or to come 
 up with me. 
 
 Cleo. This is friendly, indeed ! 
 
 Hor. You fee what a proficient I am : In a little time you 
 will teach me to lay afide all good manners. 
 
 Cleo. You make a fine tutor of me. 
 
 Hor. You will pardon me, I know : this ftudy of yours is 
 a very pretty place. 
 
 Cleo. I like it, becaufe the fan never enters it. 
 
 Hor. A very pretty room ! 
 
 Cleo. Shall we fit down in it ? It is the cooled room in the 
 houfe. 
 
 Hor. With all my heart. 
 
 Cleo. I was in hopes to have feen you before now : you 
 have taken a long time to confider. 
 
 Hor. Juft eight days ? 
 
 Cleo. Have you thought on the novelty I ftarted? 
 
 Hor. I have, and think it not void of probability ; for that 
 there are no innate ideas, and men come into the world 
 without any knowledge at all, I am convinced of, and there- 
 fore it is evident to me, that all arts and fciences mult once 
 have had a beginning in fomebody's brain, whatever oblivion 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 367 
 
 that may now be loll in. I have thought twenty times 
 fince I law you lalt, on the origin of good manners, and 
 what a -pleafant fcene it would be to a man who is tolerably 
 well verfed in the world, to fee among a rude nation thofe 
 firft effays they made of concealing their pride from one ano- 
 ther. 
 
 Cko. You fee by this, that it is chiefly the novelty of 
 things that ftrikes, as well in begetting our averlion, as in 
 gaining our approbation ; and that we may look upon ma- 
 ny indifferently, when they come to be familiar to us, 
 though they were fhocking when they were new. You are 
 now diverting yourfelf with a truth, which eight days ago 
 you would have given an hundred guineas not to have 
 known. 
 
 Hor. I begin to believe there is nothing fo abfurd, that it 
 would appear to us to be fuch, if we had been accuftomed 
 to it very young. 
 
 Cko. In a tolerable education, we are fo induftrioully and 
 fo affiduoufly inftrucied, from our moft early infancy, in the 
 ceremonies of bowing, and pulling off hats, and other rules 
 of behaviour, that even before we are men we hardly look 
 upon a mannerly deportment as a thing acquired, or think 
 converfation to be a fcience. Thoufand things are called 
 eafy and natural in poftures and motions, as well as fpeaking 
 and writing, that have caufed infinite pains to others as well 
 as ourf elves, and which we know to be the product of art. 
 What awkward lumps have I known, which the dancing- 
 mafter has put limbs to ! 
 
 Hor. Yefterday morning as I fat muling by myfelf, an ex- 
 preffion of yours which I did not fo much reflecl: upon at 
 firft, when I heard it, came into my head, and made me 
 fmife. Speaking of the rudiments of good manners in an in- 
 fant nation, when they once entered upon concealing their 
 pride, you faid, that improvements would be made every day, 
 f till fome of them grew impudent enough, not only to 
 M deny the high value they had for themfelves, but like- 
 " wife to pretend that they had greater value for others than 
 " they had for themfelves." 
 
 Cko. It is certain, that this every where mull have been 
 the forerunner of flattery. / 
 
 Hor. When you talk of flattery and impudence, what do 
 you think of the firft man that had the face to tell his equal, 
 that he was his humble fervant ? 
 
3^8 . THE. FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cko. If that had been a new compliment, I mould have 
 wondered much more at the fimplicity of the proud man 
 that fwallowed, than I would have done at the impudence 
 of the knave that made it. 
 
 Hor. It certainly once was new : which pray do you be- 
 lieve more ancient, pulling off the hat, or faying, your hum- 
 ble fervant ? 
 
 Cko. They are both of them Gothic and modern. 
 
 Hor. I believe pulling off the hat was firft, it being the 
 emblem of liberty. 
 
 Cko, I do not think fo : for he who pulled of his hat the 
 firft time, could not have been underftood, if faying your 
 fervant had not been pra&ifed : and to fhow refpect, a man 
 as well might have pulled off one of his fhoes, as his hat ; if 
 faying, your fervant, had not been an eftablifhed and well- 
 known compliment. 
 
 Hor. So he might, as you fay, and had a better authority 
 for the firft, than he could have for the latter. 
 
 Cko. And to this day, taking of the hat is a dumb fhow of 
 a known civility in words : Mind now the power of cuftom, 
 and imbibed notions. We both laugh at this Gothic abfur- 
 dity, and are well affured, that it muft have had its origin 
 from the bafeft flattery ; yet neither of us, walking with our 
 hats on, could meet an acquaintance with whom we are not 
 very familiar, without mowing this piece of civility ; nay, it 
 it would be a pain to us not to do it. But we have no rea- 
 fon to think, that the compliment of faying, your fervant, 
 began among equals; but rather that, flatterers having 
 given it to princes, it grew afterwards more common : for all 
 thofe poftures and flexions of body and limbs, had in all pro- 
 bability their rife from the adulation that was paid to conque- 
 rors and tyrants ; who, having every body to fear, were al- 
 ways alarmed at the leaft fhadow of oppofition, and never 
 better pleafed than with fubmiffive and defencelefs poftures : 
 and you fee, that they have all a tendency that way ; they 
 promife, fecurity, and are filent endeavours to eafe and rid 
 them, not only of their fears, but likewife every fufpicion of 
 harm approaching them : fuch as lying proftrate on our faces, 
 touching the ground with our heads, kneeling, bowing low, 
 laying our hands upon our breafts, or holding them behind 
 us, folding our arms together, and all the cringes that can be 
 made to demonftrate that we neither indulge our eafe, nor 
 Hand upon our guard. Thefe are evident figns and con- 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 369 
 
 vincing proofs to a fuperior, that we have a mean opinion of 
 ourfelves in refpedt to him, that we are at his mercy, and 
 have no thought to refill, much lefs to attack him ; and 
 therefore it is highly probable, that faying, your fervant, and 
 pulling off the hat, were at flrft demonftrations of obedience 
 to thofe that claimed it. 
 
 Hor. Which in tract of time became more familiar, and 
 were made ufe of reciprocally in the way of civility. 
 
 Cleo. I believe fo ; for as good manners increafe, we fee, 
 that the higheft compliments are made common, and new 
 ones to fuperiors invented inftead of them. 
 
 Hor. So the word grace, which not long ago was a title, 
 that none but our kings and queens were honoured with, is 
 devolved upon archbifhops and dukes. 
 
 Cleo. It was the fame with highnefs, which is now given to 
 the children, and even the grandchildren of kings. 
 
 Hor. The dignity that is annexed to the ligniilcation of 
 the word lord, has been better preferved with us, than in moft 
 countries : in Spanifh, Italian, high and low Dutch, it is pro- 
 ftituted to almoft every body, 
 
 Cleo. It has had better fate in France ; where likewife the- 
 wovd Jtre has loft nothing of its majefty, and is only ufed to 
 the monarch; whereas, with us, it is a compliment of addrefs, 
 that may be made to a cobler, as well as to a king, 
 
 Hor. Whatever alterations may be made in the fenfe of 
 words, by time ; yet, as the world grows more polifhed, flat- 
 tery becomes lefs barefaced, and the deiign of it upon man's 
 pride is better difguifed than it was formerly. To praife a 
 man to his face, was very common among the ancients : con- 
 sidering humility to be a virtue particularly required of 
 Chriftians, I have often wondered how the fathers of the 
 church could fufFer thofe acclamations and applaufes, that 
 were made to them whilft they were preaching ; and which, 
 though fome of them fpoke againit them, many of them ap- 
 pear to have been extremely fond of. 
 
 Cleo. Human nature is always the fame; where men ex- 
 ert themfelves to the utmoft, and take uncommon pains, that 
 fpend and wafte the fpirits, thofe applaufes are very reviving : 
 the fathers who fpoke againit them, fpoke chiefly againft the 
 ^abufe of them. 
 
 Hor. It muft have been very odd to hear people bawling 
 out, as often the greateft part of an audience did, Sophos, di- 
 vinitus, non poteft melius, mirabiliter, acriter, ingeniofe: they 
 Bb 
 
379 • THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 told the preachers likewife that they were orthodox, and 
 fometimes called them, apojlolus decimus tertius. 
 
 Cleo. Thefe words at the end of a period might have paf- 
 fed, but the repetitions of them were often fo load and fo ge- 
 neral, and the noife they made with their hands and feet, 
 fo difturbing in and out of feafon, that they could not hear 
 a quarter of the the fermon ; yet feveral fathers owned that it 
 was highly delightful, and foothing human frailty. 
 
 Hor. The behaviour at churches is more decent, as it is 
 now. 
 
 Cleo. Since paganifm has been quite extinct in the old 
 weftern world, the zeal of Chriitians is much diminiihed from 
 wmat it was, when they had many oppofers : the want of 
 fervency had a great hand in abolifning that fafhion. 
 
 Hor. But whether it was the fafhion or not, it muft always 
 have been mocking. 
 
 Cleo. Do you think, that the repeated acclamations, the 
 clapping, ftamping, and the mod extravagant tokens of ap- 
 plaule, that are now ufed at our feveral theatres, were ever 
 ihocking to a favourite actor ; or that the huzzas of the 
 mob, or the hideous fhouts of foldiers, were ever Ihocking to 
 peribns of the higheft diitinction, to whofe honour they were 
 made ? 
 
 Hor. I have known princes that were very much tired 
 with them. 
 
 Cleo. When they had too much of them ; but never at 
 firft. In working a machine, we ought to have regard to 
 the ftrength of its frame : limited creatures are not fufcepti- 
 ble of infinite delight ; therefore we fee, that a pleafure pro- 
 tracted beyond its due bounds becomes a pain : but where 
 the cuftom of the country is not broken in upon, no noife, 
 that is palpably made in our praife, and which we may hear 
 with decency, can ever be ungrateful, if it do not outlaft a 
 reafonable time ; but there is no cordial fo fovereign, that it 
 may not become offenlive, by being taken to excels. 
 
 Hor. And the fweeter and more delicious liquors are, the 
 fooner they become fulfome, and the lefs fit they are to fit by. 
 
 Cleo. Your fimile is not amifs ; and the fame acclamations 
 that are ravifhing to a man at firft, and perhaps continue to 
 give him an unfpeakable delight for eight or nine minutes, 
 may become more moderately pleafing, indifferent, cloying, 
 Iroublefome, and even fo offenlive as to create pain, all in 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 37I 
 
 lefs than three hours, if they were to continue fo long with- 
 out iutermimon. 
 
 Hor. There mud be great witchcraft in founds, that they 
 fhould have fuch different effects upon us, as we often fee 
 they have. 
 
 Cleo. The pleafure we receive from acclamations, is not \i\ 
 the hearing ; but proceeds from the opinion we form of the 
 caufe that produces thofe- founds, the approbation of others. 
 At the theatres all over Italy you have heard, that, when the 
 whole audience demands filence and attention, which there 
 is an eflablifned mark of benevolence and applaufe, the noife 
 they make comes very near, and is hardly to be diftinguifh- 
 ed from our hiding, which with us is the plainer! token of 
 diilike and contempt : and without doubt the cat-calls to af- 
 front Fauftina were far more agreeable to Cozzoni, than the 
 mod artful founds ihe ever heard from her triumphant rival. 
 
 Hor. That was abominable i 
 
 Cleo. The Turks ihow their refpects to their fovereigns by 
 a profound filence, which is ftriclly kept throughout the fe- 
 raglio, and flill more religiouily obferved the nearer you 
 come to the Sultan's apartment. 
 
 Hor. This latter is certainly the politer way of gratifying 
 one's pride. 
 
 Cleo. All that depends upon mode and cuftom. 
 
 Hor, But the offerings that are made to a man's pride in 
 filence, may be enjoyed without the lofs of his hearing, which 
 the other cannot. 
 
 Cleo. That is a trifle, in the gratification of that paffion : 
 we never enjoy higher pleafure, from the appetite we would 
 indulge, than when we feel nothing from any other. 
 
 Hor. But filence expreifes greater homage, and deeper ve- 
 neration, than noife. 
 
 'Cleo. It is good to footh the pride of a drone ; but an ac- 
 tive man loves to have that paffion roufed, and as it were 
 kept awake, whilfl it is gratified ; and approbation from 
 - noife is more unqueftionable than the other : however, I will 
 not determine between them ; much may be faid on both 
 fides. The Greeks and Romans ufed founds, to ftir up men. 
 to noble actions, with great fuccefs; and the filence obferved 
 among the Ottomans has kept them very well in the flavifli 
 fubmiffion which their fovereigns require of them : perhaps 
 the one does better where abfolute power is lodged in one 
 perfon, and the other where there is fome {how .of liberty. 
 Bb2 
 
37 2 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 Both are proper tools to flatter the pride of man, when they 
 are underftood and made ufe of as fuch. I have known a 
 very brave man ufed to the fhouts of war, and highly de- 
 lighted with loud applaufe, be very angry with his butler, 
 for making a little rattling with his plates. 
 
 Hor. An old aunt of mine the other day turned away a 
 very clever fellow, for not walking upon his toes ; and I 
 mtut. own myfelf, that the ftamping of footmen, and all un- 
 mannerly loadnefs of fervants, are very offennve to me ; 
 though I never entered into the reafon of it before now. In 
 our laft converfation, when you defcribed the fymptoms of 
 felf-liking, and what the behaviour would be of an uncivi- 
 lized man, you named laughing: I know it is one of the 
 characleriilics of our fpecies ; pray do you take that to be 
 likewife the refult of pride? 
 
 Cieo. Hobbes is of that opinion, and in mofl inrlances it 
 might be derived from thence ; but there are fome pheno- 
 mena not to be explained by that hypothecs ; therefore I 
 would choofe to fay, that laughter is a mechanical motion, 
 which we are naturally thrown into when we are unaccount- 
 ably pleafed. When our pride is feelingly gratified ; when 
 we hear or fee any thing which we admire or approve of; or 
 when we /are indulging any other paffion or appetite, and 
 the reafon why we are pleafed feems to be jufl and worthy, 
 we are then far from laughing : but when things or actions 
 are odd and ©ut of the way, and happen to pleafe us when 
 we can give no jufl reafon why they ihould do fo, it is then, 
 generally fpeaking, that they make us laugh. 
 
 Hor. I would rather fide with what you faid was Hobbes's 
 opinion : for the things we commonly laugh at are fuch as 
 are fome way or other mortifying, unbecoming, or preju- 
 dicial to others. 
 
 Cieo. But what will you fay to tickling, which will make 
 an infant laugh that is deaf and blind ? 
 
 Hor. Can you account for that by your fyftem ? 
 
 Cieo. Not to my fatisfaction ; but I will tell you what 
 might be faid for it. We know by experience, that the 
 finoother, the fofter, and the more fenfible the fkin is, the 
 more tickliih perfons are, generally fpeaking : we know like- 
 wife, that things rough, fharp, and hard, when they touch 
 the {kin, are difpleafing to us, even before they give pain ; 
 and that, on the contrary, every tiding applied to the Ikin 
 that is foft and fmooth, and not otherwiie oftenfive, is de- 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 373 
 
 lightrul. It is poffible that gentle touches being impreffed 
 on feveral nervous filaments at once, every one of them pro- 
 ducing a pleafing fenfation, may create that confufed plea- 
 fure which is the occafion of laughter. 
 
 Hor. But how came you to think of mechanic motion, in 
 the pleafure of a free agent ? 
 
 Cleo. Whatever free agency we may pretend to in the 
 forming of ideas,, the effect, of them upon the body is inde- 
 pendent of the will. Nothing is more directly oppofite to 
 laughing than frowning : the one draws wrinkles on the fore- 
 head, knits the brows, and keeps the mouth fliut : the other 
 does quite the reverfe ; exporrigere front eih, you know, is a 
 Latin phrafe for being merry. In fighing, the mufcles of the 
 belly and breafl are pulled inward, and the diaphragm is 
 pulled upward more than ordinary ; and we feem to endea- 
 vour, though in vain, to fqueeze and comprefs the heart, 
 * whilft we draw in our breath in a forcible manner ; and 
 when, in that fqueezing pofture, we have taken in as much 
 air as we can contain, we throw it out with the fame vio- 
 lence we fucked it in with, and at the fame time give a fud- 
 den relaxation to all the mufcles we employed before. Na- 
 ture certainly deiigned this for fomething in the labour for 
 felf- prefer vation which fhe forces upon us. How mechani- 
 cally do all creatures that can make any found, cry out, and 
 complain in great afflictions, as well as pain and imminent 
 danger ! In great torments, the efforts of nature are fo vio- 
 lent that way, that, to difappoint her, and prevent the dis- 
 covery of what we feel by founds, and which (he bids us 
 make, we are forced to draw our mouth into a purfe, or elfe 
 fuck in our breath, bite our lips, or fqueeze them clofe to- 
 gether, and ufe the molt effectual means to hinder the air 
 from coming out. In grief we ligh, in mirth we laugh : in. 
 the latter little ftrefs is laid upon the refpiration, and this is 
 performed with lefs regularity than it is at any other time ; 
 all the mufcles without, and every thing within feel loofe, 
 and feem to have no other motion than what is communi- 
 cated to them by the convulfive makes of laughter. 
 
 Hor. I have feen people laugh till they loft all their 
 llrength. 
 
 Cleo How much is all this the reverfe of what we obferve 
 in fighing ! When pain or depth of woe make us cry out, the 
 mouth is drawn round, or at leaft into an oval ; the lips are 
 thrutted forward without touching each other, and the 
 
 Bb 3 
 
374 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 tongue is pulled in, which is the reafon that all nations,, when? 
 they exclaim, cry, Oh ! 
 
 Hor. Why pray I 
 
 Cko. Becaufe whilft the mouth, lips, and tongue, remain 
 in thofe poflures, they can found no other vowel, and no 
 confonan't at all. In laughing, the lips are pulled back, and 
 llramed to draw the mouth in its fulled length. 
 
 Ho?\ I would not have you lay a great ltrefs upon that, 
 for it is the fame in weeping, which is an undoubted iign of 
 forrow. 
 
 Cko. In great afflictions, where the heart is opprefTed, and 
 anxieties which we endeavour to refill, few people can weep ; 
 but when they do, it removes the oppreilion, and feniibly 
 relieves them : for then their refiitance is gone ; and weep- 
 ing in dirtrefs is not fo much a lign of forrow as it is an indi- 
 cation that we can bear our forrow no longer ; and therefore 
 it is counted unmanly to weep, becaufe it feems to give up 
 our flrength, and is a kind of yielding to our grief. But the 
 action of weeping itfelf is not more peculiar to grief than it is 
 to joy in adult people ; and there are men who fhow great 
 fortitude in afflictions, and bear the greatelt misfortunes with 
 dry eyes, that will cry heartily at a moving fcene in a play. 
 Some are ealily wrought upon by one thing, others are 
 iboner affected with another ; but whatever touches us fo 
 forcibly, as to overwhelm the mind, prompts us to weep, 
 and is the mechanical caufe of tears ; and therefore, befides 
 grief, joy, and pity, there are other things no way relating 
 to ourielves, that may have this effect upon us ; luch as the 
 relations of furpriiing events and fudden turns of Providence 
 in behalf of merit ; initances of heroifm, of generolity ; in 
 love, in friendiriip in an enemy ; or the hearing or reading 
 of noble thoughts and fentiments of humanity ; more efpeci- 
 ally if thefe things are conveyed to us fuddenly, in an agree- 
 able manner, and unlooked for, as well as lively expreflions. 
 We mall obferve, likewife, that none are more fubject to this 
 frailty of ihedding tears on fuch foreign accounts, than per- 
 fons of ingenuity and quick apprehenfion ; and thofe among 
 them that are moil benevolent, generous, and open-hearted ; 
 whereas, the dull and rlupid, the cruel, felfiih, and detigning, 
 are very feldom troubled with it. Weeping, therefore, in 
 eamett, is always a fure and involuntary demonflration that 
 fomething (hikes and overcomes the mind, whatever that be 
 which affects it. We find likewife, that outward violence, 
 
^THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 375 
 
 as fharp winds and fmoke, the effluvia of onions, and other 
 volatile ialts, &-c. have the fame effecl upon the external 
 fibres of the lachrymal duels and glands that are expofed, 
 which the fudden fwelling and preiTure of the fpirits has 
 upon thofe within. The Divine Wifdom is in nothing more 
 confpicuous than in the infinite variety of living creatures 
 of different conftruction ; every part of them being contrived 
 with ftupendous fkill, and fitted with the utmoft accuracy 
 for the different purpofes they were defigned for. The human 
 body, above all, is a moft aftonifhing mailer piece of art : 
 the anatomift may have a perfect knowledge of all the bones 
 and their ligaments, the mufcles and their tendons, and be 
 able to diffect every nerve and every membrane with great 
 exactnefs ; the naturaliit., likewife, may dive a great way into 
 the inward economy, and different fymptoms of health and 
 ficknefs : they may all approve of, and admire the curi- 
 ous machine ; but no man can have a tolerable idea of the 
 contrivance, the art, and the beauty of the workmanfhip 
 itfelf, even in thofe things he can fee, without being like- 
 wife verfed in geometry and mechanics. 
 
 Hor. How long is it ago that mathematics were brought 
 into phylic ? that art, I have heard, is brought to great cer- 
 tainty by them. 
 
 Cleo. What you fpeak of is quite another thing. Mathe- 
 matics never had, nor ever can have, any thing to do with 
 phyfic, if you mean by it the art of curing the fick. The 
 firueiure and motions of the body, may perhaps be mecha- 
 nically accounted for, and all fluids are under the laws of 
 hydroftatics ; but we can have no help from any part of the 
 mechanics in the difcovery of things, infinitely remote from 
 light, and entirely unknown as to their lhapes and bulks, 
 Phyficians, with the reft of mankind, are wholly ignorant of 
 the firft principles and conflituent parts of things, in which 
 all the virtues and properties of them confift ; and this, as 
 well of the blood and other juices of the body, as the fimples, 
 and confequently all the medicines they make ufe of. There 
 is no art that has leis certainty than theirs, and the moil 
 valuable knowledge in it arifes from obfervation, and is fuch, 
 as a man of parts and application, who has fitted himielf for 
 that ftudy, can only be poffeffed of after a long and judici- 
 ous experience. But the pretence to mathematics, or the 
 uiefulnefs of it in the cure of difeafes, is a cheat, and as ar- 
 rant a piece of quackery as a ftag;e and a Merry- Andrew. 
 Bb 4 
 
37^ THE FOURTH DIALOGUE* 
 
 Hor. But fmce there is fo much fkill difplayea* in the bone?, 
 mufcles, and groiTer parts, is it not reafonable to think, 
 that there is no lefs art bellowed on thofe that are beyond 
 the reach of our fenfes? 
 
 Cleo. I no wife doubt it : Microfcopes have opened a new 
 world to us, and I am far from thinking, that nature mould 
 leave off her w^ork where we can trace her no further. I am 
 perfuaded that our thoughts, and the affections of the mind, 
 have a more certain and more mechanical influence upon fe- 
 veral parts of the body than has been hitherto or, in all hu- 
 man probability, ever will be difcovered. The viiible effect 
 they have on the eyes and mufcles of the face, mull fhow the 
 leait attentive the reafon I have for this affertion. When 
 in mens company we are upon our guard, and would preferve 
 our dignity, the lips are fhut and the jaws meet ; the mufcles 
 of the mouth are gently braced, and the reft all over the 
 face are kept firmly in their places : turn away from thefe 
 into another room, where you meet with a fine young lady 
 that is affable and eafy ; immediately, before you think on 
 it, your countenance will be ftrangely altered; and without 
 being confcious of having done any thing to your face, you 
 will have quite another look; and every body that has ob- 
 ferved you, will difcover in it more fweetnefs and lefs feveri- 
 ty than you had the moment before. When we fuffer the 
 lower jaw to fink down, the mouth opens a little : if in this 
 pofture we look ftraight before us, without fixing our eyes on 
 any thing, we may imitate the countenance of a natural ; by 
 dropping, as it were, our features, and laying no ftrefs on 
 any mulcle of the face. Infants, before they have learned 
 to fwallow their fpktle, generally keep their mouths open, 
 and are always drivelling : in them, before they fhow any 
 undernanding, and whiltt it is yet very confufed, the mufcles 
 of the face are, as it were, relaxed, the lower jaw falls down, 
 and the fibres of the lips are unbraced ; at leaft, thefe phe- 
 nomena we obferve in them, during that time, more often 
 than we do afterwards. In extreme old age, when people 
 begin to doat, thofe fymptoms return ; and in moil idiots 
 they continue to be obferved, as long as they live : Hence 
 it is that we fay, that a man wants a flabbering-bib, when 
 he behaves very fillily, or talks like a natural fool. When 
 we reflect on all this, on the one hand, and conlider on the 
 other, that none are lefs prone to anger than idiots, and 
 no creatures are lefs affected with pride, I would afk, 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 377 
 
 Whether there is not fome degree of felf-liking, that me- 
 chanically influences, and feems to affift us in the decent 
 wearing of our faces. 
 
 Hor. I cannot refolve you ; what I know very well is, 
 that by thele conjectures on the mechanifm of man, I find 
 my underftanding very little informed : I wonder how we 
 came upon the fubject. 
 
 Cleo. You inquired into the origin of rilibility, which no- 
 body can give an account of, with any certainty ; and in 
 fuch cafes every body is at liberty to make gueiles, fo they 
 draw no conclufions from them to the prejudice of any thing 
 better eftablifhed. But the chief delign 1 had in giving you 
 thefe indigerted thoughts, was to hint to you, how really 
 myiterious the works of nature are ; I mean, how replete 
 they are every where, with a power glaringly confpicuous, 
 and yet incomprehenfible beyond all human reach ; in 
 order to demonilrate, that more ufeful knowledge may be 
 acquired from unwearied obfsrvation, judicious experience, 
 and arguing from facts a pq/leriori, than from the haughty at- 
 tempts of entering into firit caufes, and reafoning a priori. I 
 do not believe there is a man in the world of that fagacity, 
 if he was wholly unacquainted with the nature of a ipring- 
 watch, that he would ever find out by dint of penetration 
 the caufe of its motion, if he was never to fee the iniide: but 
 every middling capacity may be certain, by feeing only the 
 outride, that its pointing at the hour, and keeping to time, 
 proceed from the exactnefs of fome curious workmanfhip that 
 is hid ; and that the motion of the hands, what number of 
 reforts foever it is communicated by, is originally owing to 
 fomething elfe that rlrft moves within. In the fame manner 
 we are fure, that as the effects of thought upon the body are 
 palpable, feveral motions are produced by it, by contact, 
 and confequently mechanically: but the parts, the infix u- 
 ments which that operation is performed with, are fo im- 
 menfely far remote from our fenfes, and the fwiftnefs of the 
 action is fo prodigious, that it infinitely furpalles our capacity 
 to trace them. 
 
 Hor. But is not thinking the bufinefs of the foul? What 
 has mechanifm to do with that ? 
 
 Cleo. The foul, whiiit m the body, cannot be faid to think, 
 otherwife than an architect is faid to build a houle, where the 
 carpenters, bricklayers, &cc. do the work, which he chalks 
 out and fuperintends. 
 
37 8 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. Which part of the brain do you think the foul to be 
 more immediately lodged in ; or do you take it to be dif- 
 fufed through the whole ? 
 
 Cleo. I know nothing of it more than what I have told 
 you already. 
 
 Hor. I plainly feel that this operation of thinking is a la- 
 bour, or at leaft fomething that is tranfacting in my head, 
 and not in my leg nor my arm : what infight or real know- 
 ledge have we from anatomy concerning it ? 
 
 Cleo. None at all a priori: the moil confummate ana- 
 tomift knows no more of it than a butcher's apprentice. We 
 may admire the curious duplicate of coats, and clofe embroi- 
 dery of veins and arteries that environ the brain : but when 
 diiTecting it we have viewed the feveral pairs of nerves, with 
 their origin, and taken notice of fome glands of various 
 fhapes and iizes, which differing from the brain in fubftance, 
 could not but rufh in view ; when thefe, I fay^ have been 
 taken notice of, and diflinguifhed by different names, fome of 
 them not very pertinent, and lefs polite, the bed naturaliit 
 mult acknowledge, that even of thefe large vifible parts there 
 are but few, the nerves and blood- veffeis excepted, at the 
 ufe of which he can give any tolerable gueffes : but as to 
 the myfterious ftrudture of the brain itfelf, and the more ab- 
 ffrufe economy of it, that he knows nothing; but that the 
 whole feems to be a medullary fubftance, compactly treafured 
 up in infinite millions of imperceptible cells, that, difpofed in 
 an unconceivable order, are cluttered together in a perplex- 
 ing variety of folds and windings. He will add, perhaps, 
 that it is reafonable to think this to be the capacious exche- 
 quer of human knowledge, in which the faithful fenfes depo- 
 iite the vaft treafure of images,- conftantly, as through their 
 organs they receive them ; that it is the office in which the 
 fpirits are feparated from the blood, and afterwards fublimed 
 and volatilized into particles hardly corporeal ; and that the 
 moil minute of thefe are always, either fearching for, or va- 
 riouily difpofmg the images retained, and mooting through 
 the infinite meanders of that wonderful fubftance, employ 
 themfelves, without ceafing, in that inexplicable perform- 
 ance, the contemplation of which fills the molt exalted genius 
 with amazement. 
 
 Hor. Thefe are very airy conjectures ; but nothing of all 
 this can be proved : The fmallnefs of the parts, you will fay? 
 is the reafon \ but if greater improvements were made in op- 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 37^ 
 
 tic glafle's, and microfcopes could be invented that m agniz- 
 ed objects three or four millions of times more than they do 
 now, then certainly thofe minute particles, fo immenfely re- 
 mote from the fenfesyou fpeak of, might be obferved, if that 
 which does the work is corporeal at all. 
 
 Cleo. That fuch improvements are impofiible, is demon- 
 ftrable ; but if it was not, even then we could have little help 
 from anatomy. The brain of an animal cannot be looked 
 and fearched into whilft it is alive. Should you take the ; 
 main fpring out of a watch, and leave the barrel that con- 
 tained it ftanding empty, it would be impofiible to find out 
 what it had been that made it exert itfelf, whilft it mowed 
 the time. We might examine all the wheels, and every 
 other part belonging either to the movement or the motion, 
 and, perhaps, find out the ufe of them, in relation to the 
 turning of the hands ; but the firfl caufe of this labour would 
 remain a myflery for ever. 
 
 Hor. The main fpring in us is the foul, which is immate- 
 rial and immortal : but what is that to other creatures that 
 have a brain like ours, and no fuch immortal fubflance dif- 
 tinct from body ? Do not you believe' that dogs and horfes 
 think ? 
 
 Cleo. I believe they do, though in a degree of perfection 
 far inferior to us. 
 
 Hor. What is it that fuperintends thought in them? where 
 muft we look for it ? which is the main fpring ? 
 
 Cleo. I can anfwer you no other wife, than life. 
 
 Hor. What is life ? 
 
 Cleo. Every body underftands the meaning of the word, 
 though, perhaps, nobody knows the principle of life, that 
 part which gives motion to all the reft. 
 
 Hor. Where men are certain that the truth of a thing is 
 not to be known, they will always differ, and endeavour to 
 impofe upon one another. 
 
 Cleo. Whilft there are fools and knaves, they will ; but I 
 have not impofed upon you : what I faid of the labour of the 
 brain, I told you, was a conjecture, which I recommend no- 
 farther to you than you fhall think it probable. You ought 
 to expect no demonftration of a thing, that from its nature 
 can admit of none. When the breath is gone, and the cir- 
 culation ceafed, the infide of an animal is vaftly different 
 from what it was whilft the lungs played, and the blood and 
 juices were in full motion through every part of it. You 
 
 7 
 
380 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE* 
 
 have feen thofe engines that raife water by the help of fire | 
 the fleam you know, is that which forces it up ; it is as im- 
 poffible to fee the volatile particles that perform the labour 
 of the brain, when the creature is dead, as in the engine it 
 would be to fee the {team (which yet does all the work), 
 when the fire is out and the water cold. Yet if this engine 
 was mown to a man when it w T as not at work, and it was ex- 
 plained to him, w 7 hich way it raifed the water, it would be a 
 ftrange incredulity, or great dullnefs of apprehenfion, not to 
 believe it ; if he knew perfectly well, that by heat, liquids 
 may be rarified into vapour. 
 
 Hor. But do not you think there is a difference in fouls; 
 and are they all equally good or equally bad ? 
 
 Geo. We have fome tolerable ideas of matter and motion ; 
 or, at leaf!, of what we mean by them, and therefore we may 
 form ideas of things corporeal, though they are beyond the 
 reach of our fenfes ; and we can conceive any portion of 
 matter a thoufand times lefs than our eyes, even by the help 
 of the beft microfcopes, are able to fee it : but the foul is al- 
 together incomprehenfible, and we can determine but little 
 about it, that is not revealed to us. I believe that the differ- 
 ence of capacities in men, depends upon, and is entirely 
 owing to the difference there is between them, either in the 
 fabric itfelf, that is, the greater or leffer exactnefs in the com- 
 pofure of their frame, or elfe in the ufe that is made of it. 
 The brain of a child, newly born, is charte blanche ; and, 
 as you have hinted very juftly, we have no ideas, which we 
 are not obliged for to our fenfes. I make no queftion, but 
 that in this rummaging of the fpirits through the brain, in 
 hunting after, joining, feparating, changing, and compound- 
 ing of ideas with inconceivable fwiftnefs, under the fuperin- 
 tendency of the foul, the action of thinking confifts. The 
 beft thing, therefore, we can do to infants after the firft 
 month, befides feeding and keeping them from harm, is to 
 make them take in ideas, beginning by the two moft ufeful 
 fenfes, the light and hearing ; and difpofe them to fet about 
 this labour of the brain, and by our example encourage them 
 to imitate us in thinking ; which, on their fide, is very poor- 
 ly performed at firft. Therefore the more an infant in 
 health is talked to and jumbled about, the better it is for it, 
 at leaft, for the firft two years ; and for its attendance in this 
 early education, to the wifeft matron in the world, I would 
 prefer an active young wench, whofe tongue never ftands 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 3SI 
 
 ftill, that mould run about, and never ceafe diverting and 
 plaving with it whilft it was awake ; and where people can 
 afford it, two or three of them, to relieve one another when 
 they are tired, are better than one. 
 
 Hor. Then you think children reap great benefit from the 
 nonfenfical chat of nurfes? 
 
 Cleo. It is of ineftimable ufe to them, and teaches them to 
 think, as well as fpeak, much feoner and better, than with 
 equal aptitude of parts they would do without. The bufi- 
 nefs is to make them exert thofe faculties, and keep infants 
 continually employed about them ; for the time which is 
 loft then, is never to be retrieved. 
 
 Hor. Yet we feldom remember any thing of what we faw 
 or heard, before we were two years old: then what would be 
 loft, if children fhould not hear all that impertinence? 
 
 Cleo. As iron is to be hammered whilft it is hot and duc- 
 tile, fo children are to be taught when they are young : as 
 the flefh and every tube and membrane about them, are then 
 tenderer, and will yield fooner to flight impreilions, than af- 
 terwards ; fo many of their bones are but cartilages, and the 
 brain itfelf is much fofter, and in a manner fluid. This is the 
 reafon, that it cannot fo well retain the images it receives, as 
 it does afterwards, when the fubftance of it comes to be of a 
 better confiftence. But as the firft images are loft, fo they 
 are continually fucceeded by new ones ; and the brain at 
 firft ferves as a flate to cypher, or a fampler to work upon. 
 What infants fhould chiefly learn, is the performance itfelf, 
 the exercife of thinking, and to contract a habit of difpofing, 
 and with eafe and agility managing the images retained, to 
 the purpofe intended ; which is never attained better than 
 whilft the matter is yielding, and the organs are moft flexible 
 and fupple. So they but exercife themfelves in thinking and 
 fpeaking, it is no matter what they think on, or what they 
 fay, that is inoffenfive. In fprightly infants, we focn fee by 
 their eyes the efforts they are making to imitate us, before 
 they are able ; and that they try at this exeicife of the brain, 
 and make effays to think, as well as they do to hammer out 
 words, we may know from the incoherence of their actions, 
 and the ftrange abfurdities they utter : but as there are more 
 degrees of thinking well, than there are of fpeaking plain, 
 the firft is of the greateft confequence. 
 
 Hor. I wonder you fhould talk of teaching, and lay fo 
 great a ftrefs on a thing that comes fo naturally to us, as 
 
3$2 TOE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 thinking : no action is performed with greater velocity by 
 every body : as quick as thought, is a proverb, and in lefs 
 than a moment a ftupid peafant may remove his ideas from 
 London to Japan, as eafiiy as the greater!: wit. 
 
 Cleo. Yet there is nothing, in which men differ fo im- 
 menfely from one another, as they do in the exercife of this 
 faculty : the differences between them in height, bulk, 
 ffrength, and beauty, are trifling in comparifon to that which 
 I fpeak of; and there is nothing in the world more valuable, 
 or more plainly perceptible in perfons, than a happy dexteri- 
 ty of thinking. Two men may have equal knowledge, and 
 yet the one mall fpeak as well off-hand, as the other can af- 
 ter two hours fludy. 
 
 Hor. I take it for granted, that no man would fludy two 
 Tiours for a fpeech, if he knew how to make it in lefs ; and 
 therefore I cannot fee what reafon you have to fuppofe two 
 fuch perfons to be of equal knowledge. 
 
 Cleo. There is a double meaning in the word knowing, 
 which you feem not to attend to. There is a great differ- 
 ence between knowing a violin when you fee it, and know- 
 ing how to play upon it. The knowledge I fpeak of 
 is of the firfl fort ; and if you confider it in that fenfe, 
 you muff be of my opinion ; for no fludy can fetch any 
 thing out of the brain that is not there. Suppofe you con- 
 ceive a fhort epiflle in three minutes, which another, who 
 can make letters and join them together as faff as your- 
 felf, is yet an hour about, though both of you write the fame 
 thing, it is plain to me, that the flow perfon knows as much 
 as you do ; at lead it does not appear that he knows lefs. He 
 has received the fame images, but he cannot come at them, 
 or at lead not difpofe them in that order, fo foon as yourfelf. 
 When we fee two exercifes of equal goodnefs, either in profe 
 or verfe, if the one is made ex tempore, and we are fure of it, 
 and the other has coft two d lys labour, the author of the firfl 
 is a perfon of finer natural pa;ts than the other, though their 
 knowledge, for ought we know, is the fame. You fee, then, 
 the difference between knowledge, as it fignifies the treafure 
 of images received, and knowledge, or rather fkill, to find 
 out thole images when we want them, and w T ork them readi- 
 ly to our purpofe, 
 
 Hor. When we know a thing, and cannot readily think of 
 it, or bring it to mind, I thought that was the fault of the 
 memory* 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 383 
 
 C&». So it may be in part : but there are men of prodi- 
 gious reading, that have likewife great memories, who judge 
 ill, and feldom fay any thing a propos, or fay it when it is too 
 late. Among the belluones Kbrorum, the cormorants of books, 
 there are wretched reafoners, that have canine appetites, and 
 no digeftion. What numbers of learned fools do we not 
 meet with in large libraries ; from whofe works it is evident, 
 that knowledge muft have lain in their heads, as furniture at 
 an upholder's; and the treafure of the brain was a burden to 
 them inftead of an ornament ! All this proceeds from a de- 
 fecft in the faculty of thinking ; an unikilfulnefs, and want 
 of aptitude in managing, to the be ft advantage, the ideas we 
 have received. We fee others, on the contrary, that have 
 very fine fenfe, and no literature at all. The generality of 
 women are quicker of invention, and more ready at repartee, 
 than the men, with equal helps of education; anrl it is fur- 
 priiing to fee, what a confiderable figure fome of them make 
 in converfation, when w T e confider the fmall opportunities 
 they have had of acquiring knowledge. 
 
 Hor. But found judgment is a great rarity among them. 
 
 Geo. Only for want of practice, application, and affiduity. 
 Thinking on abftrufe matters, is not their province in life ; 
 and as the ftaticns they are commonly placed in find them 
 other employment ; but there is no labour of the brain 
 which women are not as capable of performing, at leaft as 
 well as the men, with the fame aftiitance, if they fet about, 
 and perfevere in it : found judgment is no more than the 
 refult of that labour : he that ufes himfelf to take things to 
 pieces, to compare them together, to confider them abftracl:- 
 ly and impartially ; that is, he who of two propositions 
 he is to examine feems not to care which is true ; he 
 that lays the whole ftrefs of his mind on every part alike, 
 and puts the fame thing in all the views it can be feen 
 in : he, I fay, that employs himfelf rnoft often in this exercife, 
 is moft likely ceteris paribus to acquire what we call a found 
 judgment. The workmanfhip in the make of women feems 
 to be more elegant, and better finifhed : the features are 
 more delicate, the voice is fweeter, the whole outfide of thein 
 is more curiouily wove, than they are in men; and the dif- 
 . ference in the lkin between theirs and ours is the fame, as 
 there is between fine cloth and coarfe. There is no reafon 
 to imagine, that nature fhould have been more neglectful of 
 them out of fight, than {lie has where we can trace her -> and 
 
384 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 not have taken the fame care of them in the formation, of 
 the brain, as to the nicety of the ftructure, and fuperior ac- 
 curacy in the fabric, which is fo viiible in the reft of their 
 fame. 1 4 
 
 Ear. Beauty is their attribute, as ftrength is ours. 
 
 Cleo. How minute foever thofe particles of the brain are, 
 that contain the feveral images, and are affifting in the ope- 
 ration of thinking, there muft be a difference in the juft- 
 nefs, the fymraetry, and exa&nefs of them between one 
 perfon and another, as well as there is' in the grofTer parts: 
 what the women excel us in, then, is the goodnefs of the in- 
 firument, either in the harmony or pliablenefs of the organs, 
 which mult be very material in the art of thinking, and is 
 the only thing that deferves the name of natural parts, lince 
 the aptitude 1 have ipoke of, depending upon exercife, is no- 
 tor ioufly acquired. 
 
 Hor. As the workman/hip in the brain is rather more cu- 
 rious in women than it is in men, fo, in fheep and oxen, 
 and horfes, I i'uppofe it is infinitely coarier. 
 
 Cleo. We have no reafon to think otherwife, 
 
 Hor. But after all, that felf, that part of us that wills and 
 wiih^s, that chooies one thing rather than another, muft be 
 incorporeal : For if it is matter, it muft either be one fingle 
 particle, which I can ulmoft feel it is not, or a combination 
 01 many, which is more than inconceivable. 
 
 Cleo. I do not deny what you fay ; and that the principle 
 of thought and action is inexplicable in all creatures 1 have 
 hinted already : But its being incorporeal does not mend the 
 matter, as to the difficulty of explaining or conceiving it. 
 That there muft be a mutual contact between this principle, 
 whatever it is, and the body itfelf, is what we are certain of 
 a pojleriori ; and a reciprocal action upon each other, between 
 an immaterial fubllance and matter, is as incomprehenfible 
 to human capacity, as that thought fhould be the remit of 
 matter and motion. 
 
 Hor. Though many other animals feem to be endued 
 with thought, there is no creature we are acquainted with, 
 beiides man, that fhow r s or feems to feel a confcioulhefs of 
 his thinking. 
 
 Cleo. It is not eafy to determine what inftincts, properties, 
 or capacities other creatures are either pofleffed or deftitute 
 of, when thofe qualifications fall not under our fenfes : But 
 it is highly probable, that the principal and molt neceffary 
 
 7 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE,, 385 
 
 parts of the machine are lefs elaborate in animals, that attain 
 to all the perfection they are capable of in three, four, five, 
 or fix years at further!, than they are in a creature that hard-, 
 ly comes to maturity, its full growth and ftrength in five and 
 twenty. The conicioufnefs of a man of fifty, that he is the 
 fame man that did fuch a thing at twenty, and was once the 
 boy that had fuch and fuch mailers, depends wholly upon 
 the memory, and can never be traced to the bottom : I 
 mean, that no man remembers any thing of himfelf, or what 
 was tranfacted before he was two years old, when he was but 
 a novice in the art of thinking, and the brain was not yet 
 cf a due confidence to retain long the images it received : 
 But this remembrance, how tar foever it may reach, gives us 
 no greater furety of ourfelves, than w<e ihould have of ano- 
 ther that had been brought up with us, and never above a 
 week or a month out of fight. A mother, when her fon is 
 thirty years old, has more reafon to know that he is the 
 fame whom fhe brought into the world than himfelf; and 
 fuch a one, who daily minds her fon, and remembers the al- 
 terations of his features from time to time, is more certain of 
 him that he was not changed in the cradle, than fhe can be 
 of herfelf. So that all w T e can know of this conicioufnefs, is, 
 that it confifts in, or is the refult of the running and rumma- 
 ging of the fpirits through all the mazes of the brain, and 
 their looking there for facts concerning ourfelves : He that 
 has loft his memory, though otherwife in perfect, health, 
 cannot think better than a fool, and is no more confcious 
 that he is the fame he was a-year ago, than he is of a man 
 whom he has known but a fortnight. There are Lveral de- 
 grees of loiing our memory ; but he who has entirely loft it 
 becomes, ipjofacio, an idiot. 
 
 Hor. I am confcious of having been the occafion of our 
 rambling a great way from the fubject we were upon, but I 
 do not repent of it : What you have faid of the economy of 
 the brain, and the mechanical influence of thought upon 
 the grofier parts, is a noble theme for contemplation on the 
 infinite unutterable wifdom with which the various inftincts 
 are fo vifibly planted in all animals, to fit them for the re- 
 fpeclive purpofes they were defigned for ; and every appe- 
 tite is fo wonderfully interwove with the very fubftance of 
 their frame. Nothing could be more feafonable, after you 
 had ihowed me the origin of politenefs, and in the manage- 
 ment of felf-liking, fet forth the excellency of our fpecies 
 
 C c 
 
3 86 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 beyond all other animals fo confpicuoully in the fuperlative 
 dbcilility and indefatigable induftry, by which all multi- 
 tudes are capable of drawing innumerable benefits, as well 
 for the eafe and comfort, as the welfare and fafety of congre- 
 gate bodies, from a molt flubborn and an unconquerable 
 paffion, which, in its nature, feems to be deftructive to fo- 
 ciablenefs and fociety, *and never fails, in untaught men, to 
 render'them infuflerable to one another. 
 
 Cleo. By the fame method of reafoning from facts a pojle- 
 riori, that has laid open to us the nature and ufefulnefs of 
 felf-liking, all the reft of the paffions may ealily be account- 
 ed for, and become intelligible. It is evident, that the ne- 
 ceffaries of life ftand not every where ready difhed up before 
 all creatures ; therefore they have iniiindls that prompt them 
 to look out for thofe neceiTaries, and teach them how to 
 come at them. The zeal and alacrity to gratify their appe- 
 tites, is always proportioned to the ftrength, and the degree 
 of force with which thofe inftincts work upon every crea- 
 ture : But, confidering the difpofition of things upon earth, 
 and the multiplicity of animals that have all their own wants 
 to fupply, it mull be obvious, that thefe attempts of crea- 
 tures, to obey the different calls of nature, will be often op- 
 pofcd and fruftrated, and that, in many animals, they would 
 feldom meet with fuccefs, if every individual was not endued 
 with a paffion, that, fummoning all his ftrength, infpired him 
 with a tranfporring eagernefs to overcome the obflacles that 
 hinder him in his great work of felf-prefervation. The paf- 
 fion I defcribe is called anger. How a creature poflefTed of 
 this paffion and felf-liking, when he fees others enjoy what 
 he wants, fhonld be affected with envy, can like wife be no 
 rnyftecy. After labour, the moft favage, and the molt indu- 
 flrious creature feeks reft : Hence we learn, that all of them 
 are furriifhed, more or lefs, with a love of eafe : Exerting their 
 ftrength tires them ; and the lofs of fpirits, experience teaches 
 us, is belt repaired by food and fleep. We fee that crea- 
 tures, who, in their way of living, muft meet with the great- 
 eft oppofition, have the greateft fhare of anger, and are born 
 with ofienfive arms. IF this anger was to employ a creature al- 
 ways, without confideration of the danger he expofed himfelf 
 to, he would foon be deftroyed : For this reafon, they are all 
 endued with fear; and the lion himfelf turns tail, if the 
 hunters are armed, and too numerous. From what we ob- 
 ferve in the behaviour of brutes, we have reafon to think, 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 387 
 
 that among the more perfect animals, thofe of the fame fpe- 
 cies have a capacity, on many occafions, to make their wants 
 known to one another ; and we are fure of feveral, not only 
 that they underfland one another, but likewife that they 
 may be made to underfland us. In comparing our fpecies 
 with that of other animals, when we coniider the make of 
 man, and the qualifications that are obvious in him, his fu- 
 perior capacity in the faculties of thinking and reflecting be- 
 yond other creatures, his being capable of learning to fpeak, 
 and the ufefulnefs of his hands and fingers, there is no room 
 to doubt, that he is more fit for fociety than any other ani- 
 mal we know. 
 
 Hor. Since you wholly reject my Lord Shaftfbury's fyf- 
 tem, I wifh you would give me your opinion at large con- 
 cerning fociety, and the fociablenefs of man ; and I will 
 hearken to you with great attention. 
 
 Geo. The caufe of fociablenefs in man, that is, his fitnefs 
 for fociety, is no fuch abftrufe matter : A perfon of middling 
 capacity, that has fome experience, and a tolerable know- 
 ledge of human nature, may foon find it out, if his defire of 
 knowing the truth be iincere, and he will look for it without 
 preporTerlion ; but moil people that have , treated on this 
 Subject, had a turn to ferve, and a caufe in view, which, 
 they were refolved to maintain. It is very unworthy of a 
 philofopher to fay, as Hobbes did, that man is born unfit 
 for fociety, and allege no better reafon for it, than the inca- 
 pacity that infants come into the world with; but fome of 
 his adverfaries have as far overfhot the mark, when they 
 afferted, that every thing which man can attain to, ought to 
 be efteemed as a caufe of his fitnefs for fociety. 
 
 Hor. But is there in the mind of man a natural affection, 
 that prompts him to love his fpecies beyond what other ani- 
 mals have for theirs ; or, are we born with hatred and aver- 
 fion, that makes us wolves and bears to one another? 
 
 Geo. I believe neither. From what appears to us in hu- 
 man affairs, and the works of nature, we have more reafon 
 to imagine, that the defire, as well as aptnefs of man to afTo- 
 ciate, do not proceed from his love to others, than we have 
 to believe that a mutual affection of the planets to one ano- 
 ther, fuperior to what they feel to fears more remote, is not 
 the true caufe why they keep always moving together in the 
 fame folarfy item. 
 
 Cc 2 
 
3S8 TKE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. You do not believe that the flars have any love for 
 one another, I am fure : Then why more reafon ? 
 
 Cleo. Becaufe there are no phenomena plainly to contra- 
 did this love of the planets ; and we meet with thoufands 
 every day to convince us, that man centres every thing in 
 himfelf, and neither loves nor hates, but for his own fake*, 
 Every individual is a little world by itfelf, and all creatures, 
 as far as their underftanding and abilities will let them, en- 
 deavour to make that felf happy : This, in all of them, is the 
 continual labour, and feems to be the whole deiign of life. 
 Hence it follows, that in the choice of things, men mult be 
 determined by the perception they have of happinefs ; and 
 no perfon can commit, or fet about an action, which, at that 
 then prefent time, feems not to be the be ft to him. 
 
 Hor. What will you then fay to, video mellora probcque, 
 deter io / a fiquor P 
 
 Cleo. That only mows the turpitude of our inclinations. 
 But men may fay what they pleafe : Every motion in a free 
 agent, which he does not approve of, is either convulfive, or 
 it is not his ; I fpeak of thole that are iubject to the will. 
 When two things are left to a perfon's choice, it is a demon- 
 stration that he thinks that moll eligible which he choofes, 
 how contradictory, impertinent, or pernicious foever his rea- 
 fon for chooffng it may be : Without this, there could be no 
 voluntary filicide ; and it would be injuftice to punifh men 
 for their crimes. 
 
 Hor. I believe everybody endeavours to be pleafed ; but it 
 is inconceivable that creatures of the fame fpecies mould differ 
 ib much from one another, as men do in their notions of 
 pleafure ; and that fome of them ihould take delight in what 
 is the greateft averffon to others : All aim at happinefs ; but 
 the queftion is, Where is it to be found ? 
 
 Cleo. It is with complete felicity in this world, as it is with 
 the philofopher's ftone : Both have been foughr. after many 
 different ways, by wife men as well as fools, though neither 
 of them has been obtained hitherto : But in fearching after 
 either, diligent inquirers have often {tumbled by chance on 
 ufeful difcoveries of things they dia not look for, and which 
 human fagacity, labouring with deiign a priori, never would 
 have detected. Multitudes of our fpecies may, in any habi- 
 table part of the globe, affift one another in a common de- 
 fence, and be railed into a politic body, in which men mail 
 live comfortably together for many centuries, without being 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 389 
 
 acquainted with a thoufand things, that if known, would 
 every one of them be inftrumental to render the happinefs 
 of the public more complete, according to the common no- 
 tions men have of happinefs. In one part of the world, we 
 have found great and fiourifhing nations that knew nothing 
 of ihips ; and in others, traffic by fea had been in ufe above 
 two thoufand years, and navigation had received innumer- 
 able improvements, before they knew how to fail by the 
 help of the loadftone : It would be ridiculous to allege this 
 piece of knowledge, either as a reafon why man firft chofe 
 to go to fea, or as an argument to prove his natural capacity 
 for maritime affairs. To raife a garden, it is necefTary that 
 we mould have a foil and a climate fit for that purpofe. 
 When we have thefe, we want nothing befides patience, but 
 the feeds of vegetables and proper culture. Fine walks and 
 canals, (tatues, fummer-houfes, fountains, and cafcades, are 
 great improvements on the delights of nature ; but they are 
 not eifential to the exiltence of a garden. All nations mult 
 have had mean beginnings ; and it is in thofe, the infancy of 
 them, that the fociablenefs of man is as confpicuous as it can 
 be ever after. Man is called a fociable creature chiefly for 
 two reafons : Firft, becaufe it is commonly imagined that he 
 is naturally more fond and defirous of fociety, than any other 
 creature. Secondly, becaufe it is manifeft, that affociating 
 in men turns to better account than it poffibly could do in 
 other animals, if they were to attempt it. 
 
 Hor, But why do you fay of the firft, that it is commonly 
 imagined ; is it not true then ? 
 
 Cleo. I have a very good reafon for this caution. All men 
 born in fociety, are certainly more defirous of it than any 
 other animal ; but whether man be naturally fo, that is a 
 queflion : But, if he was, it is no excellency, nothing to brag 
 of: The love man has for his eafe and fecurity, and his per- 
 petual defire of meliorating his condition, rauft be fufficient 
 motives to make him fond of fociety, concerning the necef- 
 fitous and helplefs condition of his nature. 
 
 Hor. Do not you fall into the fame' error, which, you fay, 
 Hobbes has been guilty of, when you talk of man's necefli- 
 tous and helplefs condition ? 
 
 Cleo. Not at all ; I fpeak of men and women full grown ; 
 
 and the more extenfive- their knowledge is, the higher their 
 
 quality, and the greater their pofTefTions are, the nore necef, 
 
 iitous and helplefs they are in their nature. A nobleman of 
 
 Cc 3 
 
3Q0 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 twenty-five or thirty thoufand pounds a-year, that has three 
 or four coaches and fix, and above fifty people to ferve him, 
 is in his perfon confidered fingly, abftract from what he pof- 
 feiTes, more neceffitous than an obfcure man that has but fif- 
 ty pounds a-year, and is ufed to walk a-foot ; fo a lady, 
 w r ho nevet ftuck a pin in herfelf, and is dreiied and undrefTed 
 from head to foot like a jointed baby by her woman, and the 
 aiiiftance of another maid or two, is a more helplefs creature 
 than doll the diary-maid, who, all the winter long, dreiTes 
 herfelf in the dark in leis time than the other bellows in pla- 
 cing of her patches. 
 
 Hor. But is the defire of meliorating our condition which 
 you named, fo general, that no man is without it ? 
 
 Cleo. Not one that can be calied a fociable creature ; and 
 I believe this to be as much a charalieriitic of our fpecies as 
 any can be named : For there is not a man in the world, edu- 
 cated in ibciety, who, if he could compafs it by wifhing, would 
 not have fomething added to, taken from, or altered in his 
 perfon, pofleiiions, circumfiances, or any part of the fociety 
 he belongs to. This is what is not to be perceived in any 
 creature but man; whofe great induitry in fupplying what 
 he calls his wants, could never have been known fo well as 
 it is, if it had not been for the unreafonablenefs, as well as 
 multiplicity of his defires. From all which, it is manifeft, 
 that the moil: civilized people fland moil; in need of ibciety, 
 and confequently, none leis than lavages. The fecond rea- 
 fon for which I laid man was calied fociable, is, that affocia- 
 ting together turned to better account in our fpecies than it 
 would do in any other, if they were to try it. To find out 
 the reafon of this, we mult fearchinto human nature for fuch 
 qualifications as we excel all other animals in, and which 
 the generality of men are endued with, taught or untaught: 
 But in doing this, we fhould neglect nothing that is obferv- 
 able in them, from their moil early youth to their extreme 
 old age. 
 
 Hor. I cannot fee why you ufe this precaution, of taking 
 in the whole age of man ; would it not be funicient to mind 
 thofe qualifications which he is poirefTed of, when he is come 
 to the height of maturity, or his greater! perfection ? 
 
 Cleo. A considerable part of what is called docility in crea- 
 tures, depends upon the pliablenefs of the parts, and their rit- 
 nefs to be moved with facility, which are either entirely loft, 
 pr very much impaired, when they are full grown. There is 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 39 1 
 
 nothing in which our fpecies fo far furpaffes all others, than in 
 the capacity of acquiring the faculty of thinking and f peak- 
 ing well : that this is a peculiar property belonging to our 
 nature is very certain,, yet it is as manifeft, that this capacity 
 vanifhes, when we come to maturity, if till then it has been 
 neglected. The term of life likewife, that is commonly en- 
 joyed by our fpecies, being longer than it is in mod other a- 
 nimals, we have a prerogative above them* in point of time; 
 and man has a greater opportunity of advancing in wifdom, 
 though not to be acquired but by his own experience, than a 
 creature that lives but half his age, though it had the fame 
 capacity. A man of threefcore, ceteris paribus, knows bet- 
 ter what is to be embraced or avoided in life, than a man of 
 thirty. What Mitio, in excuiing the follies of youth, faid to 
 his brother Demea, in the Adelphi, ad omnia alia JEtate fapi- 
 mus reciius, holds among favages, as well as among philofo- 
 phers. It is the concurrence of thefe, with other properties, 
 that together compofe the fociablenefs of man'. 
 
 Hor. But why may not the love of our fpecies be named, 
 as one of thefe properties ? 
 
 Cleo. Firft, becauie, as I have faid already, it does not ap- 
 pear, that we have it beyond other animals : fecondly, be- 
 caufe it is out of the quefticn : for if we examine into the 
 nature of all bodies politic, we fhall find, that no dependance 
 is ever had, or ftrefs laid on any fuch affection, either for the 
 raifing or maintaining of them. 
 
 Hor. But the epithet itfelf, the iignification of the w T ord, 
 imports this love to one another; as is manifeft from the 
 contrary. One who loves folitude, is averfe to company, 
 or of a lingular, referved, and fullen temper, is the very re- 
 verfe of a fociable man. 
 
 Cleo. When we compare fome men to others, the word, I 
 own, is often ufed in that fenfe : but when we fpeak of a 
 quality peculiar to our fpecies, and fay, that man is a fociable 
 creature, the word implies no more, than that in our nature 
 we have a certain rltnefs, by which great multitudes of us co- 
 operating, may be united and formed into one body; than 
 endued with, and able to make ufe of, the ftrength, ikill and 
 prudence of every individual, fhall govern itfelf, and act on 
 all emergencies, as if it was animated by one foul, and ac- 
 tuated by one wilL I am willing to allow, that among the 
 motives that prompt man to enter into fociety, there is a de- 
 fire which he has naturally after company ; but he has it for 
 C c 4 
 
39^ THE FOURTH DIALOG L'Z. 
 
 his own fake, in hopes of being the better for it : and he 
 ■would never wifh for either company or any tiling eiie, but 
 for fome advantage or other he propofes to himfelf from it. 
 What I deny is, that man naturally has flich a dehre, out of 
 a fondnefs of his fpecies, fuperior to what other animals have 
 for theirs. It is a compliment which we commonly pay to 
 ourfelves, but there is no more reality in it, than in our being 
 one another's humble fervants : and I infill upon it, that this 
 pretended love ot our fpecies. and natural affection we are 
 laid to have for one another, beyond other animals, is nei- 
 ther inilrumental to the erecting of focieties, nor ever truJ 
 to in our prudent commerce with one another when ailb- 
 ciated, any more than if it had no exigence. The undoubt- 
 ed bails of all focieties is government: this truth, well ex- 
 amined into, will furniih us with .11 the regions of man's ex- 
 cellency, as to fociableneis. It is evident from it, that crea- 
 tures, to oe railed into a community, mull, in the firft place, 
 be governable : This is a qualification that requires fear, and 
 fome degree of undentanaing ; for a creature not fufceptible 
 of rear, is never to be governed : and the more fenfe and 
 courage it has. the more rerradory and untraceable it will be, 
 without the influence of that ufeful palllon : and again, fear 
 without underftanding puts creatures only upon avoiding the 
 danger dreaded, without confidering what will become of 
 themfelves afterwards : fo wild birds will beat out their 
 brains againft the cage, before they will fave their lives by 
 eating. There is a great difference between being iubmilhve, 
 and being governable : for he who barely fubmits to ano- 
 ther, only embraces what he diilikes, to ihun what he/hilikes 
 more ; and we may be very fubmimve, and be of no ufe to 
 the perfon we fubmit to : but to be governable, implies an 
 endeavour to pleafe, and a willingnefs to exert ourfelves in 
 behalf of the perfon that governs: but love beginning every 
 where at home, no creature can labour for others, and be 
 eafy long, whilft felf is wholly out of the queilion : therefore 
 a creature is then truly governable, when reconciled to fub- 
 iniflion, it has learned to conilrue his fervitude to his own 
 advantage ; and reds iatisned with the account it finds for it- 
 the labour it performs for others. Several kind of 
 animals are, or may, with little trouble, be made thus go- 
 vernable ; but there is not one creature fo tame, that it can 
 be made to ferve its own fpecies, but man ; yet without this 
 .ould never have been made fociable. 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 393 
 
 HjV. But was not man by nature deiigned for fociety ? 
 
 Cko. We know from revelation that man was made for 
 fociety. 
 
 Hor. But if it had not been revealed, or you had been a 
 efe, or a Mexican, what would you anfwer me as a 
 
 phiiofopher? 
 
 Cko. That nature had defigned man for fociety, as ike 
 
 has made grapes for wine. 
 
 Hor. To make wine is an invention of man, as it is to prefs 
 
 oil from olives and other vegetables, ana to moke popes of 
 
 he pap. 
 
 Cko. And fo it is to form a fociety of independent multi- 
 tudes : and there is nothing that requires greater ikiil. 
 
 Her. But is not the fociablenefs of man the work of na- 
 ture, or rather of the author of nature, Divine Providence ? 
 
 Cko. Without doubt : But fo is the 
 culiar aptitude of every thing : that grapes are fit to n 
 wine, and barley and water to make other liquors, is J 
 work of Providence; but it is human ft j::„ • th : rinds o t 
 the ufes we make of them : all :. cities of man 
 
 likewife, as well as his . lefs, are evidently derived 
 
 from God, who made him : every thing therefore that our 
 induiTry can produce or compafs, is : owing to the 
 
 Author of our being. But when we fpeak of the works of 
 nature, to diilmguiih them from thefe of art, we mean fuch 
 as were brought forth without our concurrence. So nature, 
 in due feafon produces peafe ; but in England you cannot 
 have them green in y, without art and uncommon in- 
 
 duftry. What nature dehgns, ine executes herfelf : there 
 are creatures, of whom it is vifible, that nature has deiigned 
 them for fociety, as is moft obi i :ees, to whom ihe 
 
 has given in:uncts for that purpofe, as appears from the ef- 
 fects. We owe our being and every thing elfe to the great 
 Author of the univerfe : but as focieties cannot fubfift with- 
 out his preferving power, fo they cannot exift without the 
 concurrence of human wifdom ; all of them mud have a de- 
 pendance either on mutual compact, or the force of the 
 ftrong exerting itfelf upon the patience of the weak. The dif- 
 ference between the works of art, and thofe of nature, is fo 
 immenfe, that it is impouTole not to know them aiunder. 
 Knowing, a priori, belongs to God only, and Divine Wif- 
 dom aefs with an original certainty, of which, what we call 
 demonitration, is but an imperfect borrowed copy. Amongft 
 
-394 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 the works of nature, therefore, we fee no trials nor effays ; 
 they are all complete, and fuch as fhe would have them, at 
 , the firft production ; and, where fhe has not been interrupted, 
 highly fmifhed, beyond the reach of our underftanding, as 
 well as fenfes. Wretched man, on the contrary is fure of 
 nothing, his own exiftence not excepted, but from reafon- 
 ing, apqfteriori. The confequence of this is, that the works 
 of art and human invention are all very lame and defective, 
 and raoft of them pitifully mean at firft : our knowledge is 
 advanced by flow degrees, and fome arts and fciences. re- 
 quire the experience of many ages, before they can be 
 brought to any tolerable perfection. Have we any rea- 
 fon to imagine that the fociety of bees, that fent forth the 
 firft fwarm, made worfe wax or honey than any of their pos- 
 terity have produced fince ? And again the laws of nature are 
 fixed and unalterable : in all her orders and regulations there 
 is a ftibility, no where to be met with in things of human 
 contrivance and approbation ; 
 
 Quid placet aut odio eft, quod non mutabilc credas ? 
 
 Is it probable, that amongft the bees, there has ever been 
 any other form of government than what every fwarm fub- 
 mits to now ? What an infinite variety of fpeculations, what 
 ridiculous fc hemes have not been propoied amongft men, 
 on the fubject of government ; what diflentions in opini- 
 on, and what fatal quarrels has it not been the occafion of! 
 and which is the belt form of it, is a queftion to this day un- 
 decided. The projects, good and bad, that have been 
 ftated for the benefit, and more happy eftabliftiment of foci- 
 ety, are innumerable ; but how fhort lighted is our fagacity, 
 how fallible human judgment ! What has feemed highly ad- 
 vantageous to mankind in one age, has often been found to 
 be evidently detrimental by the fucceeding ; and even among 
 contemporaries, what is revered in one country, is the abo- 
 mination of another. What changes have ever bees made 
 in their furniture or architecture ? have they ever made cells 
 that were not fexangular, or added any tools to thofe which 
 nature furnifhed them with at the beginning? What mighty 
 llructures have been raifed, what prodigious works have been 
 ■performed by the great nations of the world ! Toward all 
 thefe nature has only found materials : the ciuarry yields 
 
 7 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 395 
 
 marble, but it is the fculptor that rmkes a ftatue of it. To 
 have the infinite variety of iron tools that have been invent 5 d, 
 nature has given us nothing but the oar, which Qie has hid 
 in the bowels of the earth. 
 
 Hor. But the capacity of the workmen, the inventors of 
 arts, and thofe that improved them, has had a great fhare 
 in bringing thofe labours to perfection ; and their genius 
 they had from nature. 
 
 Cleo. So far as it depended upon the make of their frame, 
 the accuracy of the machine they had, and no further; but 
 this I have allowed already ; and if you remember what I 
 have faid on this head, you will find, that the part which 
 nature contributed toward the ikill and patience of every 
 tingle perfon, that had a hand in thofe works, was very in- 
 confiderable. 
 
 Hor. If I have not mifunderftood you, you would infinu- 
 ate two things : Firft, that the fitnefs of man for fociety, be- 
 yond other animals, is fomething real ; but that it is hardly 
 perceptible in individuals, before great numbers of them are 
 joined together, and artfully managed. Secondly, that this 
 real fomething, this fociableneis, is a compound that coniifts 
 in a concurrence of feveral things, and not in any one pal- 
 pable quality, that man is endued with, and brutes are defti- 
 tute of. 
 
 Cleo. You are perfectly right : every grape contains a fmall 
 quantity of juice, and when great heaps of them are fqueezed . 
 together, they yield a liquor, which by fkilful management 
 may be made into wine : but if we conhder how neceiTary 
 fermentation is to the vinoiity of the liquor, I mean, how 
 eflential is it to its being wine, it will be evident to us, that 
 without great impropriety of fpeech, it cannot be faid, that 
 in every grape there is wine. 
 
 Hor. Vinoiity, fo far as it is the effect of fermentation, is 
 adventitious ; and what none of the grapes could ever have 
 received whilft they remained hngie ; and, therefore, if you 
 would compare the fociablenefs of man to the vinoiity of 
 wine, you muft fliow me, that in fociety there is an equiva- 
 lent for fermentation ; I mean fomething that individual per- 
 fons are not actually poifefTed of, whillt they remain lingle, 
 and which likewife is palpably adventitious to multitudes 
 when joined together ; in the fame manner as fermentation 
 is to the juice of grapes, and as neceflary and eflential to the 
 
396 THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 completing of fociety as that is, that fame fermentation, 
 to procure the vinofify of wine. 
 
 Cleo. Such an equivalent is demonftrable in mutual com* 
 roerce : for if we examine every faculty and qualification, from 
 and for which we judge and pronounce man to be a fociable 
 creature beyond other animals, w r e mail find, that a very con- 
 liderable, if not the greater! part of the attribute is acquired, 
 and comes upon multitudes, from their converfing with one 
 another. Fabric andofabrifimus* Men become fociable, by 
 living together in fociety. Natural affection prompts all mo- 
 thers to take care of the offspring they dare own ; fo far as 
 to feed and keep them from harm, whilfl they are helplefs : 
 but where people are poor, and the women have no leifure 
 to indulge themfelves in the various expreffions of their foncf- 
 nefs for their infants, which fondling of them ever increafes, 
 they are often very remifs in tending and playing with them; 
 and the more healthy and quiet fuch children are, the more 
 they are neglected. This want of prattling to, and ftirring 
 up the fpirits in babes, is often the principal caufe of an in- 
 vincible ftupidity, as well as ignorance, when they are grown 
 up ; and we often afcribe to natural incapacity, what is alto- 
 gether owing to the neglect of this early inftruction. We 
 have fo few examples of human creatures, that never con- 
 verfed with their own fpecies, that it is hard to guefs, what 
 man would be, entirely untaught ; but we have good reafon 
 to believe, that the faculty of thinking would be very im- 
 perfect in fuch a one, if we cormder, that the greater!: doci- 
 lity can be of no ufe to a creature, whilfl it has nothing to 
 imitate, nor any body to teach it. 
 
 Hor. Philofophers therefore are very wifely employed, 
 when they difcourfe about the laws of nature; and pretend 
 to determine what a man in the flate of nature would think, 
 and which way he would reafon concerning himfelf and the 
 creation, unmitrucled. 
 
 Cleo. Thinking, and reafoning juflly, as Mr. Locke has 
 rightly obferved, require time and practice. Thofe that have 
 not uied themfelves to thinking, but jufl on their prefent ne- 
 cefhties, make poor work of it, when they try beyond that. 
 In remote parts, and fuch as are leait inhabited, we mail find 
 our fpecies come nearer the flate of nature,. than it does in 
 and near great cities and confiderable towns, even in the molt 
 civilized nations. Among the mofl ignorant of fuch people, 
 you may learn the truth of my affertion ; talk to them about 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 397 
 
 any thing, that requires abrlract thinking, and there is not 
 one in fifty that will under Hand you, any more than a horfe 
 would ; and yet many of them are ufeful labourers, and cun- 
 ning enough to tell lies and deceive. Man is a rational 
 creature, but he is not endued with reafon when he comes 
 into the world; nor can he afterwards put it on when he 
 pleafes, at once, as he may a garment. Speech likewife is a 
 characteriitic of our fpecies, but no man is born with it ; and 
 a dozen generations proceeding from two favages would not 
 produce any tolerable language ; nor have we reafon to be- 
 lieve, that a man could be taught to fpeak after five-and- 
 twenty, if he had never heard others before that time. 
 
 Hor. The neceffity of teaching, whilft the organs are fup- 
 ple, and eafily yield to impreHion, which you have fpoke 
 of before, I believe is of great weight, both in fpeaking and 
 thinking ; but could a dog, or a monkey, ever be taught to 
 fpeak ? 
 
 Cko. I believe not ; but I do not think, that creatures of 
 another fpecies had ever the pains beflowed upon them, that 
 ibme children have, before they can pronounce one word. 
 Another thing to be conudered is, that though fome animals 
 perhaps live longer than we do, there is no fpecies that re- 
 mains young lb long as ours; and befides what we owe to 
 the fuperior aptitude to learn, which we have from the great 
 accuracy of our frame and inward itructure, we are not a lit- 
 tle indebted for our docility, to the flownefs and long grada- 
 tion of our increafe, before we are full grown : the organs in 
 other creatures grow ftiff, before ours are come to half their 
 perfection. 
 
 Hor. So that in the compliment we make to our fpecies, 
 of its being endued with fpeech and fociablenefs, there is no 
 other reality, than that by care and induftry men may be 
 taught to fpeak, and be made fociable, if the difcipline be- 
 gins when they are very young. 
 
 Cko. Not otherwife. A thoufand of our fpecies all grown 
 up, that is above five-and-twenty, could never be made fo- 
 ciable, if they had been brought up wild, and w r ere all 
 lirangers to one another. 
 
 Hor. I believe they could not be civilized, if their educa- 
 tion began fo late. 
 
 Geo. But I mean barely fociable, as it is the epithet pecu- 
 liar to man ; that is, it would be impoilible by art to govern 
 them, any more than fo many wild holies, unieis you had two 
 
§9? ^he Fourth dialogue, 
 
 or three times that number to watch and keep them in awe. 
 Therefore it is highly probable, that moft focieties, and be- 
 ginnings of nations, were formed in the manner Sir William 
 Temple fuppofes it ; but nothing near fo faft : and I wonder 
 how a man of his unquefxionable good fenfe, could form an 
 idea of juftice, prudence, and wiidom, in an untaught crea- 
 ture ; or think of a civilized man, before there was any civil 
 fociety, and even before men had commenced to aftbciate. 
 
 Hor. I have read it, I am fare, but I do not remember 
 what it is you mean. 
 
 Cleo. He is juft behind you ; the third ftielf from the bot- 
 tom ; the firit volume : pray reach it me, it is worth your 
 
 hearing. It is in his Eilay on Government. Here it is. 
 
 " For if we confider man multiplying his kind by the birth 
 " of many children, and his cares by providing even neceffa- 
 " ry food for them, until they are able to do it for themfelves 
 " (which happens much later to the generations of men, and 
 " makes a much longer dependence of children upon pa- 
 " rents, than we can obferve among any other creatures) ; if 
 " we confider not only the cares, but the induftry he is 
 " forced to, for the neceflary fuftenance of his helplefs brood, 
 " either in gathering the natural fruits, or railing thofe 
 " which are purchafed with labour and toil : if he be forced 
 " for fupply of this ftock, to catch the tamer creatures, and 
 " hunt the wilder, fometimes to exercife his courage in de- 
 " fending his little family, and fighting with the firong and 
 " favage beafts (that would prey upon him, as he does upon 
 " the weak and mild) : if we fuppoie him difpofing with dif- 
 " cretion and order, whatever he gets among his children, 
 " according to each of their hunger or need ; fometimes lay- 
 " ing up for to-morrow, what was more than enough for to- 
 " day ; at other times pinching himfelf, rather than fullering 
 " any of them ihouldwant. 
 
 Hor. This man is no favage, or untaught creature ; he is 
 fit to be a juftice of peace. 
 
 Cleo. Pray let me go on, I fhail only read this paragraph : 
 " And as each of them grows up, and able to fhare in the 
 " common fupport, teaching them, both by lefibn and ex- 
 " ample, what he is now to do, as the fon of his family, and 
 " what hereafter, as the father of another ; inftrucling them 
 " all, what qualities are good, and what are ill, for their 
 " health and life, or common fociety (which will certainly 
 " comprehend whatever is generally efteemed virtue or vice 
 
THE FOURTH DIALOGUE. 399 
 
 " among men), cherifhing and encouraging difpofitions to 
 " the good, disfavouring and punifhing thofe to the ill : And 
 " laftly, among the various accidents of life, lifting up his 
 " eyes to Heaven, when the earth affords him no relief; and 
 " having recourfe to a higher and a greater nature whenever 
 " he finds the frailty of his own : we muft needs conclude, 
 " that the children of this man cannot fail of being bred up 
 " with a great opinion of his wifdom, his goodnefs his va- 
 " lour, and his piety. And if they fee conftant plenty in 
 " the family, they believe well of his fortune too." 
 
 Hor. Did this man fpring out of the earth, I wonder, or 
 did he drop from the Iky ? 
 
 Cko. There is no manner of abfurdity in fuppofing — , — . 
 
 Hor. The difcuffion of this would too far engage us : I 
 am fure, I have tired you already with my impertinence. 
 
 Cko. You have pleafed me extremely : the queflions you 
 have afked have all been very pertinent, and fuch as every 
 man of fenfe would make, that had not made it his bufinefs 
 to think on thefe things. I read that pafTage on purpofe to 
 you, to make fome ufe of it; but if you are weary of the fub- 
 jecl, I will not trefpafs upon your patience any longer. 
 
 Hor. You miftake me ; I begin to be fend of the fubjeel : 
 but before we talk of it any further, I have a mind to run 
 over that Eflay again ; it is a great while fince I read it : and 
 after that I Ihail be glad to refume the difcourfe; the fooner 
 the better. 1 know you are a lover of fine fruit, if you will 
 dine with me to-morrow, 1 will give you an ananas. 
 
 Cleo. I love your company fo well, that I can refufe no op- 
 portunity of enjoying it. 
 
 Hor. A revoir then. 
 
 Cko. Your fervant, 
 
400 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 THE FIFTH 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 HORATIO AND CLEOMENES. 
 
 CLEOMENES. 
 
 It excels every thing; it is extremely rich without being 
 lufcious, and I know nothing to which I can compare the 
 tafte of it : to me it feems to be a collection of different fine 
 flavours, that puts me in mind of feveral delicious fruits, 
 W T hich yet are all outdone by it. 
 
 Hor. I am glad it pleafed you. 
 
 Geo. The fcent of it likewife is wonderfully reviving. As 
 you was paring it, a fragrancy, I thought, perfumed the room 
 that was perfectly cordial. 
 
 Hor. The infide of the rhind has an oilinefs of no dif- 
 agreeable fmell, that upon handling of it fticks to ones 
 fingers for a confiderable time; for though now I have waih- 
 ed and wiped my hands, the flavour of it will not be entirely 
 gone from them by to-morrow morning. 
 
 Cko. This w r as the third I ever tailed of our own growth ; 
 the production of them in thefe northern climates, is no fmall 
 inftance of human induftry, and our improvements in garden- 
 ing. It is very elegant to enjoy the uholefome air of tem- 
 perate regions, and at the fame time be able to raife fruit to 
 its higher!: maturity, that naturally requires the fun of the 
 Torrid Zone. 
 
 Hor. It is eafy enough to procure heat, but the great art 
 confifts in finding out, and regulating the de ■,;■ ees of it at plea- 
 fure; without which it would be impollible to ripen an ananas 
 here, and to compafs this with that exactness, as it is done 
 by the help of thermometers, was certainly a fine invention e 
 
 Cko. I do not care to drink any more. 
 
TH£ FIFTH DIALOGUE. 401 
 
 Hor, J lift as you pleafe ; otherwife I was going to name a 
 health, which would not have come mal a propos, 
 
 C/eo. Whofe is that, pray ? 
 
 Hor. I was thinking on the man to whom we are in a 
 great meafure obliged for the production and culture of the 
 exoric, we werefpeaking of, in this kingdom; Sir Matthew 
 Decker, the firft ananas or pine- apple, that was brought to 
 perfection in England, grew in his garden at Richmond. 
 
 Cko. With all my heart ; let us finifh with that ; he is a 
 beneficent, and, I believe, a very honeft man. 
 
 Hor, it would not be eafy to name another, who, with the 
 fame knowledge of the world, and capacity of getting mo- 
 ney, is equally diiinterefted and inoffenfive. 
 
 Cieo, Have you coniidered the things we difcourfed of 
 ye tier day ? 
 
 Hor. I have thought on nothing elfe lince I faw you : This 
 morning I went through the whole Effay, and with more 
 attention than I d.d formerly : 1 like it very well ;- only that* 
 paffage which you read yeiterday, and fome others to the 
 fame purpofe, I cannot reconcile with the account we have 
 of man's origin from the Bible: Since all are defcendants from 
 Adam, and confequently of Noah and his posterity, how 
 came favages into the world ? 
 
 Geo, The hiftory of the world, as to very ancient times, 
 is very imperfect : What devastations have been made by 
 war, by peililence, and by famine ; what chftrefs fome men 
 have been drove to, and how ftrangely our race has been 
 difperfed and fcattered over the earth lince the flood, we do 
 not know. 
 
 Hor, But perfons that are well inftructed themfelves, ne- 
 ver fail of teaching their children ; and we have no reafon 
 to thmk, that knowing, civilized men, as the fons of Noah 
 were, mould have neglected their offspring ; but it is alto- 
 gether incredible, as all are defcendants from them, that 
 fucceeding generations, inltead of increafing in experi- 
 ence and wifdom, mould learn backward, and ftill more 
 and more abandon their broods in fuch a manner, as to dege- 
 nerate at lalt to what you call the ftate of nature. 
 
 Cko. Whether you intend this as a farcafm or not, I do 
 not know; but you have raifed no difficulty that can ren- 
 der the truth of the facred hiftory fufpected. Holy writ has 
 acquainted us with the miraculous origin of our fpecies, and 
 the imall remainder of it after the deluge : But it is far from: 
 
 Dd 
 
402 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 informing us of all the revolutions that have happened 
 among mankind fince : The Old Teftament hardly touches 
 upon any particulars that had no relation to the Jews; nei- 
 ther does Mofes pretend to give a full account of every thing 
 that happened to, or was tranfacted by our firft parents : He 
 names none of Adam's daughters, and takes no notice of 
 feveral things that mult have happened in the beginning of 
 the world, as is evident from Cain's building a city, and fe- 
 ver al other cireumilances ; from which it is plain, that Mo- 
 fes meddled with nothing but what was material, and to his 
 purpose ; which, in that part of his hiitory, was to trace the 
 defcent of the Patriarchs, from the firft man. But. that 
 there are lavages is certain : More, nations of Europe have 
 met with wild men and women in feveral parts of the world, 
 that were ignorant of the ufe of letters, and among whom 
 they could obfeive no ride or government. 
 
 Hor. That there are favages, I do not queftion ; and from 
 the great number of Haves that are yearly fetched from Afri- 
 ca, it is manifeft, that in fome parts there muft be vaft 
 f warms of people, that have not yet made a great hand of 
 their fociabienefs : But how to derive them from all the fons 
 of Noah, I own, is paft my ikill. 
 
 Geo.- You find it as difficult to account for the lofs of the 
 many fine arts, and ufeful inventions of the ancients, which 
 the world has certainly fuftamed. But the fault I find with 
 Sir William Temple, is m the character of his favage. Juft 
 reafoning, and fuch an orderly way of proceeding, as he 
 makes him act in, are unnatural to a wild man : In fuch a 
 one, the pafiions muft be boifterous, and continually jolt- 
 ling, and fucceeding one another ; no untaught man could 
 have a regular way of thinking, or purfue any one defign 
 with fteadmefs. 
 
 Hor. You have ftrange notions of our fpecies : But has 
 net a man, by the time that he comes to maturity, fome no- 
 tions of right and wrong, that are natural ? 
 
 Geo. Before I aniwer your queftion, I would have you 
 coniider, that, among favages, there mull be always a great 
 difference as to the wildnefs or tamenefs of t,hem. . All crea- 
 tures naturally love their offspring whilft they are helplefs, 
 and fo does man : But in the lavage ilate, men are more liable 
 to accidents and misfortunes than they are in fociety, as to 
 the rearing of the.r young ones ; and, therefore, the children 
 of favages muft very often be put to their fliifts, fo as hardly 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 4O3 
 
 to remember, by the time that they are grown up, that they 
 had any parents. If this happens too early, and they are 
 dropt or loft before they are four or five years of age, they 
 mult perifh ; either die for want, or be devoured by beads 
 of prey, unlefs fome other creature takes care of them. 
 Thofe orphans that furvive, and become their own mailers 
 very young, mud, when they are come to maturity, be much 
 wilder than others, that have lived many years under the 
 tuition of parents. 
 
 Hor. But would not the wilder! man you can imagine, 
 have from nature fome thoughts of juftice and injuftice ? 
 
 Geo. Such a one, I believe, would naturally, without much 
 thinking in the cafe, take every thing to be his own that he 
 could lay his hands on. 
 
 Hor. Then they would foon be undeceived, if two or 
 three of them met together. 
 
 Geo. That they would foon difagree and quarrel, is highly 
 probable \ but I do not believe they ever would be unde- 
 ceived. 
 
 Hor. At this rate, men could never be formed into an 
 aggregate body : How came fociety into the world ? 
 
 Geo. As I told you, from private families ; but not with- 
 out great difficulty, and the concurrence of many favourable 
 accidents ; and many generations may pafs before there is 
 any likelihood of their being formed into a fociety. 
 
 Hor. That men are formed into focieties, we fee : But if 
 they are all born with that falfe notion, and they can never 
 be undeceived, which way do you account for it ? 
 
 Geo. My opinion concerning this matter, is this : Self- 
 prefervation bids all creatures gratify their appetites, and 
 that of propagating his kind never fails to affect a man in 
 health, many years before he comes to his full growth. If 
 a wild man and a wild woman mould meet vtry young, and 
 live together for fifty years undiiturbed, in a mild wholefome 
 climate, where there is plenty of provifions, they might fee a 
 prodigious number of defcendants : For, in the wild ftate of 
 nature, man multiplies his kind much falter, than can be al- 
 lowed of in any regular fociety : No male at fourteen would 
 be long without a female, if he could get one ; and no fe- 
 male of twelve would be refractory, if applied to, or remain 
 long uncourted, if there were men. 
 
 Hor. Confidering that confanguinity would be no bar among 
 thefe people, the progeny of two favages might foon amount 
 
 Dd2 
 
404 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE- 
 
 to hundreds: All this I can grant you; but as- parents, no bet- 
 ter qualified, could teach their children but little, it would be 
 impoffible for them to govern thefe fons and daughters when 
 they grew up, if none of them had any notions of right or 
 wrong ; and fociety is as far off as ever; the falfe principle, 
 which you fay all men are born with, is an obftacle never 
 to be furmo anted. 
 
 Clieo. From that falfe principle, as you call it, the right 
 men naturally claim to every thing they can get, it muft fol- 
 low, that man will look upon his children as his property, and 
 make iuch life of them as is moil confident with his intereit, 
 
 Hor. What is the intereft of a wild man that purfues no- 
 thing with fteadinefs. 
 
 Cleo. The demand of the predominant paiTion for the time 
 it lafts. 
 
 Hur. That may change every moment, and fuch children 
 would be miferably managed. 
 
 Cleo. That is true ; but ft ill managed they would be ; I 
 mean they would be kept under, and forced to do as they 
 they were bid, at leaft till they were ftrong enough to relift. 
 Natural affection would prompt a wild man to love and che- 
 riin his child ; it would make him provide food, and other 
 neceflaries for his fon, till he was ten or twelve years old % 
 or perhaps longer : But this affection is not the only paiTion 
 he has to gratify ; if his fon provokes him by ftubbornnefs, 
 or doing otherwife than he would have him, this love is fuf- 
 pended ; and if his difpleafure be ftrong enough to raife his 
 anger, which is as natural to him as any other paiTion, it is 
 ten to one but he will knock him down : If he hurts him 
 very much, and the condition he has put his fon in, moves 
 his pity, his anger will ceafe ; and, natural affection return- 
 ing, he will fondle him again, and be forry for what he has 
 done. Now, if w 7 e conlider that all creatures hate and en- 
 deavour to avoid pain, and that benefits beget love in all 
 that receive them, we fhall find, that the confequence of this 
 management would be, that the favage child would learn to 
 love and tear his father : Thefe two pafiions, together with 
 the efteem which we naturally have for every thing that far 
 excels us, will leldom fail of producing that compound which 
 we call reverence. 
 
 Hor. 1 have it now ; you have opened my eyes, and I fee 
 the origin of fociety, as plain as I do that table. 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 405' 
 
 Cleo. I am afraid the profped is not fo clear yet as you 
 imagine. 
 
 Hor. Why fo ? The grand obftacles are removed : Un- 
 taught men, it is true, when they are grown up, are never to 
 be governed ; and our fubjedlion is never fincere where the 
 fuperiority of the governor is not very apparent : B it both 
 thefe are obviated ; the reverence we have for a perfon when 
 we are young, is eaiily continued as long as we live ; and 
 where authority is once acknowledged, and that acknow- 
 ledgment well eftabliihed, it cannot be a difficult matter to go- 
 vern. If thus a man may keep up his authority over his child- 
 ern, he will do it ftill with greater eafe over his grand-child- 
 ern : For a child that has the leaft reverence for his parents, 
 will feldom refufe homage to the perfon to whom he fees his 
 father pay it. Befides, a man's pride would be a fufficient 
 motive for him to maintain the authority once gained ; and, 
 if fome of his progeny proved refradory, he would leave no 
 ilone unturned, by the help of the reit to reduce the difo- 
 bedient. The old man being dead, the authority from him 
 would devolve upon the eldeit of his children, and fo on. 
 
 Cleo. I thought you would go on too fail. If the wild 
 man had underftood the nature of things, and been endued 
 with general knowledge, and a language ready made, as 
 Adam was by miracle, what you fay might have been eafy ; 
 but an ignorant creature that knows nothing but what his 
 own experience has taught him, is no more fit to govern, 
 than he is fit to teach the mathematics. 
 
 Hor. He would not have above one or two children to go- 
 vern at firft ; and his experience would increafe by degrees, 
 as well as his family. This would require no fuch confum- 
 niate knowledge. 
 
 Cleo. I do not fay it would : An ordinary capacity of a 
 man tolerably well educated, would be fufficient to begin 
 with ; but a man who never had been taught to curb any of 
 his paffions, would be very unfit for fuch a talk. He would 
 make his children, as foon as they were able, affifl him in 
 getting food, and teach them how and where to procure it. 
 Savage children, as they got flrength, would endeavour to 
 imitate every action they faw their parents do, and every 
 found they heard them make ; but all the inrlruclions they 
 received, would be confined to things immediately neceffary. 
 Savage parents would often take orience at their children, as 
 thev grew up, without a cauie • and as theie mcreafed in 
 Dd 3 
 
40(> THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 years, fo natural affection would decreafe in the other. The 
 confequence would be, that the children would often fuffer 
 for failings that were not their own. Savages would often 
 difcover faults in the conduct, of what was pail ; but they 
 would not be able to eftablifh rules for future behaviour, 
 which they would approve of themfelves for any continu- 
 ance ; and want of foreiight would be an inexhauftible fund 
 for changes in their refolutions. The favage's wife, as well 
 as himfelf, would be highly pleafed to fee their daughters 
 impregnated and bring forth; and they would both take 
 great delight in their grand- children. 
 
 Hor. I thought, that in all creatures the natural affection 
 of parents had been confined to their own young ones. 
 
 Cleo. It is fo in all but man ; there is no fpecies but ours, 
 that are fo conceited of themfelves, as to imagine every thing 
 to be theirs. The defire of dominion is a never-failing con- 
 fequence of the pride that is common to all men : and which 
 the brat of a favage is as much born with as the fon of an 
 emperor. This good opinion we have of ourfelves, makes 
 men not only claim a right to their children, but likewife 
 imagine, that they have a great fhare of jurifdiction over 
 their grandchildren. The young ones of other animals, as 
 foon as they can help themfelves, are free ; but the authority 
 which parents pretend to have over their children, never 
 ceafes : Plow general and unreafonable this eternal claim is 
 naturally in the heart of man, we may learn from the laws; 
 which, to .prevent the usurpation of parents, and refcue child- , 
 ern from their dominion, every civil fociety is forced to 
 make; limiting paternal authority to a certain term of years. 
 Our favage pair would have a double title to their grand- 
 children, from their undoubted property in each parent of 
 them ; and all the progeny being fprung from their own fons 
 and daughters, without intermixture of foreign blood, they 
 would look upon the whole race to be their natural vaflals ; 
 and I am perfuaded, that the more knowledge and capacity 
 of reafoning this firit couple acquired, the more juft and un- 
 queitionable their fovereignty over all their defcendants 
 would appear to them, though they mould li\ e to lee the 
 fifth or iixth generation. 
 
 Hor. Is it not orange that nature mould fend us all into 
 the world with a viiibie defire after ^overnmenc, and no ca- 
 pacity for it at all ? 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 407 
 
 Cleo. What feems ftrange to you, is an undeniable inftance 
 of Divine Wifdoin. For, if all had not been born with this 
 defire, all rauil have been deftitute of it; and multitudes 
 could never have been formed into focieties, if fome of them 
 had not been pofTefTed of this thirft of dominion. Creatures 
 may commit force upon themfelves, they may learn to warp 
 their natural appetites, and divert them from their proper 
 objects : but peculiar infiincls, that belong to a whole fpe- 
 cies, are never to be acquired by art or discipline; and thofe 
 that are born without them, muft remain deftitute of them 
 for ever. D ucks run to the water as foon as they are hatch- 
 ed ; but you can never make a chicken fwim any more than 
 you can teach it to fuck. 
 
 Hor. I underltand you very well. If pride had not been 
 innate to all men, none of them could ever have been ambi- 
 tious : And as to the capacity of governing, experience mows 
 us, that it is to be acquired ; but how to bring fociety into 
 the world, I know no more than the wild man himfelf. What 
 you have fuggefted to nle of his unlkilfulnefs, and want of 
 power to govern himfelf, has quite defticyed all the hopes I 
 had conceived of fociety from this family. But would reli- 
 gion have no influence upon them ? Pray, how came that 
 into the world ? 
 
 Cleo. From God, by miracle. 
 
 Hor. Obfcurum per obfcurius. I do not underfiand mira- 
 cles, that break in upon, and fubvert the order of nature ; 
 and I have no notion of things that come to pafs, en depit 
 de bonfens, and are fiich ; that judging from found reafon 
 and known experience, all wife men would think themfelves 
 mathematically lure that they could never happen. 
 
 Cleo. It is certain, that by the word miracle, is meant an 
 interpofition of the Divine Power, when it deviates from the 
 common courfe of nature. 
 
 Hor. As when matters, eaiTly combufiible, remain whole 
 and untouched in the midft of a fire fiercely burning, or hons 
 in vigour, indaftriouily kept hungry, forbear eating what they 
 are moil greedy after. Thefe miracles are ftrange things. 
 
 Cleo. They are not pretended to be otherwiie ; the ety- 
 mology of the word imports it ; but it is almoit as unac- 
 countable, that men mould difbelieve them, and pretend to be 
 of a religion that is altogether built upon miracles 
 
 Hor. But when I aiked you that general queition, why did 
 you confine yourfelf to revealed religion ? 
 
 D d 4 
 
40 8 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Ceo. Becaufe nothing, in my opinion, deferves the name of 
 religion, that has not been revealed : The Jewifh was the 
 firil ihat was national, and the Chriftian the next. 
 
 Hjr. Bat Abraham, Noah, and Adam himfelf, were no 
 Jews, and yet they had religion. 
 
 Cleo. No other than what was revealed to them, God ap- 
 peared to our rhfct parents, and gave them commands imme- 
 diately after he had created them : The fame intercourfe was 
 continued between the Supreme Bemg and the Patriarchs; 
 but the father of Abraham was an idolater. 
 
 Hjr. But the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Romans had 
 religion, as well as the Jews. 
 
 Cleo. Their grofs idolatry, and abominable worfhip, I call 
 fuperitition. 
 
 Hor. You may be as partial as you pleafe, but they all 
 called their worfhip religion, as well as w r e do ours. You 
 fay, man brings nothing with him, but his paffions; and when 
 I aiked you, how religion came into the world, I meant what 
 is there in man's nature that is not acquired, from which he 
 has a tendency to religion; what is it that difpofes him to it? 
 
 Cleo. Fear. 
 
 Hor. How! Primus in or be Deos fecit timor; Are you of that 
 Opinion. 
 
 Cleo. No man upon earth lefs : But that noted Epicurean 
 axiom, which irreligious men are fo fond of, is a very poor 
 one ; and it is filly, as well as impious to fay, that fear made 
 a God ; you may as juftly fay, that fear made grafs, or the 
 fun and the moon : but when I am fpeaking of favages, it 
 is not claming either with good fenfe, nor the Chriftian 
 religion, to aiTert, that, whilft fuch men are ignorant of the 
 true Deity, and yet very defective in the art of thinking 
 and reafoning, fear is the paiiion that firft gives them an 
 opportunity of entertaining fome glimmering notions of an 
 inviiible Power; which afterwards, as by practice and experi- 
 ence they grow greater proficients, and become more perfect 
 in the labour or the brain, and the exercife of their higheft 
 faculty, will infallibly lead them to the certain knowledge 
 of an Infinite and Eternal Being ; whofe power and wii- 
 dom will always appear the greater, and more ftupendous to 
 them, the^more they themfelves advance in knowledge and 
 penetration, though both mould be carried on to a much 
 higher pkch, than it is poifible for our limited nature ever to 
 arrive at, 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 409 
 
 tibr. I beg your pardon for fufpecting you ; though I am 
 glad it gave you an opportunity of explaining yourfelf. The 
 word jfosr, without any addition, founded very harm ; and 
 even now I cannot conceive how an inviiible caufe ihould 
 become the object of a man's fear, that ihould be fo entirely 
 untaught, as you have made the firft lavage : which way can 
 any thing inviiible, and that affects none of the fenfes, make 
 an impreilion upon a wild creature ? 
 
 Cleo. hvery mifchief and every difafter that happens to 
 him, of which the caufe is not very plain and obvious ; ex- 
 ceffive heat and cold ; wet and drought, that are orTenfive ; 
 thunder and lightning, even when they do no vilible hurt; 
 noifes in the dark, obfcunty itfelf, and every thing that is 
 frightful and unknown, are all administering and contributing 
 to the eiiabhfiiment of this fear. The wilder! man that can 
 be conceived, by the time that he came to maturity, would 
 be wife enough to know, that fruits and other eatables are 
 not to be had, either always, or every where : this would na- 
 turally put him upon hoarding, when he had good (tore : his 
 proviiion might be fpoiled by the rain : he would fee that trees 
 were blafted, and yielded hoi always the fame plenty : he 
 might not always be in health, or his young ones might grow 
 fick, and die, without any wounds or external force to be 
 feen. Some of thefe accidents might at firit efcape his atten- 
 tion, or only alarm his weak underilanding, without occa- 
 fioning much reflection for fome time ; but as they come 
 often, he would certainly begin to fufpect fome inviiible 
 caufe ; and, as his experience increafed, be confirmed in his 
 fufpicion. It is likewife highly probable, that a variety of 
 different fufferings, would make him apprehend feveral fuch 
 caufes ; and at laft induce him to believe, that there was a 
 great number of them, which he had to fear. What would 
 very much contribute to this credulous difpofition, and natu- 
 rally lead him into fuch a belief, is a falie notion we imbibe 
 very early, and which we may obferve in infants, as foon as 
 by their looks, their gueftures, and the ilgns they make, they 
 begin to be intelligible to us. 
 
 Hor. What is that, pray ? 
 
 Cleo. All young children feem to imagine, that every thing 
 thinks and feels in the fame manner as they do themlelves ; 
 and, that they generally have this wrong opinion of things 
 inanimate, is evident, from a common practice amoigth.m ; 
 Whenever they labour under any misfortune, whxh their 
 
410 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 own wildnefs, and want of care have drawn upon them. In 
 all fuch cafes, you fee them angry at and itrike, a table, a 
 chair, the floor, or any thing elfe, that can feem to have been 
 accefTary to their hurting themfelves, or the production of 
 any other blunder, they have committed. Nurfes we fee, in 
 compliance to their frailty, feem to entertain the fame ridi- 
 culous fentiments ; and actually appeafe wrathful brats, by 
 pretending to take their part : Thus you will often fee them 
 very ferious, in fcolding at and beating, either the real object 
 of the baby's indignation, or fomethmg elfe, on which the 
 blame of what has happened, may be thrown, with any mow 
 of probability. It is not to be imagined, that this natural 
 folly fhould be fo eaiily cured in a child, that is deflitute of 
 all mftruction and commerce with rrs own fpecies, as it is in 
 thofe that are brought up in fociety, and hourly improved 
 by converting with others that are wife* than themfelves ; 
 and 1 am perfuaded, that a wild man would never get entire- 
 ly rid of it wfailft he lived. 
 
 Hor. I cannot think fo meanly of human underftanding. 
 
 Cleo. Whence came the Bryades and Hama-Dryades ? 
 How came it ever to be thought impious to cut down, or even 
 to wound large venerable oaks or other ftately trees ; and 
 what root did the Divinity fpring from, which the vulgar, 
 among the ancient heathens, apprehended to be in rivers 
 and fountains ? 
 
 Hor. From the roguery of defigning priefts, and other im- 
 porters, that invented thofe lies, and made fables for their 
 own advantage. 
 
 Cleo. But Itill it muft have been want of underftanding ; j 
 and a tincture, fome remainder of that folly which is dis- 
 covered in young children, that could induce, or would 
 f lifter men to believe thofe fables. Unlefs fools actually had I 
 frailties, knaves could not make ufe of them. 
 
 Hor. There may be fomething in it; but, be that as it 
 will, you have owned, that man naturally loves thofe he re- 
 ceives benefits from ; therefore, how comes it, that man, 
 finding all the good things he enjoys to proceed from an in- 
 viiible caufe, his gratitude fhould not fooner prompt him to 
 be religious, than his fear ? 
 
 Cleo. There are feveral fubftantial reafons, why it does not. 
 Man takes every thing to be his own, which he has from na- 
 ture : lowing and reaping, he thinks, deferve a crop, and 
 whatever he has the leafl; hand in, is always reckoned to be j 
 
 6 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 41I 
 
 his. Every art, and every invention, as foon as we know 
 them, are our right and property ; and whatever we perform 
 by the affiftance of them, is, by the courtefy of the fpecies to 
 itfelf, deemed to be our own. We make ufe of fermenta- 
 tion, and all the chemiftry of nature, without thinking our- 
 felves beholden to any thing but our own knowledge. She 
 that churns the cream, makes the butter ; without inquiring 
 into the power by which the thin lymphatic particles are 
 forced to feparate themielves, and Hide away from the more 
 undtuous. In brewing, baking, cooking, and almoft every 
 thing we have a hand in, nature is the drudge that makes 
 all the alterations, and does the principal work ; yet all, 
 forfooth, is our own. From all which, it is manifeft, that 
 man, who is naturally for making every thing centre in him- 
 felf, muff, in his wild ftate, have a great tendency, and be 
 very prone to look upon every thing he enjoys as his due ; 
 and every thing he meddles with, as his own performance. 
 It requires knowledge and reflection; and a man muft be 
 pretty far advanced in the art of thinking juitly, and reafon- 
 ing confequentially, before he can, from his own light, and 
 without being taught, be fenfible of his obligations to God. 
 The lefs a man knows, and the more mallow his underftand- 
 ing is, the lefs he is capable either of enlarging his profpecl of 
 things, or drawing confequences from the little which he 
 does know. Raw, ignorant, and untaught men, fix their 
 eyes on what is immediately before, and feldom look further 
 than, as it is vulgarly expreffed, the length of their nofes. 
 The wild man, if gratitude moved him, would much fooner 
 pay his refpects to the tree he gathers his nuts from, than he 
 would think of an acknowledgement to him who had plant- 
 ed it ; and there is no property fo well eilablifned, but a ci- 
 vilized man would fufpedl his title to it fooner, than a wild 
 one would queftion the fovereignty he has over his own 
 breath. Another reafon, why fear is an elder motive to reli- 
 gion than gratitude, is, that an untaught man would never 
 fufpecl; that the fame c a ufe, which he received good from, 
 wo aid ever do him hurt ; and evil, without doubt, would al- 
 ways gain his attention firft. 
 
 Hor. Men, indeed, feerh to remember one ill turn, that is 
 ferved them, better than ten good ones ; one month's fick- 
 nefs better than ten years health. 
 
 Cleo, In all the labours of felf-prefervation, man is intent 
 pn avoiding what is hurtful to him; but in the enjoyment of 
 
412 THE FIFTH DIAlCGtTE. 
 
 what Is pleafant, his thoughts are relaxed, and he is void of 
 care : he can (Wallow a thoufand delights, one after another, 
 without alking queftions ; but the lead evil makes him in- 
 quifitive whence it came, in order to fnun it. It is very ma- 
 terial, therefore, to know the caufe of evil ; but to know that 
 of good, which is always welcome, is of little ufe ; that is, 
 fuch a knowledge feems not to promife any addition to his 
 happinefs. When a man once apprehends fuch an in* ifible 
 enemy, it is reafonable to think, that he would be glad to 
 appeafe, and make him his friend, if he could find him out ; 
 it his highly probable, like wife, that in order to this, he 
 would fearch, inveiiigate, and. lo,,k every where about him; 
 and that finding all his inquiries upon earth in vain, he would 
 lift up his eyes to the fky. 
 
 Hor. And fo a wild man might ; and look down and up 
 again long enough before he would be the wifeV. I can 
 eaiily conceive, that a creature muft labour under great per- 
 plexities, when it actually fears fomething, of which it knows 
 neither what it is, nor where it is ; and that, though a man 
 had all the reafon in the world to think it invifible, he would 
 itill be more afraid of it in the dark, than when he could fee. 
 
 Cleo. Whilft a man is but an imperrecl thinker, and wholly 
 employed in furthering felf prefervation in the molt limple 
 manner, and removing the immediate obstacles he meets 
 with in that purfuit, this affair, perhaps, affects him but lit- 
 tle ; but when he comes to be a tolerable reafoner, and has 
 leifure to reflect, it mud produce ftrange chimeras and fur- 
 mifes ; and a wild couple would not converfe together long, 
 before they would endeavour to exprefs their minds to one 
 another concerning this matter ; and, as in time they would 
 invent and agree upon, certain founds of diitinction for feve- 
 ral things, of which the ideas would often occur, fo I be- 
 lieve, that this invifible caufe would be one of the firft, which 
 they would coin a name for. A wild man and a wild wo- 
 man would not take leis care of their helplels brood than o- 
 ther animals ; and it is not to imagined, but the children that 
 were brought up by them, though without initruction 
 or difcipiine, would, before they were ten years old, ob- 
 ferve in their parents this fear of an invifible caufe. It 
 is incredible likewife, considering, how much men differ 
 from one another in features, complexion, and temper, 
 that all mould form the lame idea of this caufe ; from 
 whence it would follow, that as foon as any coniiderable 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 413 
 
 number of men could intelligibly conveife together, it 
 would appear, that there were different opinions among 
 them concerning the invifible caufe : the fear and acknow- 
 ledgment of it being universal, and man always attributing 
 his own paffions to every thing, which he conceives to think, 
 every body would be felicitous to avoid the hatred and ill- 
 will, and, if it was pothole, to gain the friendship of fuch a 
 power. If we conlider thefe things, and what we know of 
 the nature of man, it is hardly to be conceived, that any con- 
 fiderable number of our fpecies could have any intercourse 
 together long, in peace or otherwife, but wilful lies would be 
 raifed concerning this power, and fome would pretend to 
 have feen or heard it. How different opinions about inviii- 
 ble power, may, by the malice and deceit of impoflors, be 
 made the occaiion of mortal enmity among multitudes, is 
 eaiily accounted for. If we want rain very much, and I can 
 be perfuaded, that it is your fault we have none, there needs 
 greater caufe to quarrel ; and nothing has happened in the 
 world, of prieftcraft or inhumanity, folly or abomination, on 
 religious accounts, that cannot be folved or explained, with 
 the leaf! trouble, from thefe data, and the principle of fear. 
 
 Hor. I think I muff yield to you, that the firlt motive of 
 religion, among favages, was fear; but you mult allow me 
 in your turn, that from the general thankfulnefs that nations 
 have always paid to their gods, for fignal benefits and fuc- 
 cefs ; the many hecatombs that have been offered after vic- 
 tories ; and the various institutions of games and feitivals ; it 
 is evident, that when men came to be wrfer, and more ci- 
 vilized, the greatelt part of their religion was built upon gra- 
 titude. 
 
 Cleo. You labour hard, I fee, to vindicate the honour of 
 our fpecies; but we have no fuch caufe to boart of it : and 
 I fhall demonilrate to you, that a well-w r eighed confideration, 
 and a thorough underftandmg of our nature, will give us 
 much lefs reafon to exult in our pride, than it will furnilli 
 us with, for the exercife of our humility. In the firft place, 
 there is no difference between the original nature of a lavage, 
 and that of a civilized man : they are both born with fear - y 
 and neither of them, if they have their fenfes about them, 
 can live many years, but an invifible Power, will, at one 
 time or other, become the object of that fear ; and this will 
 happen to every man, whether he be wild and alone, or in 
 fociety, and under the belt difciphne. We know by expe- 
 
414 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 rience, that empires, ftates, and kingdoms, may excel 
 in arts and fciences, politenefs, and all worldly wifdom, and 
 at the fame time be ilaves to the grofTefl idolatry, and fub- 
 mit to all the inconfiltencies of a falfe religion. The mofc 
 civilized people have been as foolifh and .abfurd in facred 
 worfhip as it is poffible for any favages to be ; and the firft 
 have often been guilty of ftudied cruelties, which the latter 
 would never have thought of. The Carthaginians were a 
 fubtle flourifhing people, an opulent and formidable na- 
 tion, and Hannibal had half conqueredthe Romans, when 
 fiill to their idols they facrificed the children of their 
 chief nobility. And, as to private perfons, there are 
 innumerable inftances in the mod polite ages of men 
 of fenfe and virtue, that have entertained the moll refer- 
 able, unworthy, and extravagant notions of the Supreme 
 Being. What confufed and unaccountable apprehenfions 
 mufl not fome men have had of Providence, to acl as they 
 did ! Alexander Severus, who fucceeded Heliogabaius, was 
 a great reformer of abufes, and thought to be as good a 
 prince as his predeceffor was a bad one : In his palace he 
 had an oratory, a cabinet fet alide for his private devotion, 
 where he had the images of Appollonius Tyanaeus, Orpheus, 
 Abraham, Jefus Chrifc, and fuch like gods, fays his hifto- 
 rian. What makes you fmile ? 
 
 Hor. To think how induftrious priefts are in concealing a 
 man's failings, when they would have you think well of him. 
 What you fay of Severus, I had read before; when looking 
 one day for fomething in Moreri, I happened to caft my 
 eye on the article of that emperor, where no mention is 
 made either of Orpheus or Appollonius ! which, remember- 
 ing the paffage in Lampridius, I wondered at ; and thinking 
 that I might have been miftaken, I again confulted that au- 
 thor, where I found it, as you have related it. I do not 
 queflion but Moreri left this out on purpofe to repay the ci- 
 vilities of the emperor to the Chriftians, whom, he tells us, 
 Severus had been very favourable to. 
 
 Cleo: That is not impoffible in a Roman Catholic. But 
 what I would fpeak to, in the fecond place, is the feflivals 
 you mentioned, the hecatombs after victories, and the gene- 
 ral thankfulnefs of nations to their gods. I defire you would 
 confider, that in facred matters, as w r ell as all human affairs, 
 there are rites and ceremonies, and many demonftrations of 
 refpect to be feen, that to outward appearance feem to pro* 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 415 
 
 Ceed from gratitude, which, upon due examination, will be 
 found to have been originally the refult of fear. At what 
 time the floral games were firft infiituted, is not well known : 
 but they never were celebrated every year conftantly, before 
 a very unfeafonable fpring put the fenate upon the decree 
 that made them annual. To make up the true compound 
 of reverence or veneration, love and eiteem are as necelYary 
 ingredients as fear ; but the latter alone is capable of making 
 men counterfeit both the former; as is evident from the 
 duties that are outwardly paid to tyrants, at the fame time 
 that inwardly they are execrated and hated. Idolators have 
 always behaved themfelves to every inviiible caufe they 
 adored, as men do to a lawlefs arbitrary power ; when they 
 reckon it as captious, haughty, and unreafonable, as they 
 allow it to be fovereign, unlimited, and irrefiilible. What 
 motive could the frequent repetitions of the fame folemnities 
 fpring from, whenever it was fufpected that the leail holy 
 trifle had been omitted ? You know, how often the fame 
 farce was once acted over again, becaufe after every per- 
 formance there was Hill room to apprehend that fomething 
 had been neglected. Do but confult, I beg of you, and call 
 to mind your own reading ; call your eyes on the infinite 
 variety of ideas men have formed to themfelves, and the 
 raft multitude of diviiions they have made of the inviiible 
 caufe, which every one imagines to influence human affairs : 
 run over the hiftory of all ages ; look into every confiderable 
 nation, their ftraits and calamities, as well as victories and 
 fuccefTes ; the lives of great generals, and other famous men, 
 their adverfe fortune and profperity : mind at which times 
 their devotion was moft fervent ; when oracles were moft 
 confulted, and on what accounts the gods were moft fre- 
 quently addrefTed. Do but calmly confider every thing 
 you can remember relating to fuperftition, whether grave, 
 ridiculous, or execrable, and you will find, in the firft place, 
 that the heathens, and all that have been ignorant of the 
 true Deity, though many of them were perfons otherwife of 
 great knowledge, fine underilanding, and tried probity, 
 have reprefented their gods, not as wife, benign, equitable, 
 and merciful ; but, on the contrary, as paffionate, revengeful, 
 capricious, and unrelenting beings ; not to mention the 
 abominable vices and grofs immoralities, the vulgar were 
 taught to afcnbe to them : In the fecond, that for eveiy one 
 inflance that / men have addrefTed themfelves to an inviiible 
 
4l6 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 caufe, from a principle of gratitude, there are a thoufand in 
 every falfe religion to convince you, that divine worfhip, 
 and men's fub million to Heaven, have always proceeded 
 from their fear. The word religion itfelf, and the fear of 
 God, are fynonimous ; and had man's acknowledgment been 
 originally founded in love, as it is in fear, the craft of irnpof- 
 tors could have made no advantage of the pailion ; and all 
 their boafted acquaintance with gods and goddefTes, would 
 have been ufelefs to them, if men had worfhipped the im- 
 mortal powers, as they called their idols, out of gratitude. 
 
 Hor. All lawgivers and leaders of people gained their 
 point, and acquired what they expected from thofe pretences, 
 which is reverence ; and which to produce, you have owned 
 yourfelf, love and eileem to be as requiiite as fear. 
 
 Cleo. But from the laws they impofed on men, and the 
 punifhments they annexed to the breach and neglect, of 
 them, it is eaiily feen which of the ingredients they moftVre- 
 lied upon. 
 
 Hor. It would be difficult to name a king, or other great 
 man, in very ancient times, who attempted to govern an in- 
 fant nation that laid no claim to fome commerce or other 
 with an invihble power, either held byhimfelf orhis anceftors. 
 Between them and Mofes, there is no other difference, than 
 that he alone was a true prophet, and really inipired, and all 
 the reil were impoilors. 
 
 Cleo. What would you infer from this ? 
 
 Hor. That we can fay no more for ourfelves, than what 
 men of ail parties and perfualions have done in all ages, 
 every one for their caufe, viz. That they alone were in the 
 right, and all that differed from them in^the wrong. 
 
 Cleo. Is it not fufficient that we can fay this of ourfelves 
 with truth and juiiice, after the ftricteft examination ; when 
 no other caufe can Itand any teft, or bear the leait inquiry ? 
 A man may relate miracles that never were wrought, and 
 give an account of things that never happened ; but a thou- 
 fand years hence, all knowing men will agree, that nobody 
 could have wrote Sirlfaac Newton's Prineipia, unieis he had 
 been a great mathematician. When Moles acquainted the 
 Ifraelites with what had been revealed to him, he told them 
 a truth, which nobody then upon earth knew but himfelf. 
 
 Hor. You mean the unity ci God, and Ins being the Au- 
 thor of the univerfe. 
 
 Cko, I do lb. 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 417 
 
 Hor. But is not every man of fenfe capable of knowing 
 this from his reafon ? 
 
 Geo. Yes, when the art of reafoning confequentially is 
 come to that perfection, which it has been arrived at thefe 
 feveral hundred years, and himfelf has been led into the me- 
 thod of thinking juftly. Every common failor could fleer a 
 courfe through the midfl of the ocean, as foon as the ufe of 
 the loadftone, and the mariners compafs were invented. But 
 before that, the moll expert navigator would have trembled at 
 the thoughts of fuch an enterprife. When Mofes acquainted, 
 and imbued the pofterity of Jacob with this fublime and im- 
 portant truth, they were degenerated into fiaves, attached 
 to the fuperftition of the country they dwelled in ; and the 
 Egyptians, their mailers, though they were great proficients 
 in many arts and fciences, and more deeply fkilled in the 
 myileries of nature than any other nation then was, had the 
 moft abject and abominable notions of the Deity, which it 
 is pothole to conceive ; and no favages could have exceeded 
 their ignorance and flupidity, as to the Supreme Being, the 
 invifible caufe that governs the world. He taught the If- 
 raelites a priori ; and their children, before they were nine 
 or ten years old, knew what the greatefl philofophers did not 
 attain to, by the light of nature, till many ages after. 
 
 Ihr. The advocates for the ancients will never allow, that 
 any modern philofophers have either thought or reafoned 
 better, than men did in former ages. 
 
 Cleo. Let them believe their eyes : What you fay every 
 man of fenfe may know, by his own reafon, was in the be- 
 ginning of Chriilianity contefled, and denied with zeal and 
 vehemence by the greatefc men in Rome. Celius, Symma- 
 chus, Porphyry, Hierocles, and other famous rhetoricians, 
 and men of unqueflionable good fenfe, wrote in defence of 
 idolatry, and ftrenuoufly maintained the plurality and mul- 
 tiplicity of their gods. Mofes lived about fifteen hundred 
 years before the reign of Auguflus. If in a place where I 
 was very well affured that nobody underrlbod any thing of 
 colouring or drawing, a man mould tell me, that he had ac- 
 quired the art of painting by inipiration, I fhould be more 
 ready to laugh at him than to believe him ; but if I faw him 
 draw feveral line portraits before my face, my unbelief would 
 ceafe, and I fhould think it ridiculous apy longer to fufpedl 
 his veracity. All the accounts that other lawgivers and 
 founders of nations have given of the deities, which they or 
 
 E e 
 
41 8 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 their predeceffors converfed with, contained ideas that were 
 unworthy of the Divine Being ; and by the light of nature 
 only, it is eafily proved, that they mull have beenfalie : But 
 the image which Mofes gave the Jews of the Supreme Be- 
 ing, that He was One, .and had made heaven and earth, will 
 Hand all tells, and is a truth that will outlaft the world. 
 Thus, I think, I have fully proved, on the one hand, that all 
 true religion mult be revealed, and could not have come into 
 the world without miracle ; and, on the other, that what all 
 men are born with towards religion, before they receive any 
 infiruction, is fear. 
 
 Hor. You have convinced me many ways, that we are 
 poor creatures by nature ; but I cannot help ftruggling a- 
 gainil thofe mortifying truths, when I hear them ilarted 
 firit. I long to hear the origin of fociety, and I continually 
 retard your account of it myielf with new queflions. 
 
 Cleo. Do you remember where we left oft ? 
 
 Hor. I do not think w r e have made any progrefs yet ; for 
 we have nothing towards it but a wild man, and a wild wo- 
 man, with fome children and grandchildren, which. they are 
 not able either to teach or govern. 
 
 Cleo, I thought that the introduction of the reverence, 
 which the wilder! fon mud feel, more or lefs, for the moil fa- 
 vage father, if he ilays with him, had been a conliderable 
 Hep, 
 
 Hor. I thought fo too, till you deilroyed the hopes I had 
 conceived of it yourielf, by fhowingme the incapacity of fa- 
 vage parents to make ufe of it : And iince we are ilill as far 
 from the origin of fociety as ever we were, or ever can be, in 
 my opinion, I deiire, that before you proceed to that main 
 point, you would anfwer Avhat you have put off once already, 
 which is my queftion concerning the notions of right and 
 wrong : I cannot be eafy before 1 have your fentiments on 
 this head. 
 
 Cleo. Your demand is very reafonable, and I will fatisfy 
 you as well as 1 can. A man of fenfe, learning, and experi- 
 ence, that has been well educated, will always find out the 
 difference between right and wrong in things diametrically 
 oppolue ; and there are certain facts, wiiich he will always 
 condemn, and others which he will always approve of: To 
 kill a member of the fame fociety that has not offended us, 
 or to rob him, will always be bad ; and to cure the fick, and 
 be beneficent to the public, he will always pronounce to be 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 4 1 9 
 
 good anions : and for a man to do as he will be done by, he 
 will always fay is a good rule in life; and not only men of 
 great accomplifbments, and fuch as have learned to think 
 abitra&ly, but all men of middling capacities, that have beefl 
 brought up in fociety, will agree in this, in all countries and 
 in all ages. Nothing likewife feems more true to all, that 
 have made any tolerable ufe of their faculty oi thinking, than 
 that out of the fociety, before any diviiion was made, either by 
 contract or otherwife, all men would have an equal right to 
 the earth : But do you believe that our wild man, if he had 
 never feen any other human creature but his favage confort 
 and his progeny, wo aid ever have entertained the fame no- 
 tions of right and wrong, 
 
 Hor. Hardly; his fmall capacity in the art of reafoning, 
 would hinder him from doing it fo juftly ; and the power he 
 found he had over his children, would render him very arbi- 
 trary. 
 
 Cleo. But without that incapacity, fuppofe that at three- 
 fcore he was, by a miracle, to receive a fine judgment, and 
 the faculty of thinking and reafoning confequentially, in as 
 great a perfection as the wifeft man ever did, do you think 
 he would ever alter his notion of the right he had to every 
 thing he could manage, or have other fentiments in relation 
 to himfelf and his progeny, than from his behaviour it ap- 
 peared he entertained, when he feemed to act almoft altoge- 
 ther by ininnci? 
 
 Hor. Without doubt: For, if judgment and reafon were 
 given him, what could hinder him from making ufe of thofe 
 faculties, as well as others do ? 
 
 Cleo. You feem not to confider, that no man can reafon 
 but a pojleriori, from ibmething that he knows, or fuppofes 
 to be true : What I faid of the differences between right and 
 wrong, I fpoke of perfons who remembered their education, 
 and lived in fociety ; or, at leail, fuch as plainly law others 
 of their own ipecies, that were independent of them, and ei- 
 ther their equals or fuperiors. 
 
 Hor. 1 begin to believe you are in the right : But at fe- 
 cond thoughts, 'why might not a man, with great juftice, 
 think himielf the fovereign of a place, where he knew no hu- 
 man creature but his own wife, and the defcendents of both? 
 
 Cleo. With all my heart : But may there not be an hund- 
 red iuch favages in the world with large families, that might 
 never meet, nor ever hear of one another ? 
 E e 2 
 
4 20 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. A thoufand, if you will, and then there would be fo 
 many natural fovereigns. 
 
 Geo. Very well : what I would have "you obferve, is, that 
 there are things which are commonly eiteemed to be eternal 
 truths, that an hundred or a thoufand people of fine fenfe 
 and judgment, could have no notion of. What if it fnould 
 be true, that every man is born with this domineering fpirit, 
 and that we cannot be cured of it, but by our commerce 
 with others, and the experience of facts, by which we are 
 convinced that we have no fuch right ? Let us examine a 
 man's whole life, from his infancy to his grave, and fee which 
 of the two feems to be molt natural to him ; a deiire of fu- 
 periority, and grafping every thing tojhimfelf, or a tendency to 
 act according to the reafouable notions of right and wrong; 
 and we fhall find, that, in his early youth, the firit is very 
 confpicuous ; that nothing appears of the fecond before he 
 has received fome initructions, and that this latter will al- 
 ways have lefs influence upon his actions, the more uncivilized 
 he remains : From whence I infer, that the notions of right 
 and wrong are acquired; for if they were as natural, or if they 
 afFected us as early as the opinion, or rather the initindt we 
 are born with, of taking every thing to be our own, no child 
 would ever cry for his eldeft brother's play-things. 
 
 Hor. I think there is no right more natural, nor more rea- 
 sonable, than that which men have over their children; and 
 what we owe our parents can never be repaid. 
 
 Geo. The obligations we have to good parents for their 
 care and education, is certainly very great. 
 
 Hor. That is the leait. We are indebted to them for our 
 being ; we might be educated by. an hundred others, but 
 without them we could never have exiited. 
 
 Geo. So we could have no malt liquor, without the ground 
 that bears the barley : I know no obligations for benefits 
 that never were intended. Should a man fee a fine parcel of 
 cherries, be tempted to eat, and devour them accordingly 
 with great fatisfaction, it is pollible he might fwallow fome 
 of the (tones, which we know by experience do not digeit : 
 If twelve or fourteen months after, he fhould find a little 
 fprig of a cherry-tree growing in a field, where nobody would 
 expect it, if he recollected the time, he had been there be- 
 fore, it is not improbable that he might guefs at the true 
 reafon how it came there. It is pollible, likewife, that for 
 curiofity's fake, this man might take up this plant, and takr 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 4I t 
 
 care of it; I am well allured, that whatever became of it af- 
 terwards, the right he would have to it from the merit of his 
 a&ion, would be the fame which a favage would have to his 
 child. 
 
 Hor. I think there would be a vail difference between 
 the one and the other: the cherry-ftone was never part of 
 himfelf, nor mixed with his blood. 
 
 Cleo. Pardon me ; all the difference, as vaft as you take it 
 to be, can only confift in this, That the cherry-ftone was not 
 part of the man who fwallowed it, fo long, nor received fo 
 great an alteration in its figure, whilll it was, as fome other 
 things which the favage fwallowed, were, and received in 
 their figure, whilft they flayed with him. 
 
 Hor. But he that fwallowed the cherry-ftone, did nothing 
 to it; it produced a plant as a vegetable, which it might 
 have done as well without his fwallowing it. 
 
 Cleo. That is true ; and I own, that as to the caufe to 
 which the plant owes its exigence, you are in the right : but 
 I plainly fpoke as to the merit of the action, which in either 
 cafe could only proceed from their intentions as free agents ; 
 and the favage might, and w T ould in all probability act with 
 as little defign to get a child, as the other had eat cherries in 
 order to plant a tree. It is commonly laid, that our children 
 are our own flefli and blood : but this way of fpeaking is 
 ilrangely figurative. However, allow 7 it to be juft, though 
 rhetoricians have no name for it, what does it prove, what 
 benevolence in us, what kindnefs to others in the intention? 
 
 Hor. You fhall fay w 7 hat you pleafe, but I think, that no- 
 thing can endear children to their parents more, than the re- 
 flection that they are their own flelh and blood. 
 
 Cleo. I am of your opinion ; and it is a plain demonftration 
 of the fuperlative value we have for our own felves, and every 
 thing that comes from us, if it be good, and counted laud- 
 able; whereas, other things that are offenfive, though equally 
 our own, are in compliment to oui felves, induftrioufiy conceal- 
 ed ; and, as foon as it is agreed upon that any thing is tin- 
 feemly, and rather a difgrace to us than otherwdfe, prefently it 
 becomes ill manners to name, or fo much as to hint at it. The 
 contents of the flomach are varioufly difpofed of, but w 7 e 
 have no hand in that ; and whether they go to the blood, or 
 elfewhere, the lad thing we did to them voluntarily, and with 
 our knowledge, was fwallowing them ; and whatever is after- 
 Wards performed by the animal economy, a man contributes 
 £ e 3 
 
4^2 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 n more to, than he does to the .going of his watch. This is 
 another inftance of the unjuft claim we lay to every perform- 
 ance we are but in the lead concerned in. if good comes of 
 it, though nature does all the work ; but whoever places a 
 merit in his prolific faculty, ought like wife to ex peel the 
 blame, when he has the ftone, or a fever. Without this vio- 
 lent principle of innate folly, no rational creature would 
 value himfelf on his free agency, and at the fame time accept 
 of applaufe for actions that are vilibly independent of his 
 will. Life in all creatures is a compound a&ion, but the 
 fhare they have in it themfelves, is only pallive. We are 
 forced to breathe before we know it; and our continuance 
 palpably depends upon the guardianfliip and perpetual tute- 
 lage of nature; whilft every part of her works, ourfelves not 
 excepted, is an impenetrable fecret to us, that eludes all in- 
 quiries. Nature furnifhes us with all the fubitance of our 
 food herfelf, nor does fne truft to our wifdom for an appetite 
 to crave it ; to chew it, fhe teaches us by inftincl:, and bribes 
 us to it by pleafure. This feeming to be an action of choice, 
 and ourfelves being confeious of the performance, we per- 
 haps may be faid to have a part in it ; but the moment af- 
 ter, nature refurnes her care, and again withdrawn from our 
 knowledge, preferves us in a myflenous manner, without any 
 help or concurrence of ours, that we are ftnlible of. Since, 
 then, the management of what we have eat and drank remains 
 entirely under the direction of nature, what honour or flrame 
 ought we to receive from any part of the. product, whether 
 it is to ferve as a doubtful means toward generation, or yields 
 to vegetation a lefs fallible affiftance? It is nature that 
 prompts us to propagate as well as to eat ; and a favage man 
 multiplies his kind by inftincl: as other animals do, without 
 more thought or deiign of preferving his fpecies, than anew- 
 born infant has of keeping itielf alrve, in the action of fuck- 
 ing. 
 
 Hor. Yet nature gave the different innincts to both, for 
 thole reafons. 
 
 Cleo. Without doubt ; but what I mean, is, that the reafon 
 of the thing is as much the motive of action in the one, as it 
 is in the other; and I verily believe, that a wild woman 
 who had never icca, or not minded the production of any 
 young animals, would have feveral children before the would 
 guefs at the real caufe of them ; any more than [{ fhe had 
 the cholic, fhe would luipect that it proceeded from ioiue de- 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 423 
 
 licious fruit fhe had eaten ; efpecially if fhe had feafted upon 
 it for feveral months, without perceiving any inconveniency 
 from it. Children, all the world over, are brought forth 
 with pain, more or lefs, which feems to have no affinity with 
 pleafure ; and an untaught creature, however docile and at- 
 tentive, would want feveral clear experiments, before it 
 would believe that the one could produce or be the caufe of 
 the other. 
 
 Hor. Mod people marry in hopes, and with a defign of 
 having children. 
 
 Cka. I doubt, not ; and believe that there are as many 
 that would rather not have children, or at lead not fo fall as 
 often they come, as there are that w T ifh for them, even in 
 the ilate of matrimony • but out of it, in the amours of thou- 
 fands, that revel in enjoyments, children are rekoned to be 
 the greater! calamity that can befal them; and often what 
 criminal love gave birth to, without thonght, more criminal 
 pride dellroys, with purpofed and confederate cruelty. But 
 all this belongs to people in fociety, that are knowing, and 
 well acquainted with the natural confequences of things ; 
 w T hat I urged, I fpoke of a favage. 
 
 Hor. Still the end of love, between the different fexes, in 
 all animals, is the prefervation of their fpecies. 
 
 Cko. I have allowed that already. But once more the fa- 
 vage is not prompted to love from that confideration : he 
 propagates before he knows the ccnfequence of it; and I 
 much queilion, whether the mod civilized pair, in the moil 
 chafle of their embraces, ever acled from the care of their 
 fpecies, as a real principle. A rich man may, with great im- 
 patience, with for a fon to inherit his name and his eilate ; 
 perhaps he may marry from no other motive, and for no 
 other purpofe ; but all the fatisfaction he feems to receive, 
 from the flattering profpect of an happy poilerity, can only 
 arife from a plealing reflection on himfelf, as the caufe of thofe 
 defendants. How much foe.ver this man's poilerity might 
 be thought to owe him for their being, it is certain, that the 
 motive he acled from, Was to oblige himfelf: itill here is a 
 wiihing for poilerity, a thought and defign of getting child- 
 ren, which no wild couple could have to boatl of; yet they 
 would be vain enough to look upon themfelves, as the prin- 
 cipal caufe of all their offspring and defendants, though 
 they mould live to fee the fifth or fixth generation. 
 
 Ee4 
 
4^4 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. I can find no vanity in that, and I fhould think them 
 fo myfelf. 
 
 Cko. Yet, as free agents, it would be plain, that they had 
 contributed nothing to the exiilence of their profperity. 
 
 Hor. Nov/ furely, you have overfhot the mark ; nothing? 
 
 Cko. No, nothing, even to that of their own children, 
 knowingly ; if you will allow that men have their appetites 
 from nature. There is but one real caufe in the univerfe, to 
 produce that infinite variety of ftupendous effects, and all the 
 mighty labours that are performed in nature, either within, 
 or far beyond the reach of our fenfes. Parents are the ef- 
 ficients of their offspring, with no more truth or propriety of 
 fpeech, than the tools of an artificer, that were made and 
 contrived by himfelf, are the caufe of the moil elaborate of 
 his works. The fenfelefs engine that raifes water into the 
 copper, and the pafilve math-tub, have between them, as 
 great a fhare in the art and action of brewing, as the livelier]; 
 male and female ever had in the production- of an animal. 
 
 Hor. You make flocks and ftones of us; is it not in our 
 choice to act, or not to act ? 
 
 Cko. Yes, it is my choice now, either to run my head 
 againlt the wall, or to let it alone ; but, I hope, it does not 
 puzzle you much to guefs which of the two I fhall choof'e. 
 
 Hor. But do not we move our bodies as we lift ; and is not 
 every action determined by the will ? 
 
 Cko. What fignifies that, where there is a paffion that ma- 
 nifeftly fways, and with a Uriel hand governs that will ? 
 
 Hor. Still we act with confeioufnefs, and are intelligent 
 creatures. 
 
 Cko.. Not in the affair I fpeak of; where, willing or not 
 willing, we are violently urged from within, and in a man- 
 ner compelled not only to affift in, but likewife to long for, 
 and, in fpite of our teeth, be highly pleafed with a perform- 
 ance that infinitely furpafles our understanding. The com- 
 panion I made is juft, in every part of it; for the molt' lov- 
 ing, and, if you will, the molt fagacious couple you can con- 
 ceive, are as ignorant in the myftery of generation, nay, 
 muft remain, after having had twenty children together, as 
 much uninformed, and as little confeious of nature's tranfac- 
 tions, and what has been wrought within them, as inani- 
 mate utenfiis are of the molt myftic and molt ingenious ope- 
 rations they have been employed in. 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 425 
 
 Hor. I do not know any man more expert in tracing hu- 
 man pride, or more fevere in bumbling it than yourfelf; 
 but when the fubject, comes in your way, you do not 
 know how to leave it. I wifh you would, at once, go over 
 to the origin of fociety; which, how to derive, or bring 
 about at all, from the favage family, as we left it, is pail my 
 ikill. It is impoffible but thofe children, when they grew up, 
 would quarrel on innumerable occafions : if men had but 
 three appetites to gratify, that are the molt obvious, they 
 could never live together in peace, without government : for 
 though they all paid a deference to the father, yet if he was 
 a man void of all prudence, that could give them no good 
 rules to walk by, I am perfuaded that they would live in a 
 perpetual date of war ; and the more numerous his offspring 
 grew, the more the old favage would be puzzled between 
 Ins defire and incapacity of government. As they increafed 
 in numbers, they would be forced to extend their limits, and 
 the fpot they were born upon would not hold them long : 
 nobody would be willing to leave his native vale, efpecially 
 if it was a fruitful one. The more I think upon it, and the 
 more I look into fuch multitudes, the lefs I can conceive 
 which way they could ever be formed into a fociety. 
 
 Cleo. The firit thing that could make man affociate, would 
 be common danger, which unites the greated enemies : this 
 danger they would certainly be in, from wild beads, coniider- 
 ing that no uninhabited country is without them, and the 
 defencelefs condition in which men come into the world. 
 This often mull have been a cruel article, to prevent the in- 
 creafe of our fpecies. 
 
 Hor. The fuppofition then, that this wild man, with his 
 progeny, fhould for fifty years live undidurbed, is not very 
 probable; and 1 need not trouble myfelf about our favages 
 being embarraffed with too numerous an offspring. 
 
 Cleo. You fay right ; there is no probability, that a man 
 and his progeny, all unarmed, fhould lb long efcape the ra- 
 venous hunger of beads of prey, that are to live upon what 
 animals they can get ; that leave no place unfearched, nor 
 pains untried, to come at food, though with the hazard of 
 their lives. The reafon why I made that fuppoiition, was to 
 mow you, firft, the improbability that a wild and altogether 
 untaught man mould have the knowledge and difcretion 
 which Sir William Temple gives him ; fecondly, that child- 
 ren who converfed with their own fpecies, though they 
 
426 THE FIFTH BIAlOGTJE. 
 
 were brought up by favages, would be governable ; and con- 
 fequently, that all fuch, when come to maturity, would be fit 
 for fociety, how ignorant and unfkilfui foever their parents 
 might have been. 
 
 Hor: I thank you for it ; for it has Hi own me, that the 
 very firft generation of the moft bratifh favages, was fufficient 
 to produce fociable creatures ; but that to produce a man 
 fit to govern- others, much more was required. 
 
 Cleo. I return to my conjecture concerning the firft mo- 
 tive that would make favages afTociate 1 it is not poffible to 
 know any thing with certainty of beginnings, where men 
 were deftitute of letters ; but I think, that the nature of the 
 thing makes it highly probable, that it mud have been their 
 common danger, from beafts of prey; as well fuch fly ones 
 as lay in wait for their children, and the defencelefs animals, 
 men made ufe of for themfelves, as the more bold, that 
 would openly attack grown men and women. What much 
 confirms me in this opinion is, the general agreement of all 
 the relations we have, from the molt ancient times, in dif- 
 ferent countries : for, in the infancy of all nations, profane 
 hiflory is {turfed with the accounts of the conflicts men had 
 with wild beads. It took up the chief labours of the heroes 
 of remoter!: antiquity, and their greater! prowefs was mown 
 in killing of dragons, and fubduing of other monfters. 
 
 Hor. Do you lay any ftrefs upon fphinxes, baiilifks, flying 
 dragons, and bulls that fpit fire ? 
 
 Cleo. As much as I do on modern witches. But I believe 
 that all thofe fictions had their rife from noxious beafts, the 
 mifchiefs they did, and other realities that ltruck terror into 
 man ; and I believe, that if no man had ever been feen on a 
 horfe's back, we fhould never have heard of Centaurs. The 
 prodigious force and rage that are apparent in fome favage 
 animals, and the aftonifhing power, which, from the various 
 poifons of venomous creatures, we arefure muftbehid in others; 
 the fudden and unexpected aftaults of ferpents, the variety of 
 them; the V aft hulk of crocodiles; the irregular and uncommon 
 ihapes of fome fifties, and the wings of others, are allthings that 
 are capable of alarming man's fear; and it is incredible what 
 chimeras that pailion alone may produce in a terrified mind : 
 the dangers of the day often haunt men at night with ad- 
 dition of terror ; and from what they remember in their 
 dreams, it is eafy to forge realities. If you will confider, 
 likewife> that the natural ignorance of man, and his hanker- 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 427 
 
 ing after knowledge, will augment the credulity which ho >e 
 and f.ar firfl give birth to; the defire the generality ha;e 
 of applaufe, and the great efteem that is commonly had for 
 the merveilleux, and the witneiTes and relaters of it : If, I 
 fay, you will confider all thefe. you will eafily difcover, how 
 many creatures came to be talked of, defcribed, and formal- 
 ly painted, that never had any exigence. 
 
 Hor. I do not wonder at the origin of monftrous -figures, 
 or the invention of any fables whatever; but in the reaibn 
 you gave for the firft motive, that would make men combine 
 in one intereft, I find fomething very perplexing, which I 
 own I never thought of before. When I reflect on the con- 
 dition of man, as you have fet it before me, naked and de- 
 fencelefs, and the multitude of ravenous animals that thirft 
 after his blood, and are fuperior to him in ilrength, and 
 completely armed by nature, it is inconceivable to me, how 
 our fpecies fhould have fubfnled. 
 
 Cleo. What you obferve is well worthy our attention. 
 
 Hor. It is ailonifhing. What filthy, aDominable beads 
 are lions and tigers 1 
 
 Cleo. I think them to be very fine creatures ; there is no- 
 thing I admire more than a lion. 
 
 Hor. We have itrange accounts of his generofity and 
 gratitude ; but do you believe them ? 
 
 Cleo, I do not trouble my head about them : What I ad- 
 mire is his fabric, his ftrudture. and his rage, fo juftly pro- 
 portioned to one another. There are order, fymmetry, and 
 fuperlative wifdom to be obferved in all the works of natuie; 
 but fhe has not a machine, of which every part more vifibly 
 anfwers the end for which the whole was formed. 
 
 Hor. The deftruction of other animals. 
 
 Cleo. That is true; but how confpiouous is that end, 
 without my fiery or uncertainty ! that grapes were made for 
 wine, and man for fociety, are truths not accomplifhed in 
 every individual: but there is a real majefly ftamped on 
 every (ingle lion, at the light of which the flouted animals 
 fubmit and tremble. When we look upon and examine his 
 maiTy talons, the fize of them, and the laboured firmnefs with 
 which they are fixed in, and faflened to that prodigious paw; 
 his dreadful teeth, the ftrength of his jaws, and the width of 
 his mouth equally terrible, the ufe of them is obvious ; but 
 when we confider, moreover, the make of his limbs, the 
 toughnefs of his flefh and tendons, the folidity of his bones, 
 7 
 
42 B THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 beyond that of other animals, and the whole frame of him ? 
 together with his never-ceafing anger, fpeed, and agility ; 
 whilft in the defart he ranges king of beafts ! When, I fay, 
 we confider all thefe things, it is itupidity not to fee the de- 
 iign of nature, and with what amazing fkill the beautiful 
 creature is contrived for ofFenfive war and conqueft. 
 
 Hor. You are a good painter. But after all, why would 
 you judge of a creature's nature from what it was perverted 
 to, rather than from its original, the ftate it was firft. pro- 
 duced in ? The lion in Paradife was a gentle, loving creature. 
 Hear what Milton fays of his behaviour before Adam and 
 Eve, " as they fate recline on the foft downy bank, da- 
 " maik'd with flowers :" 
 
 -About them frifking play'd 
 
 All beafts of the earth, fince wild, and of all chafe 
 In wood or wildernefs, foreft or den j 
 Sporting the lion ramp'd, and in his paw 
 Dandel'd the kid 5 bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 
 Gambol'd before them. 
 
 What was it the lion fed upon ; what fuftenance had all thefe 
 beafts of prey in Paradife ? 
 
 Cleo. I do not know. Nobody who believes the Bible, 
 doubts, but that the whole ftate of Paradife, and the inter- 
 courfe between God and the firft man, were as much preter- 
 natural, as the creation out of nothing ; and, therefore, it 
 cannot be fuppofed, that they fhould be accounted for by 
 human reafon ; and if they were, Mofes would not be an- 
 fwerable for more than he advanced himfelf. The hiftory 
 which he has given us of thofe times is extremely fuccinc~t 7 
 and ought not to be charged with any thing contained in 
 the glories and paraphrafes that have been made upon it by 
 others. 
 
 Hor. Milton has faid nothing of Paradife, but what he 
 could juftify from Mofes. 
 
 Cleo. It is no where to be proved, from Mofes, that the 
 ftate of innocence lafted fo long, that goats, or any viviparous 
 animals could, have bred and brought forth young ones. 
 
 Hor. You mean that there could have been no kid. I 
 fhould never have made that cavil in fo fine a poem. It was 
 not in my thoughts : what I aimed at in repeating thofe lines, 
 was to mow you how fuperfluous and impertinent a lion 
 rnuft have been in Paradife , and that thofe who pretend to 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 429 
 
 find fault with the works of nature, might have cenfured 
 her with juftice, for laviiliing and throwing away fo many 
 excellencies upon a great beaft, to no purpofe. What a 
 fine variety of deftructive weapons, would they fay, what 
 prodigious ftrength of limbs and iinews are here given to a 
 creature ! What to do with ? to be quiet and dandle a kid. 
 I own, that to me, this province, the employment affigned 
 to the lion, feems to be as proper and well chofen, as if you 
 would make a nurfe of Alexander the Great. 
 
 Cleo. You might make as many flights upon a lion now, 
 if you faw him afleep. Nobody would think that a bull had 
 occafion for horns, who had never feen him other wife than 
 quietly grazing among a parcel of cows ; but, if one mould 
 fee him attacked by dogs, by a wolf, or a rival of his own 
 fpecies, he would foon find out that his horns were of great 
 ufe and fervice to him. The lion was not made to be always 
 in Paradife. 
 
 Hor. There I would have you. If the lion was contrived 
 for purpofes to be ferved and executed out of Paradife, then 
 it is manireft, from the very creation, that the fall of man 
 was determined and predeftmated. 
 
 Cleo. Foreknown it was : nothing could be hid from Om- 
 nifcience ; that is certain : But that it. was predeftinated fo 
 as to have prejudiced, or any wife influenced the free will of 
 Adam, I utterly deny. Buc that word, predeftinated, has* 
 made fo much noife in the world, and the thing itfelfhas 
 been thecaule of fo many fatal quarrels, and is fo inexpli- 
 cable, that I am refolved never to engage in any difpute 
 concerning it. 
 
 Hor. I cannot make you ; but what you have extolled fo 
 much, muft have coft the lives of thoufands of our fpecies; 
 and it is a wonder to me how men, when they were but few, 
 could poffibly defend themfelves, before they had fire arms, 
 or at leait bows and arrow 7 s ; for what number of naked men 
 and women, would be a match for one couple of lions r 
 
 Cleo. Yet, here we are ; and none of thofe animals are fuf- 
 fered to be wild, in any civilized nation ; our fuperior under- 
 Handing has got the ftart of them. 
 
 Hor. My reafon tells me it mull be that ; but I cannot 
 help obferying, that when human underftanding ferves your 
 purpofe to folve any thing, it is always ready and full grown; 
 but at other times, knowledge and reafoning are the work of 
 time, and men are not capable of thinking juftly, until after 
 
43° THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 many generations. Pray, before men had arms, what could 
 their underilanding do againfi lions, and what hindered wild 
 beailsfrom devouring mankind, as foon as they were born? 
 
 Geo. Providence. 
 
 Hor. Daniel, indeed, was faved by miracle ; but what is 
 that to the reft of mankind ? great numbers, we know, have, 
 at different times, been torn to pieces by favage beans : what 
 I want to know, is, the reafon that any of them efcaped, and 
 the whole fpecies was not deitroyed by them ; when men had 
 yet no weapons to defend, nor ftrong holds to fhelter them- 
 felves from the fury of thoie mercilefs creatures. 
 
 Geo. I have named it to you already, Providence. 
 
 Hor. But which way can you prove this miraculous affiil- 
 
 ance 
 
 ? 
 
 Geo. You ftill talk of miracles, and I fpeak of Providence, 
 or the all-governing Wiidom of God. 
 
 Hor. If you can, demontlrate to me, how that Wifdom in- 
 terpofed between our fpecies and that of lions, in the begin- 
 ning of the world, without miracle, any more than it dots at 
 prefent, eris nuhi magnus Apollo: for now, I am lure, a wdd 
 lion would prey upon a naked man, as foon, at leaft, as he 
 would upon an ox or an hoife. 
 
 Geo. Will not you allow me, that all properties, inftincrs, 
 and what we call the nature of things, animate or inanimate, 
 are the produce, the effects of that vViidom? 
 
 Hor. I never thought other vwie. 
 
 Geo. Then it will not be dirhcult to prove this to you. 
 Lions are never brought forth wild, but in very hot coun- 
 tries, as bears are the product of the cold. But the gene- 
 rality of our fpecies, which loves moderate w T armth, are moil 
 delighted with the middle regions. Men may, againlt their 
 wills, be inured to intenie cold, or by ufe and patience, ac- 
 cuftom themielves to exceilive heat ; but a mild air, and 
 w r eather between both extremes, being more agreeable to 
 human bodies, the greater! part of mankind would naturally 
 fettle in temperate climates, and with the lame conveniency, 
 as to every thing elie, never chooi'e any other. This would 
 very much leflen the danger men would be in from the 
 fierceft and moil irreiiilible wild beails. 
 
 Hor. But would lions and tigers in hot countries keep fo 
 clofe within their bounds, and bears in cold ones, as never to 
 flraggle or ilray beyond them ? 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 43! 
 
 Cleo. I do not fuppofe they would ; and men, as well as 
 cattle, have often been picked up by lions, far from the 
 places where thefe were whelped No wild beafts are 
 more fatal to our fpecies, than often we are to one ano- 
 ther ; and men purfned by their enemies have fled into 
 climates and countries, which they would never have chofe. 
 Avarice like wife and curiofity, have, without force or necef- 
 fity, often expofed men to dangers, which they might have 
 avoided, if they had been fatisfied with what nature required; 
 and laboured for felf-prefervation in that fimple manner, 
 which creatures lefs vain and fantafiical content themfelves 
 with. • In all thefe cafes, I do not queftion, but multitudes of 
 our fpecies have fuffered from lavage beafts, and other 
 noxious animals ; and on their account only, I verily believe, 
 it would have been impofiible for any number of men, to 
 have fettled or fubfifled in either very hot or very cold coun- 
 tries, before the invention of bows and arrows, or better 
 arms. But all this does nothing to overthrow my affertion : 
 what I wanted to prove, is, that all creatures choofing by in- 
 rlincl that degree of heat or cold which is moft natural to 
 them, there would be room enough in the world for man to 
 multiply his fpecies, for many ages, without running almofl 
 any rifk of being devoured either by lions or by bears; and 
 that the moft favage man would find this out, without the 
 help of his reafon. This. I call the work of Providence ; by 
 which I mean the unalterable wifdom of the Supreme Being, 
 in the harmonious difpoiition of the univerfe ; the fountain 
 of that incomprehenfible chain of caufes, on which all events 
 have their undoubted dependance. 
 
 Hor. You have made this out better than I had expected ; 
 but I am afraid, that what you alleged as the firft motive 
 towards fociety, is come to nothing by it. 
 
 Cleo. Do not fear that; there are other favage beafts, 
 againft which men could not guard themfelves unarmed, 
 without joining, and mutual affiilance : in temperate cli- 
 mates, mod uncultivated countries abound with wolves. 
 
 Hor. I have feen them in Germany ; they are of the fize 
 of a large maftiff ; but I thought their chief prey had been 
 fheep. 
 
 Cleo. Any thing they can conquer is their prey : they are 
 defperate creatures, and will fall upon men, cows, and horfes, 
 as well as upon iheep, when they are very hungry : they 
 have teeth like maftiffs ; but beiides them they have fharp 
 
43 2 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 claws to tear with, which dogs have not. The ftouteft man 
 is hardly equal to them in Itrength; but what is worfe, they 
 often come in troops, and whole villages have been attacked 
 by them ; they have five, fix, and more whelps at a litter, 
 and would loon over-run a country where they breed, if 
 men did not combine againft, and make it their bufinefs to 
 deitroy them. Wild boars likewife, are terrible creatures, 
 that few large forefts, aud uninhabited places, in temperate 
 climates, are free from. 
 
 Hor. Thofe tufks of theirs are dreadful weapons. 
 
 Geo. And they are much fuperior to wolves in bulk and 
 ftrength. Hifiory is full of the mifchief they have done in 
 ancient times, and of the renown that valiant men have 
 gained by conquering them. 
 
 Hor. That is true ; but thofe heroes that fought monfters 
 in former days, were well armed ; at leaft, the generality of 
 them ; but what could a number of naked men. before they 
 had any arms at all, have to oppofe to the teeth and claws 
 of ravenous wolves that came in troops ; and what impref- 
 fion could the greateft blow a man can iinke, make upon 
 the thick brirtly hide of a wild boar ? 
 
 Geo. As on the one hand, I have named every thing that 
 man has to fear from wild beaits ; fo, on the other, we ought 
 not to forget the things that are in his favour. In the nrii 
 place, a wild man inured to hardfhip, would far exceed a 
 tame one, in all feats of ftrength, nimblenefs and activity ; 
 in the fecond, his anger would fooner and more uiefully 
 tranfport and aiiift him in his favage (late, than it can do in 
 fociety ; where, from his infancy he is fo many ways taught, 
 and forced in his own defence, to cramp and ftirle with his 
 fears the nobie gift of nature. In wild creatures we fee, that 
 mod of them, when their own life or that of their young 
 ones is at ftake, fight with great obftinacy, and continue 
 fighting to the laft, and do what mifchief they can, whilit 
 they have breath, without regard to their being overmatch- 
 ed, or the difadvantages they labour under. It is obferved, 
 likewife, that the more untaught and inconiiderate creatures I 
 are, the more entirely they are iwayed by the paffion that is 
 uppermoit : natural affection would make wild men and wo- f 
 men too, facririce their lives, and die for their children ; but 
 they would die fighting ; and one wolf would not find it an 
 eafy matter to carry of a child from his watchful parents, if j 
 they were both refolute, though they were naked. As to I 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 433 
 
 man's being born defenceiefs, it is not to be conceived, that 
 he fhould long know the drength of his arms, without being 
 acquainted with the articulation of his fingers, or at lean:, 
 what is owing to it, his faculty of grafping and holding fail ; 
 and the mod untaught favage would make ufe of clubs and 
 Haves before he came to maturity. As the danger men are 
 in from wild beads would be of the higher!; confequence, fo 
 it would employ their utmod care and indudry : they would 
 dig holes, and invent other ftratagems, to didrefs their ene- 
 mies, and deilroy their young ones : as foon as they found 
 out fire, they would make ufe of that element to guard them- 
 felves and annoy their foes : by the help of it they would 
 foon learn to fharpen wood, which prefently would put them 
 upon making fpears and other weapons that would cut. 
 When men are angry enough with creatures to drike them, 
 and thefe are running away, or flying from them, they are 
 apt to throw at what they cannot reach: this, as foon as they 
 had fpears, would naturally lead them to the invention of 
 darts and javelins. Here, perhaps, they may flop a while \ 
 but the fame chain of thinking would, in time, produce bows 
 and arrows : the elallicity of fticks and boughs of trees is 
 very obvious ; and to make firings of the guts of animals, I 
 dare fay, is more ancient than the ufe of hemp. Experience 
 teaches us, that men may have all thefe, and many more 
 weapons, and be very expert in the ufe of them, before any 
 manner of government, except that of parents over their 
 children, is to be feen among them : it is likewife very well 
 known, that favages furnifhed with no better arms, when 
 they are flrong enough in number, will venture to attack, 
 and even hunt after the fierced wild beads, lions and tigers 
 not excepted. Another thing is to be coniidered, that like~ 
 wife favours our fpecies, and relates to the nature of the crea- 
 tures, of which intemperate climates man has reafon to ftand 
 in bodily fear of. 
 
 Hor. Wolves and wild boars ? 
 
 Cleo. Yes. That great numbers of our fpecies have been 
 devoured by the firft, is unconteded ; but they mod natural- 
 ly go in qued of fheep and poultry; and, as long as they can 
 get carrion, or any thing to fill their bellies with, they feldom 
 hunt after men, or other large animals ; which is the reafon, 
 that in the fummer our fpecies, as to perlbnal infults, have 
 not much to fear from them. JLt is certain likewife, that fa- 
 Vage fwine will hunt after men, and many of their ajiaws 
 
 F f 
 
434 THE ^FTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 have been crammed with human flefli : but they naturally 
 feed on acorns, chefnuts, beach- mail, and other vegetables ; 
 and they are only carnivorous upon occalion, and through 
 necefhty, when they can get nothing eife ; in great froits, 
 when the country is bare, and every thing covered with 
 fnow. It is evident, then, that human creatures are not in 
 any great and immediate danger from either of theie fpecies 
 of beads, but in hard winters, which happen but feldom in 
 temperate climates. But as they are our perpetual enemies, 
 by fpoiling and devouring every thing that may ferve for the 
 fuftenance of man, it is highly neceiiary, that we ihould not 
 only be always upon our guard againit them, but hkevvife 
 never ceafe to affift one another in routing and deitroying 
 them. 
 
 Hor. I plainly fee, that mankind might fubfift and furvive 
 to multiply, and get the mattery overall other creatures that 
 ihould oppofe them ; and as this could never have been 
 brought about, unlets men had affifted one another againit 
 lavage beafts, it is poffible that the necefhty men were in of 
 joining and uniting together, was the firft ilep toward foci- 
 ety. Thus far I am willing to allow you to have proved 
 your main point: but to afcribe all this to Providence, 
 otherwife than that nothing is done without the Divine per- 
 miffion, feems inconiiftent with the ideas we have of a per- 
 fectly good and merciful Being. It is poffible, that all poi- 
 ibnous animals may have foinething in them that is benefi- 
 cial to men ; and i will not difpute with you, whether the 
 mod venomous of all the ferpents which Lucan has made 
 mention of, did not contain fome antidote, or other fine me- 
 dicine, (till undiicovered : but when I look upon the valt va- 
 riety of ravenous and blood-thirfty creatures, that are not 
 only fuperior to us in ftrength, but likewife vifibly armed by 
 nature, as it were on purpofe for our deftruclion ; when, I 
 fay, I look upon theie, I can find out no ufe for them, nor 
 at they could be deiigned for, unlefs it be to punifh us: 
 but I can much lefs conceive, that the Divine Wifdom ihould 
 have made them the means without which men could not 
 have been civilized. How many thoufands of our fpecies 
 muft have been devoured in the conflicts with them ! 
 
 do. Ten troops of wolves, with fifty in each, would make 
 a terrible havoc, in a long winter, among a million of our fpe- 
 cies with their hands tied behind them; but among half thai 
 number, one pciliience has been known to llaughter more,. 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE', 435 
 
 than fo many wolves could have eaten in the fame time ; not- 
 withilanding the great refinance that was made againft it, by 
 approved of medicines and able phyficians. It is owing to 
 the principle of pride we are born with, and the high value 
 we all, for the fake of one, have for our fpecies, that men 
 imagine the whole univerfe to be principally made for their 
 ufe ; and this error makes them commit a thoufand extrava- 
 gancies, and have pitiful and moil unworthy notions of God 
 and his works. It is not greater cruelty, or more unnatural, 
 in a wolf to eat a piece of a man, than it is in a man to eat part 
 of a lamb or a chicken. What, or how many purpoles wild 
 beads were made for, is not for us to determine ; but that 
 they were made, we know ; and that fome of them mull 
 have been very calamitious to every infant nation, and fet- 
 tlement of men, is almolt as certain : this you was fully per- 
 fuaded of; and thought, moreover, that they muft have been 
 fuch an obilacle to the very fubriilence of our fpecies, as was 
 infurmountable : In anfvver to this difficulty, which you flart- 
 ed, I mowed you, from the different inflmcls- and peculiar 
 tendencies of animals, that in nature a manifefl provifion was 
 made for our fpecies : by which, notwithflandmg the rage 
 and power of the fiercefl beads, we mould make a fhift, naked 
 and" defencelefs, to efcape their fury, fo as to be able to main- 
 tain ourfelves and multiply our kind, till by our numbers, 
 and arms acquired by our own induflry, we could put to 
 flight, or dellroy all favage beaits without exception, what- 
 ever fpot of the globe we might have a mind to cultivate and 
 fettle on. The neceffary bleffings we receive from the fun, 
 are obvious to a child ; and it is demonflrable, that without 
 it, none of the living creatures that are now upon the earth, 
 could fubfifl. But if it were of no other ufe, being eight hun- 
 dred thoufand times bigger than the earth at lead, one 
 thoufandth part of it would do our bufinefs as well, if it was 
 but nearer to us in proportion. From this confideration 
 alone, I am perfuaded, that the fun was made to enlighten 
 and cheriflr other bodies, befides this planet of ours. Fire 
 and water were dehgned for innumerable purpofes ; and 
 among the ufes that are made of them, fome are immenfely 
 different from others. But whilfl we receive the benefit of 
 thefe, and are only intent on ourfelves, it his highly probable, 
 that there are thoufands of things, and perhaps our own ma- 
 chines among them, that, in the vail fyflem of the univerfe ? 
 
43 6 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 are now ferving fome very wife ends, which we fhall never 
 know. According to that plan of this globe, I mean the 
 fcheme of government, in relation to the living creatures that 
 inhabit the earth, the deitruclion of animals is as necefiary as 
 the generation of them. 
 
 Hor. I have learned that from the Fable of the Bees ; and 
 I believe what I have read there to be very true ; that, if any 
 one fpecies was to be exempt from death, it would in time 
 crufh all the reft to pieces, though the firfl were fheep, and 
 the latter all lions : but that the Supreme Being mould have 
 introduced ociety at the expence of fo many lives of our fpe- 
 cies, I cannot believe, when it might have been done much 
 better in a milder way. 
 
 Cleo. We are fpeaking of what probably was done, and 
 not of what might have been done. There is no queftion, 
 but the fame Power that made whales, might have made us 
 feventy feet high, and given us ftrengthin proportion. But 
 fince the plan of this globe requires, and you think it necef- 
 fary yourfeif, that in every fpecies fome fhould die almoft as 
 fail as odiers are born, why fhould you take away any of the 
 means of dying ? 
 
 Hor. Are there not difeafes enough, phyficians and apo- 
 thecaries, as well as wars by fea and land, that may take off 
 more than the redundancy of our fpecies ? 
 
 Cleo. They may, it is true ; but in fadl they are not al- 
 ways fufficient to do this: and in populous nations we fee, 
 that war, wild beads, hanging, drowning, and an hunded ca- 
 fualties together, with ficknefs and all ats attendants, are 
 hardiy a match for one invisible faculty of ours, which is the 
 inftihcl; men have to preferve their fpecies. Every thing is 
 eafy to the Deity \ but to fpeak after an human manner, it 
 is evident, that in forming this earth, and every thing that is 
 in it, no lefs wifdom or fohcitude was required, in contriving 
 the various ways and means, to get rid and deftroy animals, 
 than feems to have been employed in producing them ; and 
 it is as demonilrable, that our bodies were made on purpofe 
 not tolafl beyond fuch a period, as it is, that fomehoufes are 
 built with a delign riot to {land longer than fuch a term of 
 years. But it is death itfelf to which oui: avedion by nature 
 is univerfal ; as to the manner of dying, men differ in their 
 opinions \ and I never heard of one yet that was generally 
 liked of. 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 437 
 
 Hor. But nobody choofes a cruel one. What an unfpeak- 
 able and infinitely excruciating torment mud it be, to be 
 torn to pieces, and eat alive by a favage bead! 
 
 Cleo. Not greater, I can allure you, than are daily occa- 
 fioned by the gout in the ftomach, and the (tone in the blad- 
 der. 
 
 Hor. Which way can you give me this afTurance ; how 
 can you prove it? 
 
 Cleo. From our fabric itfelf, the frame of human bodies, 
 that cannot admit of any torment, infinitely excruciating. 
 The degrees of pain, as well as of pleafure, in this life are li- 
 mited, and exactly proportioned to every one's ftrength ; 
 whatever exceeds that, takes away the fenfes ; and whoever 
 has once fainted away with the extremity of any torture, 
 knows the fall extent of what here he can faffer, if he re- 
 members what he felt. The real mifchief which wild beads 
 have done to our fpecies, and the calamities they have 
 brought upon it, are not to be compared to the cruel ufage, 
 and the multiplicity of mortal injuries which men have re- 
 ceived from one another. Set before your eyes a robuft 
 warrior, that having loft a limb in battle, is afterwards 
 trampled upon by twenty horfes ; and tell me, pray, whe- 
 ther you think, that lying thus helplefs with molt of his ribs 
 broke, and a fractured fkull, in the agony of death, for feve- 
 ral hours, he furTers lefs than if a lion had difpatched him ? 
 
 Hor. They are both very bad. 
 
 Cleo. In the choice of things we are more often directed 
 by the caprice of fafhions, and the cuftora of the age, than 
 we are by folid reafon, or our own underltanding. There is 
 no greater comfort in dying of a dropfy, and in being eaten 
 by worms, than there is in being drowned at fea, and becom- 
 ing the prey of fillies. But in our narrow 7 way of thinking, 
 there is fomething that fubverts and corrupt our judgment ; 
 how elfe could perfons of known elegancy in their tafte, pre- 
 fer rotting and ftinking in a loathfome fepulchre, to their be- 
 ing burnt in the open air to inofFenfive allies ? 
 
 Hor. I freely own, that I have an averfion to every thing 
 that is mocking and unnatural. 
 
 Cleo. What you call mocking, I do not know ; but no- 
 thing is more common to nature, or more agreeable to her 
 ordinary courfe, than that creatures mould live upon one 
 another. The whole fyftem of animated beings on the earth 
 fee ms to be built upon this; and there is not one fpecies 
 Ff3 
 
43^ THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 that we know of, that has not another that feeds upon it, 
 either alive or dead ; and raoft kind of fifh are forced to live 
 upon fifh. That this in the lair-mentioned, was not an omif- 
 lion or neglect, is evident from the large proviiion nature has 
 made for it, far exceeding any thing fhe has done for other 
 animals. 
 
 Hor. You mean the prodigious quantity of roe they 
 fpawn. 
 
 Hor. Yes ; and that the eggs contained in them, receive 
 not their fecundity until after they are excluded ; by which 
 means the female may be filled with as many of them as her 
 belly can hold, and the eggs themfelves may be more ciofely 
 crowded together, than would be coniiftent with the admif- 
 fion of any fubftance from the male : without this, one fifh, 
 could not bring forth yearly fuch a prodigious fhoal. 
 
 Hor. But might not the aurafeminalis of the male be fub- 
 tile enough to penetrate the whole clufter of eggs, and influ- 
 ence every one of them, without taking up any room, as it 
 does in fowls and other oviparous animals? 
 
 Cko. The oftrich excepted in the firft place : in the fe- 
 cond, there are no other oviparous animals in which the 
 eggs are fo ciofely compacted together, as they are in fifh. 
 But fuppofe the prolific power mould pervade the whole 
 mafs of them ; if all the eggs which fome of the females are 
 crammed with, were to be impregnated whilfl they are with- 
 in the fifh, it is impoflible but the aura feminalis, the proli- 
 fic fpirit of the male, though it took up no room itfelf, 
 would, as it does in all other creatures, dilate, and more 
 or lefs difiend every egg; and the leafl expaniion of fo ma- 
 ny individuals would fwell the whole roe to a bulk that 
 would require a much greater fpace, than the cavity that 
 now contains them. Is not here a contrivance beyond ima- 
 gination fine, to provide for the continuance of a fpecies, 
 though every individual of it fhould be born with an in- 
 ftincl to deftroy it ! 
 
 Hor. What you fpeak of, is only true at fea, in a confider- 
 able part of Europe at lead: : for in frefli water, moil kinds 
 of fifh do not feed on their own fpecies, and yet they fpawn 
 in the fame manner, and are as full of roe as all the reft : 
 among them, the only great deitroyer with us, is the pike. 
 
 Cko. And he is a very ravenous one : We fee in ponds, 
 that where pikes are fuffered to be, no other fifh ihall ever 
 increafe in number. But in rivers, and all waters near any i 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 439 
 
 land, there are amphibious fowls, and many forts of them, 
 that live moflly upon fifh : Of thefe water-fowls in many 
 places are prodigious quantities. Beiides thefe, there are 
 otters, beavers, and many other creatures that live upon fifh. 
 In brooks and (hallow waters, the hearn and bittern will 
 have their ihare : What is taken off by them, perhaps is but 
 little; but the young fry, and the fpawn that one pair oi 
 fwans are able to confume in one year, would very well 
 ferve to flock a confiderable river. So they are but eat, it 
 is no matter what eats them, either their own fpecies or ano- 
 ther : What I would prove., is, that nature produces no ex- 
 traordinary numbers of any fpecies, but fhe has contrived 
 means anfwerable to deftroy them. The variety of infects 
 in the feveral parts of the world, would be incredible to any 
 one that has not examined into this matter ; and the differ- 
 ent beauties to be obferved in them is infinite : But neither 
 the beauty, nor the variety of them, are more furprifing, 
 than the induflry of nature in the multiplicity of her contri- 
 vances to kill them ; and if the care and vigilance of all 
 other animals in deftroy ing them were to ceafe at once, in 
 two years time the greatefl part of the earth, which is ours 
 now, would be theirs, and in many countries infects would 
 be the only inhabitants. 
 
 Hor. I have heard that whales live upon nothing elfe ; 
 that muft make a fine confumption. 
 
 Cleo. That is the general opinion, I fuppofe, becaufe they 
 never find any fifh in them ; and becaufe there are vail 
 multitudes of infects in thofe feas, hovering on the furface of 
 the water. This creature likewife helps to corroborate my 
 affertion, that in the numbers produced of every fpecies, the 
 greatefl regard is had to the confumption of them : This 
 prodigious animal being too big to be fallowed, nature in 
 it has quite altered the economy obferved in all other fifh ; 
 for they are viviparous, engender like other viviparous ani- 
 mals, and have never above two or three young ones at a 
 time. For the continuance of every fpecies among fuch an 
 infinite variety of creatures as this globe yields, it was highly 
 neceffary, that the provifion for their cteuruction fhould not 
 be lefs ample, than that which was made for the generation 
 of them ; and therefore the folicitude of nature in procuring 
 death, and the confumption of animals, is viiibly fuperior to 
 the care fhe takes to feed and preferve them. 
 
 Hor, Prove that pray, 
 
 Ff 4 
 
440 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Geo. Millions of her creatures are ftarved every year, and 
 doomed to perifh for want of fufienance ; but whenever any 
 die, there is always plenty of mouths to devour them. But 
 then, again, fhe gives all fhe has : nothing is fo fine or elabo- 
 rate, as that fhe grudges it for food ; nor is any thing more 
 exteniive or impartial than her bounty : fhe thinks nothing 
 too good for the meaneft of her broods, and all creatures are 
 equally welcome to every thing they can find to eat. How 
 curious is the workmanfhip in the ftruclure of a common fly ; 
 how inimitable are the celerity of his wings, and the quick- 
 aefs of all his motions in hot weather ! Should a Pythagore- 
 an, that was likewife a good mafler in mechanics, by the 
 help of a microfcope, pry into every minute part of this 
 changeable creature, and duly confider the elegancy of its 
 machinery, would he not think it great pity, that thoufands 
 of millions of animated beings, fo nicely wrought and ad- 
 mirably finifhed, mould every day be devoured by little birds 
 and fpiders, of which we ftand in fo little need ? Nay, do not 
 you think yourfelf, that things would have been managed 
 full as well, if the quantity of flies had been lefs, and there 
 had been no fpiders at all ? 
 
 Hor. I remember the fable of the Acorn and the Pumkin 
 too well to anfwer you ; I do not trouble my head about it. 
 
 C/eo. Yet you found fault with the means, which 1 fup- 
 pofed Providence had made ufe of to make men afTociate ; I 
 mean the common danger they were in from wild beafts : 
 though you owned the probability of its having been the firft 
 motive of their uniting. 
 
 Hor. I cannot believe that Providence fhould have no 
 greater regard 'to our fpecies, than it has to flies, and the 
 fpawn of fjfh : or that nature has ever fported with the fate 
 of human creatures, as ihe does with the lives of infects, and 
 been as wantonly lavifh of the firit, as ihe feems to be of the 
 latter. I wonder how you can reconcile this to religion ; 
 you that are fuch a ftickler for Chriftianity. 
 
 Cleo. Religion has nothing to do with it. But we are fo 
 full of our own fpecies, and the excellency of it, that we have 
 no leifure ferioufly to coniider the fyftem of this earth; I 
 mean the plan on which the economy of it is built, in rela- 
 tion to the living creatures that are in and upon it. 
 
 Hor. I do not ipeak as to our fpecies, but in refpect to the 
 Deity : has religion nothing to do with it, that you make 
 God the author of fo much cruelty and malice ? 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 44I 
 
 Cleo. It is Impoffible, you ihould fpeak otherwife, than in 
 relation to our fpecies, when you make ufe of thofe exprdt 
 lions, which can, only lignify to us the intentions things were 
 done with, or the fentiments human creatures have of them; 
 and nothing can be called cruel or malicious in regard to 
 him who did it, unlefs his thoughts and deiigns were fuch in 
 doing it. All actions in nature, abifractly conlidered, are 
 equally indifferent ; and whatever it may be to individual 
 creatures, to die is not a greater evil to this earth, or the whole 
 univerfe, than it is to be born. 
 
 Hor. This is making the Firil Caufe of things not an in- 
 telligent being. 
 
 Cleo, Why To ? Can you not conceive an intelligent, and 
 even a moil wife being, that is not only exempt from, but 
 like wife incapable of entertaining any malice or cruelty? 
 
 Hor. Such a being could not commit, or order things that 
 are malicious and cruel. 
 
 Cko. Neither does God. But this will carry us into a dif- 
 pute about the origin of evil ; and from thence we muft in- 
 evitably fall on free-will and predeftination, which, as I have 
 told you before, is an inexplicable myftery I will never med- 
 dle with. But I never faid nor thought any thing irreverent 
 to the Deity, on the contrary, the idea I have of the Su- 
 preme Being, is as tranfcendently great, as my capacity is 
 able to form one, of what is incomprehenfible ; and 1 could 
 as foon believe, that he could ceafe to exift, as that he 
 Ihould be the author of any real evil. But I ihould be glad 
 to hear the method, after which you think fociety might have 
 been much better introduced : Pray, acquaint me with that 
 milder way you fpoke of. 
 
 Hor. You have thoroughly convinced me, that the natu- 
 ral love which it is pretended we have for our fpecies, is not 
 greater than what many other animals have for theirs : but 
 if nature had actually given us an affection for one another, 
 as fincere and confpicuous as that which parents are feento 
 have for their children, whilft they are helplefs, men would 
 have joined together by choice ; and nothing could have 
 hindred them from afTocia ting, whether their numbers had 
 been great or fmall, and themfelves either ignorant or know- 
 ing- 
 
 Cleo. mentes hominum cczcas I PeElora caca I 
 
 Hor. You may exclaim as much as you pleafe ; I am per- 
 fuaded that this would have united men in firmer bonds of 
 
442 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE* 
 
 friendfnip, than any common clanger from wild beafts could 
 have tied them with: but what fault can you find with it, 
 and what mifchief could have befallen us from mutual affec- 
 tion ? 
 
 Cleo. It would have been inconfiftent with the fcheme, 
 the plan after which, it is evident, Providence has been 
 pleafed to order and difpofe of things in the univerfe. If 
 fuch an affection had been planted in man by mftincl:, there 
 never could have been any fatal quarrels among them, nor 
 mortal hatreds; men could never have been cruel to one ano- 
 ther : in fhort, there could have been no wars of any dura- 
 tion ; and no conrlderable numbers of our fpecies could ever 
 have been killed by one another's malice. 
 
 Hor. You would make a rare ftate-phyfician, in prefcrib- 
 ing war, cruelty and malice, for the welfare and maintenance 
 of civil fociety. 
 
 Cleo. Pray, do not mifreprefent me : I have done no fuch 
 thing: but if you believe the world is governed by provi- 
 dence at all, you mud believe likewife, that the Deity makes 
 ufe of means to bring about, perform, and execute his will 
 and pleafure : As for example, to have war kindled, there 
 muft be rlrft mifunderitandings and quarrels between the fub- 
 jects of different nations, and dhTentions among the refpec- 
 tive princes, rulers, or governors of them : it is evident, that 
 the mind of man is the general mint where the means of 
 this fort mufl be coined ; from whence I conclude, that if 
 Providence had ordered matters after that mild way, which 
 you think would have been the heft, very little of human 
 blood could have been fpilt, if any at all. 
 
 Hor. Where would have been the inconveniency of that? 
 
 Cleo. You could not have had that variety of living crea- 
 tures, there is now ; nay, there would not have been room 
 for man himfelf, and his failenance : our fpecies alone would 
 have overftocked the earth, if there had been no wars, and 
 the commmon courie of providence had not been more in- 
 terrupted than it has been. Might 1 not juftly fay then, 
 that this is quite contrary and deitructive to the fcheme on 
 which it is plain this earth was built ? This is a confideration 
 which you will never give its due weight. I have once al- 
 ready put you in mind of it, that you yourfelf have allowed 
 the deilrudion of animals to be as neceffary as the genera- 
 tion of them. There is as much wifdom to be feen in the 
 contrivances how numbers of living creatures might always 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 443 
 
 betaken off and deftroyed, to make room for thofe that 
 continually fucceed them, as there is in making all the dif- 
 ferent forts of them, every one preferve their own fpecies. 
 What do you think is the reafon, that there is but one way 
 for us to come into the world ? 
 
 Hor. Becaufe that one is fufficient. 
 
 CI'jo. Then from a parity of reafon, we ought to think, 
 that there are feveral ways to go out of the world, becaufe 
 one would not have been fufficient. Now, if for the fupport 
 and maintenance of that variety of creatures which are here 
 that they mould die, is a pqftulatum as necelTary as it is, that 
 they mould be born ; and you cut oft" or obftruct the means 
 of dying, and actually ftop up one of the great gates, through 
 which w 7 e fee multitudes go to death ; do you not oppofe 
 the fcheme, nay, do you mar it leis, than if you hindered ge- 
 neration ! If there never had been war, and no other means 
 of dying, befides the ordinary ones, this globe could not 
 have born, or at leaft not maintained, the tenth part of the 
 people that would have been in it. Ey war, I do not mean 
 only fuch as one nation has had againft another, but civil as 
 Well as foreign quarrels, general maffacres, private murders, 
 poifon, fword, and all hoftile force, by which men, not with- 
 Handing their pretence of love to their fpecies, have endea- 
 voured to take away ong another's lives throughout the 
 world, from the time that Cain flew Abel to this day. 
 
 Hor. I do not believe, that a quarter of all thefe mifchiefs 
 are upon record : but what may be known from hiftory, 
 would make a prodigious number of men : much greater, I 
 dare fay, than ever was on earth at one time : But what 
 would you infer from this ? They would not have been im- 
 mortal ; and if they had not died in w r ar, they mull foon 
 after have been (lain by difeafes. When a man of threefcore 
 is killed by a bullet in the field, it is odds, that he would not 
 have lived four years longer, though he had flayed at home. 
 
 Cleo. There are foldiers of threefcore perhaps in all armies, 
 but men generally go to the war when they are young; and 
 when four or five thoufand are loft in battle, you will find 
 the greateft number to have been under five- and- thirty : 
 confider now, that many men do not marry till after that 
 age, who get ten or a dozen children. 
 
 Hor. If all that die by the hands of another, were to get a 
 dozen children before they die-— — 
 
444 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. There is no occalion for that ; I fuppofe nothing, 
 that is either extravagant or improbable ; but that all fuch, 
 as have been wilfully deftroyed by means of their fpecies, 
 ihould have lived, and taken their chance with the reft ; that 
 every thing mould have befallen them, that has befallen 
 thofe that have not been killed that way ; and the fame like- 
 wife to their pofterity ; and that all of them mould have been 
 fubjed: to all the cafualties as well as difeafes, dodtors, apo- 
 thecaries, and other accidents, that take away man's life, and 
 fhorten his days ; war, and violence from one another, only 
 excepted. * 
 
 Hor But if the earth had been too full of inhabitants, 
 might not Providence have fent peftilences and difeafes 
 oftener? More children might have died when they were 
 young, or more women might have proved barren. 
 
 Cleo. I do not know whether your mild way would have 
 been more generally pleafing ; but you entertain notions of 
 the Peity that are unworthy of him. Men might certainly 
 have been born with the inftincT: you fpeak of ; but if this 
 had been the Creator's pleafure, there muit have been ano- 
 ther economy ; and things on earth, from the beginning, 
 .would have been ordered in a manner quite different from 
 what they are now. But to make a fcheme firft, and after- 
 wards to mend it, when it proves defective, is the bufinefs of 
 finite wifdom ; it belongs to human prudence alone to mend 
 faults, to correct and redrefs- what was done amifs before, 
 and to alter the meafures which experience teaches men, 
 were ill concerted : but the knowledge of God was confum- 
 mate from eternity. Infinite Wifdom is not liable to errors 
 or mittakes ; therefore all his works are univerfally good, 
 and every thing is made exactly as he would have it : the 
 firmnefs and liability of his laws and councils are everlafting, 
 and therefore his reiblutions are as unalterable, as his decrees 
 are eternal. It is not a quarter of an hour ago, that you 
 named wars among the neceifary means to carry off the re- 
 dundancy of our fpecies ; how come you now to think them 
 ufelefs ? I can demonftrate to you, that nature, in the pro- 
 duction of our fpecies, has amply provided againft the lolTes, 
 of our fex, occalioned by wars, by repairing them vifibly, 
 w T here they are fultained, in as palpable a manner, as fhe has 
 provided for the great deftruclion that is made of fifh, by 
 their devouring one another. 
 
 Hor. How is that, pray ? 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 445 
 
 Cleo. By fending more males into the world than females. 
 You will eafily allow me that our fex bears the brunt of all 
 the toils and hazards that are undergone by fea and land ; 
 and that by this means a far greater number of men mult be 
 deftroyed than there is of women : now if we fee, as certainly 
 we do, that of the infants yearly born, the number of males 
 is always considerably fuperior to that of the females, is it 
 not manifeft, that nature has made a pro virion for great 
 multitudes, which, if they were notv deftroyed, would be 
 not only fupernuous, but of pernicious confequence in great 
 nations ? 
 
 Hon That fuperiority in the number of males born is 
 wonderful indeed ; I remember the account that has been 
 publimed concerning it, as it was taken from the bills of 
 births and burials in the city and iuburbs. 
 
 Cleo. For fourfcore years ; in which the number of females 
 born was conftantly much inferior to that of the males, 
 fometimes by many hundreds : and that this provifion of na- 
 ture, to fupply the havoc that is made of men by wars and 
 navigation, is dill greater than could be imagined from that 
 difference only, will foon appear, if we confider that women, 
 in the firft place, are liable to all difeafes, within a trine, 
 that are incident to men ; and that, in the fecond, they are 
 fubjecl: to many diforders and calamities on account of their 
 fex, which great numbers die of, and which men are wholly 
 exempt from. 
 
 Hor. This could not well be the effect of chance ; but it 
 fpoils the confequence which you drew from my affectionate 
 fcheme, in cafe there had been no wars : for your fear that 
 •ourfpecies would have increased beyond all bounds, was en- 
 tirely built upon the fuppoiition, that thofe who have died 
 in war mould not have warned women if they had lived; 
 which, from this fuperiority in the number of males, it is e- 
 vident, they mould ana mull have wanted 
 
 Cleo, What you coferve is true ; but my chief aim was to 
 ihow you how diiagreeable the alteration you required would 
 have been every way to the reft of the fcheme, by which it is 
 manifeft things are governed at prefent. For, if the provi- 
 fion had been made on the other fide ; and natme, in the 
 production of our ipecies, had continually taken care to re- 
 pair thelofs of women that die of calamities not incident to 
 men, then certainly there would have been women for all 
 the men that have been deftroyed by their own fpecies, if 
 
446 THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 they had lived ; and the earth without war, as I have faid, 
 would have been over-flocked ; or, if nature had ever 
 "been the fame as flie is now, that is, if more males had been 
 born than females, and more females had died of difeafes 
 than males, the world would conftantly have had a great fu- 
 perfluity of men, if there never had been any wars ; and 
 this difproportion between their number and that of the 
 women would have caufed innumerable mifchiefs, that are 
 now prevented by no other natural caufes, than the fmall 
 value men fet upon their fpecies, and their difTentions with 
 one another. 
 
 Hor. I can fee no other mifchief this would produce, than 
 than that the number of males which die without having 
 ever tried matrimony, would be greater than it is now ; and 
 whether that would be a real evil or not, is a very difputable 
 point. 
 
 Cleo. Do not you think, that this perpetual fcarcity of 
 women, and fuperfluity of men, would make great uneaiinefs 
 in all focieties, how well foever people might love one an- 
 other ; and that the value, the price of women, vyould be 
 fo enhanced by it, that none but men in tolerable good cir- 
 cumftances would be able to purchafe them ? This alone 
 would make us another world ; and mankind could never 
 have known that moil neceilary and now inexhuaftible fpring, 
 from which all nations, where Haves are not allowed of, are 
 conftantly fupplied with willing hands for all the drudgery 
 of hard and dirty labour: I mean the children of the poor, 
 the greateft and moft extensive of all temporal bleffings that 
 accrue from fociety, on which all the comforts of life, in the 
 civilized ftate, have their unavoidable dependance. There 
 are many other things, from which it is plain, that fuch a 
 real love of man for his fpecies would have been altogether 
 inconfiftent with the prefent fcheme ; the world mult have 
 been deftitute of all that induftry, that is owing to envy and 
 emulation ; no fociety could have been eafy with being a 
 ftourifhing people at the expence of their neighbours, or 
 enduring to be counted a formidable nation. All men 
 would have been levellers ; government would have been un- 
 neceflary ; and there could have been no great buftle in the 
 world. Look into the men of greateft renown, and the moft 
 celebrated atchievements of antiquity, and every thing that 
 has been cried up and admired in paft ages by the faihion- 
 able part of mankind : if the fame labours were to be per- 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 447 
 
 formed over again, which qualification, which help of nature 
 do you think would be the mofl proper means to have them 
 executed ; that inftinct. of real affection you required, without 
 ambition or the love of glory 5 or a ltaunch principle of pride 
 and felfimnefs. acting under pretence to, and aifuming the 
 refemblance of that affection ? Confider, I befeech you, that 
 no men governed by this inftinct would require fervices of 
 any of their {pedes, which they would not be ready to per- 
 form for others ; and you will eafily fee, that its being uni- 
 verial would quite alter the fcene of fociety from what it is 
 now. Such an inftinct: might be very fuitable to another 
 fcheme different from this, in another world ; where, iir- 
 ftead of rlckelneis, and a reftiefs defire after changes and 
 novelty, there was obferved an univerial fteadinefs, con- 
 tinually preferved by a 'ferene fpirit of contentment a- 
 mong other creatures of different appetites from ours, 
 that had frugality without avarice, and generofity without 
 pride ; and whofe folicitude after happinefs in a future ftate, 
 was as active and apparent in life as our purfuits are after 
 the enjoyments of this prefent. But, as to the world we 
 live in, examine into the various ways of earthly greatnefs, 
 and all the engines that are made ufe of to attain to the feli- 
 city of carnal men, and you will find, that the inftinct you 
 fpeak of muft have deftroyed the principles, and prevented 
 the very existence of that pomp and glory to which human 
 focieties have been, and are itill raifed by worldly wifdom. 
 
 Hor. I give up my affectionate fcheme ; you have con- 
 , vinced me that there could not have been that rtir and va- 
 riety, nor, upon the whole, that beauty in the world, which 
 there have been, if all men had been naturally humble, 
 good, and virtuous. I believe that wars of all forts, as well 
 as difeafes, are natural means to hinder mankind from in- 
 creafing too fart ; but that wild beafts, mould likewife have 
 been deagned to thin our fpeeies, I cannot conceive • for 
 they can only ferve this end, when men are but few, and 
 their numbers fhould be increafed, inltead of leffened; and 
 afterwards, if they were made for that purpofe, when men 
 are ftrong enough, they would not anfwer it. 
 
 Cleo. I never faid that wild beafts was defigned to thin our 
 fpeeies. I have mowed that many things were made to 
 ferve a variety of different purpofes ; that in the fcheme of 
 this earth, many things muft have been confidered that man 
 has nothing to do with \ and that it is ridiculous to think that 
 
 6 
 
44^ I TH E FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 the nniveiTe was made for our fake. I have faid likewife, 
 that as all our knowledge comes, a pofieriori, it is imprudent 
 to reafon other wife than from facts. That there are wild 
 beafts, and that there are favage men, is certain ; and that 
 where there are but few of the latter, the firft mult always 
 be very troublefome, and often fatal to them, is as certain ; 
 and when I reflect on the paffions all men are born with, and 
 their incapacity whilft they are untaught, I can find no 
 caufe or motive which is fo likely to unite them together, 
 and make them efpoufe the fame intereft, as that common 
 danger they mud a] ways be in from wild beafts, in unculti- 
 vated countries, whilft they live in fmall families that all 
 fhift for themfelves, without government or dependance 
 upon one another : This firft ftep to fociety, I believe to be 
 an effect, which that fame caufe, the common danger fo 
 often mentioned, will never fail to produce upon our fpecies 
 in fuch circumftances : what other, and how many purpofes 
 wild beafts might have been defigned for b elides, I do not 
 pretend to determine, as I have told you before. 
 
 Hor. But whatever other purpofes wild beafts were defign- 
 ed for, it. ftill follows from your opinion, that the uniting of 
 favages in common defence, muft have been one ; which to 
 me feems clafhing with our idea of the Divine Goodnefs. 
 
 Cleo. So will every thing feem to do, which we call natu*- 
 ral evil ; if you afcribe human paffions to the Deity, and 
 meafure Infinite Wifdom by the ftandard of our molt mallow 
 capacity ; you have been at this twice already ; I thought I 
 had anfwered it. I would not make God the author of evil, 
 any more than yourfelf ; but I am Iikewife perfuaded, that 
 nothing could come by chance, in refpect to the Supreme 
 Being ; and, therefore, unlefs you imagine the world not to 
 be governed by Providence, you muft believe that wars, 
 and all the calamities we can fuffer from man or beaft, as 
 well as plagues and all other difeafes, are under a wife direc- 
 tion that is unfathomable. As there can be no effect with- 
 out a caufe, fo nothing can be faid to happen by chance, 
 but in refpect to him who is ignorant of the caufe of it. I 
 can make this evident to you, in an obvious and familiar 
 example. To a man who knows nothing of the tennis-court* 
 the fkips and rebounds of the ball feems to be all fortuitous; 
 as he is notable to guefs at the feveral different directions it 
 will receive before it comes to the ground ; fo, as foon as 
 it has hit the place to which it was plainly directed at firft, it 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 449 
 
 is chance to him" where it will fall : whereas, the experienced 
 player, knowing perfectly well the journey the ball will 
 make, goes directly to the place, if he is not there already, 
 where it will certainly come within his reach. Nothing 
 feems to be more the effect of chance than a caff of the dice: 
 yet they obey the laws of gravity and motion in general, as 
 much as any thing elfe ; and from the impreffions that are 
 given them, it is impoffible they fhould fall otherwife than 
 they do : but the various directions which they (hall receive 
 in the whole courfe of the throw being entirely unknown, 
 and the rapidity with which they change their fituation be- 
 ing fuch, that our flow apprehenfion cannot trace them, 
 what the caft will be is a myftery to human understanding, 
 at fair play. But if the fame variety of directions was given 
 to two cubes of ten feet each, which a pair of dice receive, 
 as well from one another as the box, the carter's ringers that 
 cover it, and the table they are flung upon, from the time 
 they are taken up until they lie ftill, the fame effect would 
 follow ; and if the quantity of motion, the force that is im- 
 parted to the box and dice was exactly known, and the 
 motion itfelf was fo much retarded in the performance, that 
 what is done in three or four feconds, mould take up an 
 hour's time, it would be eafy to find out the reafon of every 
 throw, and men might learn with certainty to foretell which 
 fide of the cube would be uppermoit. It is evident, then, that 
 the words fortuitous and carnal, have no other meaning than 
 what depends upon our want of knowledge, forefight, and 
 penetration ; the reflection on which will mow us, by what 
 an infinity of degrees all human capacity falls fhort of that 
 univerfal intuitus, with which the Supreme Being beholds at 
 once every thing without exception, whether to us it be vi- 
 fible or invifible, part, prefent, or to come. 
 
 Hor. I yield : you have folved every difficulty I have been 
 able to raife ; and I muft confefs, that your fuppofition con- 
 cerning the firft motive that would make ravages aflbciate, 
 is neither claming with good fenfe, nor any idea we ought 
 to have of the Divine attributes ; but, on the contrary, in 
 anfwering my objections, \ou have demonitrated the proba- 
 bility of your conjecture, and rendered the wifdorn and power 
 of providence, in the fcheme of this earth, both as to the 
 contrivance and the execution of it, more confpicuous and 
 galpable to me, than any thing I ever heard or read, had 
 done before. 
 
 Gg 
 
45$ THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 v 
 
 Cleo. I am glad you are fatisfied ; though far from arr©- 
 gating to myfelf fo much merit as your civility would com- 
 pliment me with. 
 
 Hbr. It is very clear to me now ; that as it is appointed 
 for all men to die. fo it is neceiTary there mould be means 
 to compafs this end; that from the number of thofe means, 
 or caufes of death, it is impoffible to exclude either the ma- 
 lice of men, or the rage of* wild beads, ■ and all noxious ani- 
 mals ; and that if they had been actually defigned by na- 
 ture, and contrived for that purpofe, we mould have no 
 more reafon jufrly to complain of them, than we have to 
 find fault with death itfelf, or that frightful tram of dif- 
 eafes which are daily and hourly the. manifeft occafion. 
 of it. 
 
 Cleo. They are all equally included in the curfe, which after 
 the fall was defervedly pronounced againft the whole earth ; 
 and if they be real evils, they are to. be looked upon as the 
 confequence of fin, and a condign puniihment, which the 
 tranfgreffion of our furl parents has drawn and entailed upon 
 all their pofterity. I am fully perfuaded, that all the nations 
 in the world, and every individual of our fpecies, civilized 
 or favage, had their origin from Seth, Sham, or Japhet : and 
 as experience has taught us, that the greater!: empires have 
 their periods, and the heft governed dates and kingdoms 
 may come to ruin ; fo it is certain, that the politer! people 
 being fcattered and dittxefled, may foon degenerate, andfome 
 of them by accidents and misfortunes, from knowing and 
 well taught ancestors, be reduced at laft to ravages of the 
 firft and loweil clafs. 
 
 Hot. If what you are fully perfuaded of, be true, the 
 other is felf-evident, from the ravages that are {till fubfuting. 
 
 Cleo, You once feemed to inllnuate, that all the danger 
 men were in from wild bealts, would entirely ceafe as foon 
 as they were civilized, and lived in large and well-ordered 
 focieties ; but by this you may fee, that our fpecies will 
 never be wholly exempt from that danger ; becaufe man- 
 kind will always be liable to be reduced to lavages ; for, as 
 this calamity has actually befallen vait multitudes that were 
 the undoubted descendants of Xoah ; fo the greater! prince 
 upon earth, that has children, cannot be fure, that the fame 
 diiaiter will never happen to any of his pofterity. Wild 
 bearts may be entirely extirpated in fome countries that are 
 duly cultivated; but they will multiply in others that are 'J 
 
THE FIFTH DIALOGUE. 45$ 
 
 wholly neglected ; and great numbers of them range now, 
 and are mailers in many places, where they had been rooted 
 and kept out before. I mall always believe that every fpe- 
 cies of living creatures in and upon this globe, without ex- 
 ception continues to be, as it was at firit, under the care of 
 that fame Providence that thought fit to produce it. Yoii 
 hare had a great deal of patience, but I would not tire it: 
 This firft ftep towards fociety, now we have mattered it, is a 
 gi-ol reiling place, and fo we will leave off for to- day. 
 
 Hor. With all my heart : I have made you talk a great 
 deal ; but I long to hear the red:, as foon as you are at lei- 
 fure. 
 
 Cieo. I am obliged to dine at Windfor to-morrow ; if you 
 are not other wife engaged, I can carry you where the ho- 
 nour of your company will be highly efteemsd : my co^ch 
 fhall be ready at nine ; you know you are in my way. 
 
 Hor. A tine opportunity, indeed, of three or four hours 
 chat. 
 
 Cleo. I mail be all alone without yon. 
 
 Hor. I am your man, and fhall expect you. 
 
 Cleo. Adieu. 
 
 THE SIXTH 
 
 DIALOGUE 
 
 HORATIO Ai\D CLEOMENES 
 
 Hd RATIO. 
 
 IN ow we are off the Hones, pray let us lofe no time ; I ex- 
 pect a great deal of pleafure from what 1 am to hear further. 
 Cleo. The fecond itep to fociety is the danger men are in 
 from one another : fjr which we are beholden to that 
 ftaunch principle of pride and ambition, that all men are 
 bom with, JJirfereni. families may endeavour to live to^ 
 
 G g 2 
 
45 2 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 gather, and be ready to join in common danger ; but they 
 are all of litttle ufe to one another, when there is no com- 
 mon enemy to oppofe. If we conlider that ftrength, agili- 
 ty, and courage would, in fuch a ftate, be the moft valuable 
 qualifications, and that many families could not live long 
 together, but fome, actuated by the principle I named, 
 w r ould ftrive for fuperiority : this mud breed quarrels, in 
 which the moft weak and fearful will, for their own fafety, 
 always join with him of whom they have the beft opinion. 
 
 Hor. This would naturally divide multitudes into bands 
 and companies, that would all have their different leaders, 
 and of which the ftrongeft and moft valiant would always 
 fwallow up the weakeft and moft fearful. 
 
 Cleo. What you fay agrees exactly with the accounts we 
 have of the uncivilized nations that are ftill fubfifting in the 
 world ; and thus men may live miferably many ages. 
 
 Hor. The very firft generation that was brought up under 
 the tuition of parents, would be governable : and would not 
 every fucceeding generation grow wifer than the foregoing? 
 
 Cleo. "Without doubt they would increafe in knowledge 
 and cunning : time and experience would have the fame 
 effect upon them as it has upon others ; and in the particu- 
 lar things to which they applied themfelves, they would be- 
 come as expert and ingenious as the moft civilized nations : 
 but their unruly paffions, and the difcords occafloned by 
 them, would never fuffer them to be happy ; their mutual 
 contentions would be continually fpoiling their improve- 
 ments, defuoying their inventions, and fruftrating their de- 
 figns. 
 
 Hor. But would not their fufferings in time bring them 
 acquainted with the caufes of their difagreement; and would 
 not that knowledge put them upon making of contracts, not 
 to injure one another ? 
 
 Cleo. Very probably they would ; but among fuch ill-bred 
 and uncultivated people, no man would keep a contract 
 longer than that intereft lafted which made him fubmit to 
 it. 
 
 Hor. But might not religion, the fear of an invifible caufe,j 
 be made ferviceable to them, as to the keeping of their con- ; 
 tracts ? 
 
 Cleo. It might, without difpute ; and would, before many-i ; 
 generations paffed away. But religion could do no more; 
 among them, than it does among civilized nations ; where* 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 453 
 
 the Divine vengeance is feldom trufted to only, and oaths 
 themfelves are thought to be of little fervice, where there is no 
 human power to enforce the obligation, and punifh perjury. 
 
 Hor. But do not think, that the fame ambition that made 
 a man afpire to be a leader, would make him likewife de- 
 lirous of being obeyed in civil matters, by the numbers he 
 led? 
 
 Cleo. I do ; and moreover that, notwithftanding this un- 
 fettled and precarious way communities would live in, after 
 three* or four generations, human nature would be looked 
 into, and begin to be underftood : leaders would find out, 
 that the more flrife and difcord there was amongfl the peo- 
 ple they headed, the lefs ufe they could make of them : this 
 would put them upon various ways of curbing mankind ; 
 they would forbid killing and linking one another; the 
 taking away by force the wives or children of others in the 
 fame community ; they would invent penalties, and very 
 early find out that nobody ought to be a judge in his own 
 caufe ; and that old men, generally fpeaking, knew more 
 than young. 
 
 Hur. When once they have prohibitions and penalties, I 
 fhould think all the difficulty furmounted ; and I wonder 
 why you faid, that thus they might live miferably for many 
 ages. 
 
 Cleo. There is one thing of great moment, which has not 
 been named yet ; and until that comes to pafs, no consider- 
 able numbers can ever be made happy ; what fignify the 
 ftrongeft contracts when we have nothing to Ihowfor them ; 
 and what dependence can we have upon oral tradition, in 
 matters that require exactnefs ; efpecially whiift the lan- 
 guage that is fpoken is yet very imperfect? Verbal reports are 
 liable to a thoufand cavils and difputes that are prevented by 
 records, which every body knows to be unerring witneffes ; 
 and from the many attempts that are made to wrefl and dif 7 
 tort the fenfe of even written laws, we may judge how im- 
 practicable the adminiiiration of juftice muft be among all 
 focieties that are deftitute of them. Therefore the third and 
 laft ftep to fociety, is the invention of letters. No multitudes 
 can live peaceably without government ; no government can 
 fubiift without laws; and no laws can be effectual long, 
 unlefs they are wrote down : the confideration of this is a- 
 lone fufficient to give us a great infight into the nature of 
 man. 
 
 Q E 3 
 
4^4 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hr. T do not think fo : the reafori why no government 
 can fubfift without laws, is, becaufe there are bad men in 
 all multitudes ; but to take patterns from them, when we 
 would judge of human nature, rather than from the good 
 ones that follow the dictates of their reafon, is an injustice 
 one would riot be guilty of to brute beafts ; and it would be 
 very wrong in us, for a few vicious horfes, to condemn the 
 whole fpecies as fuch, without taking notice of the many- 
 fine fpirited creatures that are naturally tame and gentle 
 
 Geo. At this rate I muft repeat every thing that I Ttave 
 faid yelerdav and the day before : I thought you was con- 
 vinced, that it was with thought as it is with fpeech; and 
 that though man was born \vith a capacity beyond other 
 animals, to attain to both, yet, whilft he remained untaught, 
 and never convened with any of his fpecies, thefe charader- 
 iftics were of little ufe to him. All men uninilrucled, whilft 
 they are let alone, will follow the impulfe of their nature, 
 without regard to others ; and therefore all of them are bad, 
 that are not taught to be good ; fo all horfes are ungovern- 
 able that are not well broken : for what we call vicious in 
 them, is. when they bite c r kick, endeavour to break their 
 halter, throw their rider, and exert themfelves with all their 
 ftrength to make off the yoke, and recover that liberty 
 which nature prompts them to aflert and defire. What you 
 call natural, is evidently artificial, and belongs to education : 
 no fine -fpirited horfe was ever tame or gentle, without ma- 
 nagement. Some, perhaps, are not backed until they are 
 four years old ; but then long before that time, they are 
 handled, fpoke to, and dreffed ; they are fed by their keep- 
 ers, put under reftraint, fometimes carelTed, and fometimes 
 made to f nart ; and nothing is omitted whilit they are 
 young, to infpire them with awe and veneration to our 
 fpecies; and make them not only fubmit to it, but like- 
 wife take a pride in obeying the fuperior genius of 
 man. But would you judge of the nature of horfes in 
 general, as to its fitnefs to be governed, take the foals of the 
 beft bred mares and fined ltallions, and turn an hundred of 
 them loofe, fillies and colts together, in a large foreit, till 
 they are feven years old, and then fee how tradable they 
 will be. 
 
 Hor. But this is never done. 
 
 Geo. Whole fault is that? It is not at the requeft of the 
 horfes v that they are kept from the mares ; and that any of | 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 455 
 
 them are ever gentle or tame, is entirely owing to the ma- 
 nagement of man. Vice proceeds from the fame origin in 
 men, as it-does in horfes; the defire of uncontrouled liberty, 
 and impatience of reitraint, are not more vifible in the one 
 than they are in the other ; and a man is then called vicious, 
 when, breaking the curbs of precepts and prohibitions, he 
 wildly follows the unbridled appetites of his untaught or ill- 
 managed nature. The complaints againft this nature of 
 ours, are every where the fame : man would have every thing 
 he likes, without considering whether he has any right to it 
 or not ; and he would do every thing he has a mind to do, 
 without regard to the confequence it would be of to others; 
 at the fame time that he drihkes every body, that acting trom 
 the fame principle, have in all their behaviour not a ipecial 
 regard to him. 
 
 Hor. That is, in fhort, man naturally will not do as he 
 would be done by. 
 
 Cleo. That is true ; and for this, there is another reafon in 
 his nature : all men are partial in their judgments, when they 
 compare themielves to others ; no two equals think io w r ell 
 of each other, as both do of themfelves; and where all men 
 have an equal right to judge, there needs no greater caufe of 
 quarrel, than a prefent amongft them, with an mfcription of 
 detur digniori. Man in his anger behaves himfelf in the fame 
 manner as o* her animals; dirturbing, in the purluit offelf- 
 prefervation, thole they .are angry with ; and all of them en- 
 deavour, according as the degree of their pafiion is, either to 
 deitroy, or caufe pain and difpleafure to their adverfaries. 
 That thefe obrlacles to foeiety are the faults, or rather pro- 
 perties of our nature, we may know by this, that all regula- 
 tions and prohibitions that have been contrived for the tem- 
 poral happinefs of mankind, are made exactly to tally w-ith 
 them, and to obviate thole complaints,' which I faid w r ere 
 every where made againii mankind. The principal laws of 
 all countries have the fame tendency ; and there is not one 
 that does not point at fome frailty, delect, or unfitnefs for fo- 
 eiety, that men are naturally iubject to ; but all of them are 
 plainly deligned as io many lemedies, to cure and diiappoint 
 that natural inflinct of Sovereignty, which teaches man to 
 look upon every thing as centring in himfelf, and prompts 
 him to put in a claim to every thing he can lay his hands 
 on. This tendency and deiign to mend our nature, for the 
 temporal good of Society, is no where moie viiible, than m 
 " G g 4 
 
45^ THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 that compendious as well as complete body of laws, that was 
 given by God himfelf. The Ifraelites, whilft they were Haves 
 in Egypt, were governed by the laws of their mailers ; and 
 as they were many degrees removed from the lowefl favages, 
 fo they were yet far from being a civilized nation. It is rea- 
 fonable to think, that, before they received the law of God, 
 they had regulations and agreements already eftablifhed, 
 which the ten commandments did not abolifh ; and that 
 they muft have had notions of right and wrong, and con- 
 tra els among them againft open violence, and the inyafion 
 of property, is demonftrable. 
 
 Hor. How is that demonftrable ? 
 
 Cleo. From the decalogue itfelf : all wife laws are adapted 
 to the people that are to obey them. From the ninth com- 
 mandment, for example, it is evident, that a man's own tef- 
 timony was not fufficient to be believed in his own affair, 
 and that nobody was allowed to be a judge in his own cafe. 
 
 Hor. It only forbids us to bear falfe witnefs againft our 
 neighbour. 
 
 Cleo. That is true ; and therefore the whole tenor and de- 
 fign of this commandment prefuppofes, and muft imply 
 what I fay. But the prohibitions of ftealing, adultery, and 
 coveting any thing that belonged to their neighbours, are 
 ftill more plainly intimating the fame ; and feem to be ad- 
 ditions and amendments, to fupply the defects of fome 
 known regulations and contracts that had been agreed upon 
 before. If, in this view, we behold the three commandments 
 laft hinted at, we ihall find them to be ftrong evidences, not 
 only of that inftinct of fovereignty within us, which at other 
 times I have called a domineering fpirit, and a principle of 
 felhThnefs ; but like wife of the difficulty there is to deftroy, 
 eradicate, and pull it out of the heart of man : for, from fhe 
 eighth commandment it appears, that, though we debar our- 
 felves from taking the things of our neighbour by force, yet 
 there is danger that this inftincl will prompt us to get them 
 unknown to him in a clandeftine manner, and deceive us 
 with the insinuations of an oportet habere. From the fore- 
 going precept, it is likewife manifeft, that though we agree 
 not to take away, and rob a man of the woman that is his 
 own, it is yet to be feared, that if we like her, this innate 
 principle that bids us gratify every appetite, will advife us 
 to make ufe of her as if me was our own; though our neigh- 
 bour is at the charge of maintaining her and all the children 
 
 5 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 457 
 
 fhe brings forth. The laft more efpecially is very ample in 
 confirming my afTertion. It ftrikes directly at the root of 
 the evil, and lays open the real fource oi the mifchiefs that 
 are apprehended in the feventh and the eighth command- 
 ment : for without firft actually treipafnng againit this, no 
 man is in danger of breaking either of the former. This 
 tenth commandment, moreover, iniinuates very plainly, in 
 the firft place, that this inilincl of ours is of great power, and 
 a frailty hardly to be cured ; in the lecond, that there is no- 
 thing which our neighbour can be pofieffed of, but, ne- 
 glecting the conlideration of juitice and property, we may 
 have a deiire after it; for which reafon it abfolutely forbids 
 us to- covet any thing that is his : The Divine Wifdom, well 
 knowing the itrength of this felfifh principle, which obliges 
 us continually to afTume every thing to ourfelves ; and that, 
 when once a man heartily covets a thing, this imiinct, this 
 principle will over-rule and perfuade him to leave no flone 
 unturned to compafs his defires. 
 
 Hor. According to your way of expounding the com- 
 mandments, and making them tally fo exactly with the frail- 
 ties of our nature, it ihould follow from the ninth, that all 
 men are born with a ftrong appetite to forfwear themielves, 
 which I never heard before. 
 
 Cleo. Nor I neither ; and I confefs that the rebuke there is 
 in this fmart turn of yours is very plauiible ; but the cen- 
 fure, how fpecious foever it may appear, is unjuft, and you 
 fhali not find the confequence you hint at, if you will be 
 pleafed to diitinguifli between the natural appetites them- 
 felves, and the various crimes which they make us commit, 
 rather than not be obeyed : For, though we are born with 
 no immediate appetite to forfwear ourfelves, yet we are born 
 with more than one, that, if never checked, may in time 
 oblige us to forfwear ourfelves, or do worfe, if it be poiuble, 
 and they cannot be gratified without it ; and the command- 
 ment you mention plainly implies, that by nature we are 
 fo unreaibnably attached to our intereft on all emergencies, 
 that it is poilible for a man to be fwayed by it, not only to 
 the viiible detriment of others, as is manifeil from the feventh 
 and the eighth, but even though it mould be againit his own 
 conicience : For nobody did ever knowingly bear falfe witnels 
 againit his neighbour, but he did it for fome end or other; this 
 end, whatever it is, I call his intereit. The law which for- 
 bids murder, had already demonftrated to us, how immenfe- 
 
45$ ?HE SIXTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 ly we undervalue every thing, when it comes in competition 
 with ourfelves ; for, though our greater! dread be deftru&ion, 
 and we know no other calamity equal to the divToiution of 
 our being, yet men unequitable judges this inflincl of fove- 
 reignty is able ro make of us, that rather than not have our 
 will, which we count our happinefs, we choole to inflict this 
 calamity on others and bring total ruin on inch as we think 
 to be obftacles to the gratification of our appetites ; and this 
 men do, not only for hindrances that are prefent, or appre- 
 hended as to come, but likewife for former offences, and 
 thmgs that aie pall redrefs. 
 
 Hor. By what you faid laft, you mean revenge, I fuppofe. 
 
 Cleo. I do fo ; and the inftincl of fovereignty wluch I 
 afTert to be in human nature, is in nothing fo glarmgly con- 
 fpicuous as it is in this paffion, which no mere man was ever 
 born without, and which even the moft civilized, as well as 
 the moll learned, are feldom able to conquer: For whoever 
 pretends to revenge himfelf, mull claim a right to a judica- 
 ture within, and an authority to punifh : Vv Inch, being de- 
 itructive to the mutual peace of all multitudes, aie for that 
 reafon the firil things that in every civil fociety are matched 
 dway out of every man's hands, as dangerous tools, and veil- 
 ed in the governing part, the fupreme power only. 
 
 Hon This remark on revenge has convinced me more 
 than any thing you have faid yet, that there is fome fuch 
 thing as a principle of fovereignty in our nature ; butl can- 
 not conceive yet, why the vices of private, 1 mean particular 
 perfons, fhould be thought to belong to the whole ipecies. 
 
 Cleo. Becaufe every body is liable to fall into the vices 
 that are peculiar to his fpecies ; and it is with them, as it 
 is with diikmpers among creatures of different kinds : There 
 are many ailments that hones are fubjecL to, which are not 
 incident to cows. There is no vice, but whoever commits 
 it had within him before he was guilty of it, a tendency to- 
 wards it, a latent caufe that difpofed him to it : Therefore, 
 all lawgivers have two main points to confider at letting out: 
 Firil, what things will procure happinefs to the fociety under 
 their care : Secondly, what pailions and properties there are 
 in man's nature, that may either promote or obitruci 
 happinefs. It is prudence to watch your run pon^s agamil 
 the imults of hearns and bitterns ; but the fame precaution 
 would be ridiculous againit turkevs and peacocks, or any 
 
S SIXTH DE ^ 459 
 
 ■ creature?, that neither love fiih, ncr are able to catch 
 them. 
 
 defect is it in our nature, that the 
 rd to, or, as you call it, 
 
 Geo. Our natural blindnefs and ignorance of the true 
 Deity : For. t£ e all come into the world with afl 
 
 i toward religion d :dore we come 
 
 to maturity^ yet the rear of an imv ilible 
 
 eaufes, which ail men are born with, is not more univerial, 
 than tile uncertainty which all untai : at n eu fl in as 
 
 to the nature and properties _. or thole cauies : 
 
 There can be no greater proof of this 
 
 Hor. I want none- the hidicry of all ages is a fuiScient 
 witnefs. 
 
 Cleo. Give me leave: There can, I fay, be no greater 
 proof of this, than the fecond commandment, which palpa- 
 bly points at all the abfurditi dominations which the 
 ill guid-d rear of an i dad already made, and 
 wouh and in doing 
 this, I can hardly think ng but L ifdom 
 could, m 10 fe e comprehended the vaft extent 
 and fum total of human exti ue in that 
 it : dor there is not] remote in 
 the fi it, nor (blow or abject upon earth, but fome 
 men b or other the 
 3. of the doe, 
 
 K:r. Croc . 
 
 [bin. 
 JLiBgi s facri :.:.. 
 
 Add d it is a reproach to our fpecies, that 
 
 uch a creature as a 
 r , that can be charged 
 on mperftition. 
 
 :. 1 do net think fo : a monkey is ftill a living crea- 
 and coni rnewhat iuperior to things inani- 
 
 id have thought mens adoration of the fun or 
 m ,y leis abfurd than to have feen them fall down 
 
 be Le, lb ridiculous an animal. 
 
 j have adored the fun and moon never 
 ere intelligent as well as glorious be- 
 
460 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 ings. But when I mentioned the word inanimate, I was 
 thinking on what the fame poet you quoted faid of the ve- 
 neration men paid to leeks and onions, deities they raifed in 
 their own gardens. 
 
 Porrura & cepe nefas violare, & frangere morfu : 
 O fan&as genteis, quibus hsec nafcuntur in hortis 
 Numina ! 
 
 But this is nothing to what has been done in America four- 
 teen hundred years after the time of Juvenal. If the porten- 
 tous worfhip of the Mexicans had been known in his days, 
 he would not have thought it worth his while to take notice 
 of the Egyptians. I have often admired at the uncommon 
 pains thofe poor people muft have taken to exprefs the 
 frightful and ihocking, as well as bizarre and unutterable no- 
 tions they entertained of the fuperiative malice and hellifh 
 implacable nature of their vitzliputzli, to whom they facrifi- 
 ced the hearts of men, cut out whilft they were alive. The 
 monftrous figure and laboured deformity of that abominable 
 idol, are a lively reprefentation of the direful ideas thofe 
 wretches framed to themfelves of an invifible over-ruling 
 power ; and plainly fhow us, how horrid and execrable they 
 thought it to be, at the fame time that they paid it the high- 
 eft adoration ; and at the expence of human blood endea- 
 voured, with fear and trembling, if not to appeafe the wrath 
 and rage of it, at lead to avert, in fome meaiure, the mani- 
 fold mifchiefs they apprehended from it. 
 
 Hor. Nothing, I muft own, can render declaiming againft 
 idolatry more feafonable than a reflection upon the fecond 
 commandment : But as what you have been faying required 
 no great attention, I have been thinking of fomething elfe. 
 Thinking on the purport of the third commandment, fur- 
 nifhes me with an objection, and I think a ftrong one, to 
 what you have affirmed about all laws in general, and the 
 decalogue in particular. You know I urged that it was 
 wrong to afcribe the faults of bad men to human nature in 
 general. 
 
 Geo. I do ; and thought I had anfwered you. 
 
 'Hor. Let me try only once more. Which of the two, 
 pray, do you think profane fwearing to proceed from, a 
 frailty in our nature, or an ill cuftom generally contracted 
 by keeping of bad company ? 
 
 Cko. Certainly the latter. 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 461 
 
 Eor. Then it is evident to me, that this law is levelled at 
 the bad men only, that are guilty of the vice forbid in it ; 
 and not any frailty belonging to human nature in general. 
 
 Cleo. I believe you miitake the delign of this law; and 
 am of opinion, that it has a much higher aim than you feem 
 to imagine. You remember my faying, that reverence to 
 authority was necefTary, to make human creatures govern- 
 able. 
 
 Hor. Very well ; and that reverence was a compound of 
 fear, love, and efteem. 
 
 Cleo. Now let us take a view of what is done in the deca- 
 logue : In the fhort preamble to it, exprefsly made that the 
 Ifraelites mould know who it was that fpoke to them, God 
 manifefts himfeif to thofe whom he had chofen for his 
 people, by a moil remarkable inflance of his own great 
 power, and their itrong obligation to him, in a fact, that none 
 of them could be ignorant of. There is a plainnefs and 
 grandeur withal in this fentence, than which nothing can 
 be more truly fublime or majeflic ; and I defy the learned 
 world to fnow me another as compreheniive, and of equal 
 weight and dignity, that fo fully executes its purpofe, and 
 anfwers its delign with the fame fimplicity of words. In 
 that part of the fecond commandment, which contains the 
 motives and inducements why men mould obey the Divine 
 laws, are fet forth in the moil emphatical manner : Firfr, 
 God's wrath on thofe that hate him, and the continuance of 
 it on their poiterity : Secondly, the wide extent of his mercy 
 to thofe who love him and keep his commandments. If 
 we duly consider thefe paflages, we fhall find, that fear, as 
 well as love, and the higher]: efteem, are plainly and diftinctly 
 inculcated in them \ and that the belt method is made ufe 
 of there, to infpire men with a deep fenfe of the three ingre- 
 dients that make up the compound of reverence. The rea- 
 fon is plain : If people were to be governed by that body of 
 laws, nothing was more necefTary to enforce their obedience 
 to them, than their awful regard and utmoft veneration to 
 him, at whofe command they were to keep them, and to 
 whom they were accountable for the breaking of them. 
 
 Hor. What anfwer is all this to my objection ? 
 
 Cleo. Have a moment's patience ; I am coming to it. 
 Mankind are naturally fickle, and delight in change and va- 
 riety ; they feldom retain long the fame impreflion of things 
 they received at firfi, when they were new to them; and 
 
4^2 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 they are apt to undervalue, if not defpife the beft; when they 
 grow common. I am of opinion, that the third command^ 
 ment points at this frailty, this want of fteadinefs in our na- 
 ture ; the ill confequences of which, in our duty to the Crea- 
 tor, could not be better prevented than by a riricl observance 
 of this law, in never making ufe of his name, but in the moil 
 folemn manner, on neceifary occafions, and in matters of high 
 importance. As in the "foregoing part of the decalogue, 
 care had been already taken, by the ffrongeft motives, to 
 create and attract reverence, fo nothing could be more wife- 
 ly adapted to ftrengthen, and make it everlailing, than the 
 contents of this law: For as too much familiarity breeds 
 contempt, fo our higheft regard due to what is nioft facred, 
 cannot be kept up better than by a quite contrary practice. 
 
 Hor, I am anfwered. 
 
 CJeo. What weight reverence is thought to be cf to procure 
 obedience, we may learn from the fame body of laws in ano- 
 ther commandment. Children have no opportunity of learn- 
 ing their duty but Frond their parents and thofe who act by their 
 authority or in their ftead : Therefore, it was requifite, that 
 men mould not only ftand in great dread of the law of God, 
 but like wife have great reverence for thofe who lirrt incul- 
 cated it, and communicated to them that this was the law of 
 God. 
 
 Hor. But you faid, that the reverence of children to pa- 
 rents was a natural confequence of what they iirii experien- 
 ced from the latter. 
 
 Geo. You think there was no occaflon for this law, if man 
 would do what is commanded in it of his own accord : But 
 I deiire you would coniider, that though the reverence of 
 children to parents is a natural confequence, partly of the 
 benefits and chaftifements they receive from them, and part- 
 ly of the great opinion they form of the fuperior capacity 
 they obferve in them; experience teaches us, that this reve- 
 rence may be over- ruled by ftronger pailions ; and therefore 
 it being of the higheft moment to all government and foci- 
 ablenefs itfelf, God thought fit to fortify and ftrengthen it in 
 us, by a particular command of his own ; and, moreover, to 
 encourage it, by the promife of a reward for the keeping of 
 it. It is our parents that firlt cure us of our natural wild- 
 nefs, and break in us the fpirit of independency we are all 
 born with : It is to them we owe the firft rudiments of our 
 fub million ; and to the honour and deference which children 
 
 3 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 463 
 
 pay to parents, all focieties are obliged for the principle of 
 human obedience. The inftinct of fovereignty in our na- 
 ture, and the waywardnefs of infants, which is the confe- 
 quence of it, difcover themfelves with the leatt glimmering 
 of our understanding, and before children that have been 
 molt neglected, and the lead taught, are always the moil 
 flubborn and obftinate ; and none are more unruly, and 
 fonder of following their own will, than thofe that are leafi 
 capable of governing themfelves. 
 
 Hor. Then this commandment you think not obligatory, 
 when we come to years of maturity. 
 
 Cko. Far from it : for though the benefit politically in- 
 tended by this law be chiefly received by us, whilil we are 
 underage and the tuition of parents ; yet, for that very rea- 
 fon, ought the duty com. nand^d in it, never to ceafe. We 
 are fond of imitating our fuperiors from our cradle, and 
 whilit this honour and reverence to parents continue to be 
 paid by their children, when they are grown men and wo- 
 men, and act for themfelves, the example is of lingular ufe 
 to all minors, in teaching the n their duty, and not to tefufe 
 what they fee others, that are older and wifer, comply with 
 by choice : For, by this means, as their understanding in- 
 creafes, this duty, by degrees, becomes a famion, which at 
 lait their pride will not luffer them to neglect. 
 
 Hor. What you faid lad is certainly the reafon, that among 
 fafhionable people, even the mot vicious and wicked do out- 
 ward homage, and pay refpect to parents, at leait before the 
 world ; though they act againt, and in their hearts hate 
 them. 
 
 Cko. Here is another inftance to convince us, that good 
 manners are not mconfiitent with wickednefs ; and that men 
 may be ftrict obfervers of decorums, and take pains to feem 
 well bred, and at the fame time have no regard to the laws 
 of God, and live in contempt of religion : and therefore to 
 procure an outward compliance with this fifth command- 
 ment, no lecture can be of fuch force, nor any instruction lb 
 edifying to youth, among the modet fort of people, as the 
 light of a Strong and vigorous, as well as polite and well 
 dreiTed man, in a difpute giving way and iubmitting to a de- 
 crepit parent. 
 
 Hor. But do you imagine that all the divine laws, even thofe 
 that feem only to relate to God himielf, his power and glory, 
 and our obedience to his will, abifoact from any consideration 
 
 4 
 
4&4 TKE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 of our neighbour, had likewife a regard to the good of foci- 
 ety, and the temporal happinefs of his people ? 
 
 Cleo. There is no doubt of that \ witnefs the keeping of 
 the Sabbath. 
 
 Hor. We have feen that very handfomely proved in one 
 of the Spectators. 
 
 Cleo. But the ufefulnefs of it in human affairs, is of far 
 greater moment, than that which the author of that paper 
 chiefly takes notice of. Of all the difficulties that mankind 
 have laboured under in completing fociety, nothing has been 
 more puzzling or perplexing than the divifion of time. Our 
 annual courfe round the fun, not anfwering exactly any num- 
 ber of complete days or hours, has been the occafion of im- 
 menfe fludy and labour : and nothing has more racked the 
 brain of man, than the adjufling the year to prevent the con- 
 fufion of feafons : but even when the year was divided into 
 lunar months, the computation of time mufl have been im- 
 practicable among the common people : To remember 
 twenty- nine, or thirty days, where feafts are irregular, and all 
 other days fhow alike, mufl have been a great burden to the 
 memory, and caufed a continual confufion among the igno- 
 rant; whereas, a fhort period foon returning is ealily remem- 
 bered, and one fixed day in feven, fo remarkably dirtinguifh- 
 ed from the reft, mufl rub up the memory of the moll un- 
 thinking. 
 
 Hor. I believe that the Sabbath is a confiderable help in 
 the computation of time, and of greater ufe in human affairs, 
 than can be ealily imagined by thole, who never knew the 
 want of it. 
 
 Cleo. But what is mod remarkable in this fourth com- 
 mandment, is God's revealing himfelf to his people, and ac- 
 quainting an infant nation with a truth, which the reil of the 
 w T orld remained ignorant of for many ages. Men were foon 
 made fenlible of the fun's power, obferved every meteor in 
 the fky, and iufpected the influence of the moon and other 
 flars: but it was a long time, and man was far advanced in 
 fublime notions, before the light of nature could raife mortal 
 thought to the contemplation of an Infinite Being that is the 
 author of the whole. 
 
 Hor. You have defcanted on this fufficiently when you 
 fpoke of Mofes : pray let us proceed to the further eftablifh- 
 rnent of fociety. I amfatisfied that the third ftep towards it 
 is the invention of letters ; that without them no laws can be 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 465 
 
 long effectual, and that the principle laws of all countries are 
 remedies againft human frailties; I mean, that they are de- 
 iigned as antidotes, to prevent the ill confequcnces of fome 
 properties inseparable from our nature ; which yet in them- 
 felves, without management or restraint, are obfrructive and 
 pernicious to fociety : I am perfuacled like wife, that thefe 
 frailties are palpably pointed at in the decalogue ; that it 
 was wrote with great wifdom, and that there is not one com- 
 mandment in it, that has not a regard to the temporal good 
 of fociety, as well as matters of higher moment. 
 
 Cleo. Thefe are the things, indeed, that I have endeavour- 
 ed to prove ; and now all the great difficulties and chief ob- 
 ftruclions, that can hinder a multitude from being formed in- 
 to a body politic, are removed : when once men come to be 
 governed by written laws, all the red comes on a-pace. Now 
 property, and fafety of life and limb may be fe cured : this 
 naturally will forward the love of peace, and make it fpread, 
 No number of men, when once they enjoy quiet, and no 
 man needs to fear his neighbour, will be long without learn- 
 ing to divide and fubdivide their labour. 
 
 Hot. I do not underftand you. 
 
 Cleo. Man, as I have hinted before, naturally loves to imi-. 
 tate what he fees others do, which is the reafon that favage 
 people all do the fame thing : this hinders them from melio- 
 rating their condition, though they are always wifhing for it: 
 but if one will wholly apply himfelf to the making of bows 
 and arrows, whilft another provides food, a third builds huts, 
 a fourth makes garments, and a fifth utenlils : they not only 
 become ufeful to one another, bat the callings afnd employ- 
 ments themfelves will in the fame number of years receive 
 much greater improvements, than if all had been promifcu- 
 ouily followed by every one of the five. 
 
 Hor. I believe you are perfectly right there; and the truth 
 of what you fay is in nothing \o confpicuous, as if is in watch- 
 making, which is come to a higher degree of perfection, than 
 it would have been arrived at yet, if the whole bad always 
 remained the employment of one perfon ; and I am per- 
 fuaded, that even the plenty we have of clocks and watches, 
 as well as the exadlneis and beauty they may be made of, 
 are chiefly owing to the division that has been made of that 
 art into many branches. 
 
 H h 
 
4&6 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. The ufe of letters muft likewife very much improve 
 fpeech itielf, which before that time cannot but be very bar- 
 ren and precarious. 
 
 Hot. i am glad to hear you mention fpeech again : I 
 "would not interrupt you when you named it once before : 
 Pray what language did your wild couple fpeak, when firft 
 they met ? 
 
 Cleo. From what I have faid already, it is evident, that 
 they could have had none at all; at leaft, that it is my 
 opinion. 
 
 Hor. Then wild people muft have an inftinct to under- 
 Hand one another, which they lofe when they are civilized. 
 
 Cleo. I am perfuaded that nature has made all animals of 
 the fame kind, in their mutual commerce, intelligible to one 
 another, as far as is requilite for the prefervation of them- 
 felves and their fpecies : and as to my wild couple, as you 
 call them, I believe there would be a very good underftand- 
 ing before many founds paffed between them. It is not with- 
 out fome difficulty, that a man born in fociety can form an 
 idea of fuch lavages, and their condition ; and unlefs he has 
 ufed himfelf to abitracl thinking, he can hardly reprelent 
 to himfelf fuch a ftate of limplicity, in which man can have 
 fo few delires, and no appetites roving beyond the immediate 
 call of untaught nature : to me it feems very plain, that fuch 
 a couple would not only be deilitute of language, but like- 
 wife never find out, or imagine that they ftood in need of 
 any ; or that the want of it was any real inconvenience to 
 them. 
 
 Hor. Why do you think fo ? 
 
 Cleo. Becaufe it is impoilible that any creatures fhould 
 know the want of what it can have no idea of: 1 believe, 
 moreover, that if favages, after they are grown men and wo- 
 men, fhould hear others fpeak, be made acquainted with the 
 ufefulnefs of fpeech, and confequently become fenlible of the 
 want of it in themfelves, their inclination to learn it would 
 be as inconfiderable as their capacity ; and if they fhould at- 
 tempt it, they would find it an immenfe labour, a thing not 
 to be furmounted ; becaufe the fupplenefs and flexibility in 
 the organs of fpeech, that children are endued with, and 
 which 1 have often hinted at, would be loft in them ; and 
 they might learn to play mafterly upon the violin, or any 
 other the molt difficult mulical inltrument, before they could 
 tnakeany tulerable proficiency infpeaking. 
 
the Sixth dialogue. 467 
 
 ifor. Brutes make feveral dir>inc"t founds to exprefs dif- 
 ferent paffions by : as for example, anguifh, and great dan- 
 ger, dogs of all forts exprefs with another noife than they do 
 rage and anger ; and the whole fpecies exprefs grief by howl- 
 
 Cleo. This is no argument to make us believe, that nature 
 has endued man with fpeech ; there are innumerable other 
 privileges and inftincts which fome brutes enjoy, and men 
 are deftitute of: chickens run about as foon as they are 
 hatched ; and mod quadrupeds can walk without help, as 
 foon as they are brought forth. If ever language came by 
 inftinct, the people that fpoke it muft have known every in- 
 dividual word in it ; and a man in the wild Hate of nature 
 would have no occafion for a thoufandth part of the moil 
 barren language that ever had a name. When a man's 
 knowledge is confined within a narrow compafs, and he has 
 nothing to obey, but the limple dictates of nature, the want 
 of fpeech is eafily fupplied by dumb figris; and it is more 
 natural to untaught men to exprefs themfelves by geftures, 
 than by founds ; but we are all born with a capacity of 
 making ourfelves understood, beyond other animals, without 
 fpeech : to exprefs grief, joy, love, wonder and fear, there 
 are certain tokens that are common to the whole fpecies. 
 Who doubts that the crying of children was given them by 
 nature, to call affiitance and raife pity, which latter it does 
 fo unaccountably beyond any other found? 
 
 Hor. In mothers and nurfeSj you mean. 
 
 Cleo. I mean in the generality of human creatures. Will 
 you allow me, that warlike mufic generally roufes and fup- 
 ports the fpirits, and keeps them from finking. 
 
 Hor. I believe I mult. 
 
 Cleo. Then I will engage, that the crying (I mean the va- 
 gitus ) of helplefs infants will ltir up companion in the gene- 
 rality of our fpecies, that are within the hearing of it, with 
 mach greater certainty than drums and trumpets will diffi- 
 pate and chafe away tear, in thole they are applied to. Weep- 
 ing, laughing, fmiling, frowning, hghing, exclaiming, we 
 fpoke of before. How uriiverfal, as well as copious, is the 
 language of the eyes, by the help of which the remoteft na- 
 tions underftand one another at ririt light, taught or un- 
 taught, in the weigncieit temporal concern that belongs to 
 the fpecies ? and in that language our wild couple would at 
 their firit meeting intelligibly iay more to one another with- 
 H h a 
 
46$ THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 out guile, than any civilized pair would dare to name with- 
 out bluihing. 
 
 Hor. A man, without doubt, may be as impudent with 
 his eyes, as he can be with his tongue. 
 
 Cleo. All fuch looks, therefore, and feveral motions, that 
 are natural, are carefully avoided among polite people, upon 
 no other account, than that they are too lignificant : it is for 
 the fame reafon that ftretching ourfelves before others, whilft 
 we are yawning, is an abfolute breach of good manners, 
 efpecially in mixed company of both fexes. As it is in- 
 decent to difplay any of thefe tokens, fo it is unfafhionable 
 to take notice* of, or feem to underiiand -them : this difufe 
 and neglect of then is thecaufe, that whenever they happen 
 to be made, either through ignorance or wilful rudenefs, many 
 of them are loll and really not underftood, by the beau mo/ule, 
 that would be very plain to lavages without language, who 
 could have no other means of converting than by iigns and 
 motions. 
 
 Hor. But if the old ftock would never either be able or 
 willing to acquire fpeech, it is poflible they could teach it 
 their children : then which way could any language ever 
 come into the world from two lavages? 
 
 Cko. Bv llow degrees, as all other arts and fciences have 
 done, and length of time 5 agriculture, phytic, aftronomy, 
 architecture, painting, &c. From what we fee in children 
 that are backward with their tongues, we have reafon to 
 think, that a wild pair would make themfelves intelligible to 
 each other by ligns and geltures, before they would attempt 
 it by founds: but when they lived together for many years, 
 it is very probable, that for the things they were moil conver- 
 fant with tney would rind out founds, to ftir up in each other 
 the ideas of fuch things, when they were out of light; thefe 
 founds they would communicate to their young ones; and 
 the longer they lived together the greater variety of founds 
 they would invent, as well for actions as the things them- 
 felves: they would find that the volubility of tongue, and 
 flexibility of voice, were much greater in their young ones, 
 th in they could remember it ever to have been in them- 
 felves : it is impolliblc, but loine of thefe young ones would 
 either by accident or deiign, make ufe of this iuperior apti- 
 tude of the organ, at one time or other ; which ever) gene- 
 ration would 1 U.I nvi'wve upon; and this mu«r have 
 the origin of all languages, and fyeecb ltfclf, that were not 
 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 469 
 
 taught by infpiration. I believe moreover, that after lan- 
 guage (I mean fuch as is of human invention) was come to 
 a great degree of perfection, and even when people had dif- 
 tincf. words for every actioji in life, as well as every thing 
 they meddled or converfed with, figns and geftures ftill cnn- 
 tinued to be made for a great while, to accompany ipeech ; 
 becaufe both are intended for the fame purpcfe. 
 
 Hor. The deiign of ipeech is to make our thoughts known 
 to others. 
 
 C/eo. I do not think fo. 
 
 Hor. What ! do not men fpeakto be underftood? 
 
 C/eo. In one fenfe they do ; but there is a double meaning 
 in thofe words, which I believe you did not intend : if by 
 man's fpeaking to be underftood you mean, that when men 
 fpeak, they deiire that the purport of the founds they utter 
 fhould be known and apprehended by others I anfvver in 
 the arrlrmitive : but if you mean by it, that men fpeak, in 
 order that their thoughts may be known, and their fenti- 
 rnents laid open and feen through by others, which hkewife 
 may be meant by fpeaking to be underftood, 1 anfwer in the 
 negative. The firit iign or found that ever man made, born 
 of a woman, was made in behalf, and intended for the ufe of 
 him who made it ; and I am of opinion, that the firit deiign 
 of fpeech was to perfuade others, either to give credit to 
 what the fpeaking perfon would have them believe; or elfe 
 to act or fuller fuch things, as he would compel them to act 
 or fuffer, if they were entirely in his power. 
 
 Hor. Speech is likewife made ufe of to teach, advife, and 
 inform others for their benefit, as well as to perfuade them 
 in our own behalf. 
 
 Geo. And fo by the help of it men may accufe themfelves 
 and own their crimes ; buL nobody would have invented fpeech 
 for thofe parpofes ; I fpeak of the deiign, the firft motive 
 and intention that put man upon fpeaking. We fee in children 
 that the firft things they endeavour to exprefs with words, are 
 their wants and their will ; and their fpeech is but a confir- 
 mation of what they aiked, denied, or affirmed, by figns 
 before. 
 
 Hor. But why do you imagine that people would conti- 
 nue to make ufe of figns and geftures, after they could 
 fufficiently exprefs themfelves in words ? 
 
 Geo. Becaufe figns confirm words, as much as words do 
 figns ; and we fee, even in polite people, that when they are 
 
 Hh 3 
 
47° ^ HE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 very eager they can hardly forbear making ufe of both, 
 When an infant, in broken imperfect gibberifh, calls for a 
 cake or a play- thing, and at the fame time points at and 
 reaches after it, this doable endeavour makes a ftronger im- 
 preilion upon us, than if the child hadfpoke its wants in plain 
 -words, without making any iigns, or elfe looked at and 
 reached after the thing wanted, without attempting to 
 fpeak. Speech and action affift and corroborate one an- 
 other, and experience teaches us that they move us much 
 more, and are more perfuafive jointly than ieparately ; vis 
 unita fortior ; and when an infant makes ufe of both, he acts 
 from the fame principle that an orator does when he joins 
 proper geftures to an elaborate declamation. 
 
 Hor. From what you have faid it fhould feem that action 
 is not only more natural, but likewife more ancient than 
 fpeech itielf, which before I fhould have thought a paradox. 
 
 Cko. Yet it is true ; and you fhall always 6nd that the 
 moft forward, volatile, and fiery tempers make more ufe of 
 geftures when they fpeak, than others that are more patient 
 and fedate. 
 
 Hor. It is a very diverting fcene to fee how this is over- 
 done among the French, and ftill more among the Portu- 
 guefe : I have often been amazed to fee what distortions of 
 face and body, as well as other ft range gefticulations with 
 hands and feet, fome of them will make in their ordinary 
 difcourfes : But nothing was more offenfive to me, when I 
 was abroad, than the loudnefs and violence which moft fo- 
 reigners fpeak with, even among perfons of quality, when a 
 difpute arifes, or any thing is to be debated : before 1 was 
 ufed to it, it put me always upon my guard ; for I did not 
 queition but they were angry ; and I often recollected what 
 had been faid in order to confider whether it was not fome- 
 thing I ought to have refented. 
 
 Cieo. The natural ambition and ftrong defire men have to 
 triumph over, as well as perfuade others, are the occaiion of 
 all this. Heightening and lowering the voice at proper fea- 
 fons, is a bewitching engine to captivate mean underftand- 
 ings ; and loudnefs 'is an affiftant to fpeech, as well as action 
 is: uncorrectnefs, falfe grammar, and even want of fenfe, 
 are often happily drowned in noife and great buftle ; and 
 many an argument has been convincing, that had all its 
 force from the vehemence it was made with : the weaknefs 
 
TfiE SITXH DIALOGUE. 47 1 
 
 «f the language itfelf may be palliatively cured by flrength 
 of elocution. 
 
 Hor. I am glad that fpealring low is the fafhion among 
 well- bred people in England ; for bawling and impetuolity 
 I cannot endure. 
 
 Cleo. Yet this latter is more natural ; and no <man ever 
 gave in to ihe contrary practice, the fafhion you like, that 
 was not taught it either by precept or example : and if men 
 do not accuftom themfelves to it whilfl they are young, it is 
 very difficult to comply with it afterwards : but it is the 
 moil lovely, as well as moil rational piece of good manners 
 that human invention has to boaft of in the art of flattery j; 
 for when a man addreifes himfelf to me in a calm manner, 
 without making ge (lures or other motions with head or body, 
 and continues his difcourfe in the fame fubmiflive itrain and 
 compofure of voice, without exalting or depreffing it, he, 
 in ihe firfl place, difplays his own modefty and humility in 
 an agreeable manner ; and, in the fecond, makes me a great 
 compliment in the opinion which he feems to have of me ; 
 for by fuch a behaviour he gives me the pleafure to imagine 
 that he thinks me not influenced by my pailions, but alto- 
 'gether fwayed by my reafon : he feems to lay his flrefs on 
 my judgment, and therefore to delire, that I fhould weigh 
 and coniider what he fays without being ruffled or diilurbed: 
 no man would do this unlefs he trufled entirely to my good 
 fenfe, and the rectitude of my underilanding. 
 
 Hor. I have always admired this unaffected manner of 
 fpeaking, though I never examined fo deeply into the mean- 
 ing of it. 
 
 Cleo. I cannot help thinking, but that, next to the la- 
 conic and manly fpirit that runs through the nation, we are 
 very much beholden for the ilrength and beauty of our 
 language to this tranquillity in difcourfe, which for many 
 years has been in England, more than any where elfe, a 
 cuflom peculiar to the beau monde, who, in all countries, 
 are the undoubted refiners of language. 
 
 Hor. I thought that it was the preachers, play-wrights, 
 orators, and fine writers that refined upon language. 
 
 Cleo. They make the befl of what is ready coined to their 
 hands ; but the true and only mint of words and phrafes ig 
 the court ; and the polite part of every nation are in poflef- 
 iion of the jus et norma loquendi. All technic words indeed, 
 and terms of art, belong to the refpeclive artifts and dealers.,. 
 
 Hh 4 
 
47 2 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 that primarily and literally make ufe of them in their bufi- 
 nefs ; but whatever is borrowed from them for metaphorical 
 ufe, or from other languages, living or dead, muft firft have 
 the ftamp of the court, and the approbation of beau monde 
 before it can pafs for current ; and whatever is not ufed a- 
 mong them, or comes abroad without their fan&ion, is either 
 vulgar, pedantic, or obfolete. Orators therefore, hiftorians, 
 and all wholefale dealers m words, are confined to thofe that 
 have been already well received, and from that treafure they 
 may pick and clioofe what is moil for their purpofe ; but they 
 are not allowed to make new ones of their own, any more 
 than bankers are fullered to coin. 
 
 Hot. All this while 1 cannot comprehend what advantage 
 or disadvantage fpeaking loud or low can be of to the lan- 
 guage itfelf ; and if what I am laying now was let down, it. 
 inuit be a real conjurer that, half a year hence, mould be 
 ab«e to tell by the writing, whether it had been bawled out 
 or whifpered. 
 
 Ceo, I am of opinion that when people of fkill and addrefs 
 accuiiorn themielves to fpeak in the manner aforefaid, it 
 mull in time have an infieence upon the language, ancl 
 render it ilrong and expreflive. 
 
 Nor. But your real on ? 
 
 Geo, When a man has only his words to truft to, and the 
 hearer is not to be ariectcd by the delivery of them, other- 
 wife than if lie was to read them himfelf, it will infallibly 
 put men upon ftudying not only for nervous thoughts and 
 perfpicuity, but like wife for words of great energy, for pu- 
 rity of di&ion, compactnefs of i>yle,and fullnefs, as well as 
 elegancy of expreilions. 
 
 Eor. This ieems to be far fetched, and yet I do not know 
 but there may be foinething in it. 
 
 Cleo. I am fure you will think fo, when you confider that 
 men that, do fpeak are equally deiirous and endeavouring 
 to perfuade and gain the point they labour for, whether they 
 fpeak loud or low, with geftures or without. 
 
 Hot. Speech, you fay, was invented to perfuade; lam 
 afraid you lay too much itrefs upon that : it certainly is made 
 ufe of like wife for many other purpoies. 
 
 C/eo. I do not deny that, 
 
 Ikr. When people fcold, call names, and pelt one an* 
 other with fcurniities, what deiign is that done with? If it 
 be to perfuade others, to have a worfe opinion of themfelves 
 
 I 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 473 
 
 than they are fuppofed to entertain, I believe it is feldom 
 done with fuccefs. 
 
 Cieo. Calling names is fhowing others, and fhowing them 
 with pleafure and orientation, the vile and wretched opinion 
 w T e have of them; and ] u make uie of opprobrious 
 
 language, are often endeavouring to make thofe whom they 
 give it to, believe that they think worie of them than they 
 really do. 
 
 Hor. Worfe than they do ! Whence does that ever appear ? 
 Cko. From the behaviour and the common practice of 
 thoie that fcold and call names. They rip up and exagge- 
 rate not only the faults and imperfections of their adverfary 
 himfelf, but hkewife every thing that is ridiculous or con- 
 temptible in his friends or relations : They will fly to, and 
 1 upon every thing which he is but in the leaft concern- 
 ed in, if any thing can poiTibiy be faid of it that is reproach- 
 ful ; the occupation he follows, the party he iides with, or 
 the country he is of. They repeat with joy the calamities 
 and misfortunes that have befallen him or his family : They 
 fee the juftice of Providence in them, and they are iiire they 
 are pumfhments he has deferved. Whatever crime he has 
 been fufpecled of, they charge him with, as if it had been 
 proved upon him. They call in every thing to their arUit- 
 ance ; bare furmifes, loofe reports, and known calumnies; 
 and often upbraid him with what they themielves, at other 
 times, have owned not to believe. 
 
 Hor. But how conies the practice of fcolding and calling 
 names to be fo common among the vulgar all the world 
 over ? there muft be a pleafure in it, though 1 cannot conceive 
 it : I afk to be informed ; what fatisfa&ion or other benefit 
 is it, that men receive or expect from it ? what view is it 
 • dene with ? 
 
 Geo. The real caufe and inward motive men act from, 
 when they ufe ill language, or call names in earned, is, in 
 the firft place, to give vent to their anger, which it is 
 troublefome to ftifle and conceal. Secondly, to vex and af, 
 met their enemies with greater hopes of impunity than they 
 could reafonably entertain, if they did them any more iub- 
 itantial mifchief, which the law would revenge : but this 
 never comes to be a cuflom, nor is thought of, before lan- 
 guage is arrived to great perfection, and iociety is carried to 
 iome degree of politenefs. 
 
 Hor. That is merry enough, to affert that fcurrility is the 
 effect of politenefs, 
 
474 * HE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. You (hall call it what you pleafe, but in its original 
 it is a plain fhift to avoid fighting, and the ill confequences 
 of it-; for nobody ever called another rogue and rafcal, but 
 he would have ftruck him if it had been in his own power, 
 and himfelf had not been withheld by the fear of fomething 
 or other : therefore, where people call names without doing 
 further injury, it is a fign not only that they have whole- 
 fome laws amonglt them againfl open force and violence, 
 "but like wife that they obey and Hand in awe of them ; and 
 a man begins to he a tolerable fubjecl, and is nigh half civi- 
 lized, that in his paffion will take up and content himfelf 
 with this paultry equivalent ; which never was done with- 
 out great felf-denial at firft : for other wife the obvious, ready, 
 and uniludied manner of venting and expreiling anger, which 
 nature teaches, is the fame in human creatures that it is in 
 other animals, and is done by fighting , as we may obferve 
 In infants of two or three months old, that never yet faw any 
 body out of humour ; for even at that age they will fcratch, 
 fling, and ftrike with their heads as *vell as arms and legs, 
 when any thing raifes their anger, which is eafily, and at 
 molt times unaccountably provoked ; often by hunger, pain, 
 and other inward ailments. That they do this by lmtinct, 
 fomething implanted in the frame, the mechanifm of the 
 "body before any marks of wit or reafon are to be feen in 
 them, I am fully perfuaded ; as I am likewife, that nature 
 teaches them the manner of fighting peculiar to their fpecies ; 
 and children ftrike with their arms as naturally as horfes kick, 
 dogs bite, and bulls pufh with their horns. 1 beg your par- 
 don for this digrefTion. 
 
 Hor. It was natural enough, but if it had been lefs fo, you 
 Tvould not have flipt the opportunity of having a fling at 
 human nature, which you never fpare. 
 
 Cleo. We have not a more dangerous enemy than our own 
 inborn pride : I fhall ever attack, and endeavour to mortify 
 it when it is in my power : For the more we are perfuaded 
 that the greateft excellencies the betf men have to boait of, 
 are acquired, the greater flrefs it will teach us to lay upon 
 education ; and the more truly folicitous it will render us 
 about it : And the abfolute neceflity of good and early in- 
 ftructions, can be no way more clearly demonitrated, than 
 "by expofing the deformity as well as the weaknefs of our un- 
 taught nature. 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 4^$ 
 
 Hor. Let us return to fpeech : if the chief defign of it is 
 to perfuade, the French have gm the ftart of us a great way ; 
 theirs is really a charming language. 
 
 Cieo. So it is without doubt to a Frenchman. 
 
 Hor. And every body eife. 1 fhould think, that under- 
 stands it, and has any tafte : do not you think it to be very- 
 engaging? 
 
 Cieo. Yes, to one that loves his belly ; for it is very copi- 
 ous in the art of cookery, and every thing that belongs to 
 eating and drinking. 
 
 Hor. But without banter, do not you think that the 
 French tongue is more proper, more fit to perfuade in, than 
 ours ? 
 
 Cieo. To coax and wheedle in, I believe it may. 
 
 Hor. 1 cannot conceive what nicety it is you aim at, in 
 that distinction. 
 
 Cieo. The word you named includes no idea of reproach 
 or disparagement ; the greater! capacities may, without dis- 
 credit to them, yield to perSuaiion, as well as the lea ft ; but 
 thoSe who .can be gamed by coaxing and wheedling, are 
 commonly Suppofed to be perSons of mean parts and weak 
 understandings. 
 
 Hor. But pray come to the point : which of the two do» 
 you take to be the finer! language ? 
 
 Cieo. That is hard to determine : Nothing is more difficult 
 than to compare the beauties of two languages together, be- 
 caufe what is very much esteemed in the one, is often not 
 relifhed at all in the other : In this point, the Palchrum i$ 
 Homjlum varies, and is different every where, as the genius 
 of the people differs. I do not Set up for a judge, but what 
 1 have commonly obferved in the two languages, is this : All 
 favourite expreflions in French, are fuch as either footh or 
 tickle ; and nothing is more admired in Englifh than what 
 pierces or Strikes. 
 
 Hor. Do you take yourfelf to be entirely impartial now ? 
 
 Cieo. I think So ; but if I am not, I do not know how to 
 be forry for it : There are Some things in which it is the in- 
 tereft of the Society that men fhould be biaffed; and I do 
 not think it amiSs, that men Should be inclined to love their 
 own language, from the fame principle that they love their 
 country. The French call us barbarous, and we fay they 
 are fawning : I will not believe the firft, let them believe 
 what they pleaSe. Do you remember the fix lines in the 
 
47^ THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cid, which Corneille is faid to have had a prefent of fix thou- 
 fand livres for ? 
 Hor. Very well. 
 
 Mon Pere eft mort, Elvire, & la premiere Efpee 
 Dont s'eft arme RoJrigue a fa trame coupee. 
 Pleures, p^ures mes yeux, & fondes vous ea eau, 
 La moitie de ma vie a mis i'autre autom>eau j 
 Et m 'oblige a vender, apres ce coupfunefte, 
 Cell qui je n'ay plus fur celle qui me refte. 
 
 Cko. The fame thought expreffed in our language, to all 
 the advantage it has in the French, would be hhTed by an 
 Engliih audience. 
 
 Hor. That is no compliment to the tafte of your country. 
 
 Cko. I do not know that: Men may have no bad tafte, 
 and yet not be fo ready at conceiving, which way one half 
 of one's life can put the other into the grave : To me, I own 
 it is puzzling, and it has too much the air of a riddle to be 
 feen in heroic poetry. 
 
 Hor. Can you find no delicacy at all ill the thought ? 
 
 Cleo. Yes ; but it is too fine fpun ; it is the delicacy of a 
 cobweb; there is no ftrength in it. 
 
 Hor. I have always admired thefe lines ; but now you 
 have made me out of conceit with them : Methinks 1 ipy 
 another fault that is much greater. 
 
 Cleo. What is that ? 
 
 Hor. The author makes his heroine fay a thing which was 
 falfe in fact : One half, fays Chimene, of my life has put the 
 other into the grave, and obliges me to revenge, &c. Which 
 is the nominative of the verb obliges ? 
 
 Cko. One half of my life. 
 
 Hor. Here lies the fault ; it is this, which I think is not 
 true ; for the one half of her life, here mentioned, is plainly 
 that half which was left; it is Rodrigues her lover : Which 
 way did he oblige her to feek for revenge ? 
 
 Cleo. By what he had done, killing her father. 
 
 Hor. No, Cleomenes, this excufe is infufficient. Chi- 
 mene's calamity fprung from the dilemma fhe was in be- 
 tween her love and her duty ; when the latter was inexor- 
 able, and violently preffing her to folicit the punifhment, 
 and employ with zeal all her intereft and eloquence to ob- 
 tain the death of him, whom the fir ft had made dearer to 
 her than her own life $ and therefore it was the half that 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 477 
 
 was gone, that was put in the grave, her dead father, and 
 not Rodrigues which obliged her to fue for juttice : Had the 
 obligation fhe lay under come from this quarter, it might 
 foon have been cancelled, and herfelf releafed without cry- 
 ing out her eyes. 
 
 Cleo. I beg pardon for differing from you, but I believe 
 the poet is in the right. 
 
 Hor. Pray, confider which it was that made Chimene pro- 
 fecute Rodrigues, love, or honour. 
 
 Cleo. I do ; but ftill I cannot help thinking, but that her 
 lover, by having killed her father, obliged Chimene to pro- 
 fecute him, in the fame manner as a man, who will give no 
 fatisfaction to his creditors, obliges them to arrett him 5 or as 
 we would fay to a coxcomb, who is offending us with his 
 difcourfe, If you go on thus, Sir, you will oblige me to treat 
 you ill : Though all this while the debtor might be as little 
 defirous of being arretted, and the coxcomb of being ill 
 treated, as Rodrigues was of being profecuted. 
 
 Hor. 1 believe you are in the right, and 1 beg Corneille's 
 pardon. But now 1 defire you would tell me what you have 
 further to fay of fociety : What other advantages do multi- 
 tudes receive from the invention of letters, beiides the im- 
 provements it makes in their laws and language ? 
 
 Cleo, It is an encouragement to all other inventions in ge- 
 neral, by preferving the knowledge of every ufeful improve- 
 ment that is made. When laws begin to be well known, 
 and the execution of them is facilitated by general approba- 
 tion, multitudes may be kept in tolerable concord among 
 themfelves : It is then that it appears, and not before, how 
 much the fuperiority of man's underttanding beyond other 
 animals, contributes to his fociablenefs, which is only retard- 
 ed by it in his favage ftate. 
 
 Hor. How fo, pi ay ; 1 do not underftand you. 
 
 Cleo, The fuperiority of underttanding, in the firft place, 
 makes man fooner fenlible of grief and joy, and capable of 
 entertaining either with greater difference as to the degrees, 
 than they are felt in other creatures : Secondly, it renders 
 him more induttrious to pleafe himfelf; that is, it furmfhes 
 felf-love with a greater variety of flints to exert itfelf on all 
 emergencies, than is made ufe of by animals of lefs capacity. 
 Superiority of underttanding like wife gives us a forcligttt, 
 and infpires us with hopes, of which other creatures have lit- 
 tle, and that only of things immediately beiore them. All 
 
47$ 3~HE SIXTH dialogue; 
 
 thefe things are fo many tools, arguments, by which felf-love 
 reafons us into content, and renders us patient under many 
 afm&ions, for the fake of fupplyingthofe wants that are moft 
 preffing.: this is of infinite ufe to a man, who finds himfelf 
 born in a body politic, and it muft make him fond of fociety ; 
 whereas, the fame endowment before that time, the fame fu- 
 periority of underftanding in the ftate of nature, can only 
 ferve to render man incurably averfe to fociety, and more 
 ©bftinately tenacious of his favage liberty, than any other 
 creature would be, that is equally neceffitous. 
 
 Hor. I do not know how to refute you : there is a jufrnefs 
 of thought in what you fay, which 1 am forced to affent to ; 
 and yet it feems flrange : How come you by this inllght in- 
 to the heart of man, and which way is that ikill of unravel- 
 ling human nature to be obtained ? 
 
 Geo. By diligently obferving what excellencies and qua- 
 lifications are really acquired in a well-accomplifhed man ; 
 and having done this impartially, we may be fure that the re- 
 mainder of him is nature. It is for want of duly feparating 
 and keeping aflunder thefe two things, that men have utter- 
 ed fuch abiurdities on this fubjecl ; alleging as the caufes of 
 man's fitnefs for fociety, fuch qualifications as no man ever 
 was endued with, that was not educated in a fociety, a civil 
 eitabliihment, of feveral hundred years Handing. But the 
 flatterers ofourfpecies keep this carefully from our view : 
 irift ead of feparating what is acquired from what is natural, 
 and diilinguiming between them, they take pains to unite 
 and confound them together. 
 
 Hor. Why do they ? I do not fee the compliment ; iince 
 the acquired, as well as natural parts, belong to the fame per- 
 fon ; and the one is not more mfeparable from him than the 
 other. 
 
 Geo. Nothing is fo near to a man, nor fo really and entire- 
 ly his own, as what he has from nature ; and when that dear 
 f If, for the fake of which he values or defpifes, loves or hates 
 every thing elfe, comes to be ilript and abitracted from all 
 foreign acquintions, human nature makes a poor figure : it 
 fhows a nakednefs, or at lead an undrefs, wmich no man cares 
 to be feen in. There is nothing we can be porTerTed of that 
 is worth having, which we do not endeavour, clofely to an- 
 nex, and make an ornament of to ourfelves ; even wealth 
 and power, and all the gifts of fortune, that are plainly ad- 
 ventitious, and altogether remote from our perfons ; whilft 
 
3THE SIXTH DIALOGUE 47f. 
 
 they are our right and property, we do not love to be confr- 
 dered without them. We fee likewife that men, who are 
 come to be great in the world from defpicable beginnings, 
 do not love to hear of their origin. 
 
 Hor. That is no general rule. 
 
 Cleo. I believe it is, though there may be exceptions from 
 it; and thefe are not without reafons. When a man is- proud 
 of his parts, and wants to be efteemed for his diligence, pene- 
 tration, quicknels and affiduity, he will make perhaps an in- 
 genuous confefhon, even to the expofing of his parents ; and 
 in order to fet off the merit that raifed him, befpeaking hiirr- 
 felf of his original meannefs. But this is commonly done 
 before inferiors, whofe envy will be lefTened by it, and who 
 will applaud his candour and humility in owning this blemifh: 
 but not a word of this before his betters, who value them- 
 felves upon their families ; and fuch men could heartily wiffi 
 that their parentage was unknown, whenever they are with 
 thofe that are their equals in quality, though fuperior to them 
 in birth; by whom they know that they are hated for their 
 advancement, and defpifed for the lownefs of their extrac- 
 tion. But I have a ihorter way of proving my aflertion. 
 Pray, is it good manners to tell a man that he is meanly 
 born, or to hint at his defcent, when it is known, to be vul- 
 gar? 
 
 Hor. No : I do not fay it is. 
 
 Cleo. That decides it, by fhowing the general opinion 
 about it. Noble anceftors, and every thing elfe that his ho- 
 nourable and eileemed, and can be drawn within our fphere, 
 are an advantage to our perfons, and we all delire they 
 fhould be looked upon as our own. 
 
 Hor. Ovid did not think fo, when he faid, Nam genus £jf 
 proavos i& qua nonfecimus ipji, vix ea nojlra voco. 
 
 Cleo. A pretty piece of modeity in a fpeech, where a man 
 takes pains to prove that Jupiter was his great grandfather. 
 What iignifies a theory, which a man deftroys by his pra&ice? 
 Did you ever know a perfon of quality pleated with being 
 called a baftard, though he owed his being, as well as his 
 greatnefs, chiefly to his mother's impudicity. 
 
 Hor. By things acquired, I thought you meant learning 
 and virtue ; how come yuu to talk of birth and deicent ? 
 
 Cleo. By fhowing you, that men are unwilling to have any 
 thing that is honourable feparatea from themfelves, though it . 
 is remote from, and has nothing to do with their perfons : I 
 
4&0 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 would convince you of the little probability there is, that 
 we fhould be pleafed with being confidered, abftract from 
 what really belongs to us ; and qualifications, that in the 
 opinion of the belt and wifeft are the only things for which 
 we ought to be valued. When men are well- accompli (lied, 
 they are afhamed of the loweft Heps from which they rofe to 
 that perfection; and the more civilized they are, the more 
 they think it injurious to have their nature feen, without the 
 improvements that have been made upon it. The moll cor- 
 rect authors would bluili to fee every thing publifned, which 
 in the compofing of their works they blotted out and (lifted ; 
 and which yet it it is certain they once conceived : for this 
 reafon they arejuftly compared to architects, that remove 
 the fcafroiding before they mow their buildings. All orna- 
 ments befpeak the value we have for the things adorned. 
 Do not you think, that the firft red or white that ever was 
 laid upon a face, and the firft falfe hair that w r as wore, were 
 put on with great fecrecy, and with a defign to deceive ? 
 
 Hor. In France, painting is now looked upon as part of a 
 woman's drefs ; they make no myftery of it. 
 
 Cleo. So it is with all the impolitions of this nature, when 
 they come to be fo grofs that they can be hid no longer ; as 
 men's perukes all over Europe : but if thefe things could be 
 concealed, and were not known, the tawny coquette would 
 heartily with that the ridiculous dawbing fhe plafters her- 
 felf with might pafs for complexion ; and the bald-pated 
 beau would be as glad to have his full-bottomed wig looked 
 upon as a natural head of hair. Nobody puts in artificial 
 teeth, but to hide the lofs of his own. 
 
 Hor. But is not a man's knowledge a real part of himfelf ? 
 Geo. Yes, and fo is bis politenefs ; but neither of them be- 
 long to his nature, any more than his gold v atch cr his dia- 
 mond ring; and even from thefe he endeavours to draw a 
 value and refpecl to his perfon. The moll admired among 
 the fafhionable people that delight in outward vanity, and 
 know how to cl.eis well, would be highly difpleafed if their 
 clothes, and ikill in putting them on, fhould be looked upon 
 otherwife than as part of themfelves ; nay, it is this part of 
 them ciiiy, which, whilit they are unknown, can procure 
 them accefs to the higher! companies, the courts of princes ; 
 where it is manifeft, that both fexes are either admitted or 
 refafed, by no other judgment than what is formed of them 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 48 1 
 
 from their drefs, without the lead regard to their goodnefs, 
 'or their understanding. 
 
 Hor. I believe I apprehend you. It is our fondnefs of 
 that felf, which we hardly know what it confifls in, that 
 could firft make us think of embellifhing ourperfons; and 
 when we have taken pains in correcting, polifking, and 
 beautifying nature, the fame felf-love makes us unwilling to 
 have the ornaments feen feparately from the thing adorned. 
 
 Cko. The reafon is obvious. It is that felf we are in love 
 with, before it is adorned, as well as after, and every thing 
 which is confeffed to be acquired, feems to point at our ori- 
 ginal nakednefs, and to upbraid us with our natural wants ; 
 I would fay, the meannefs and deficiency of our nature. 
 That no bravery is fo ufeful in war, as that which is artifi- 
 cial, is undeniable; yet the foldier, that by art and difcipline 
 has manifestly been tricked and wheedled into courage, after 
 he has behaved himfelf in two or three battles with intrepi- 
 dity, will never endure to hear that he has not natural va- 
 lour ; though all his acquaintance, as well as himfelf, remem- 
 ber the time that he was an arrant coward. 
 
 Hor. But fmce the love, affection, and benevolence we 
 naturally have for our fpecies, is not greater than other crea- 
 tures have for theirs, how comes it, that man gives more am- 
 ple demonstrations of this love on thoufand occalions, than 
 any other animal ? 
 
 Cko. Becaufe no other animal has the fame capacity or 
 opportunity to do it. But you may afk the fame of his 
 hatred : the greater knowledge and the more wealth and 
 power a man has, the more capable he is of rendering others 
 fennble of the paffion he is affected with, as well when he 
 hates as when he loves them. The more a man remains un- 
 civilized, and the lefs he is removed from the It ate of nature, 
 the lefs his love is to be depended, upon. 
 
 Hor. There is more honefty and lefs deceit among plain, 
 untaught people, than their is among thofe that are more 
 artful ; and therefore I mould have looked for true love and 
 unfeigned affection among thofe that live in a natural fim- 
 plicity, rather than any where elfe. 
 
 Cko. You fpeak of fincerity ; but the love which I faid 
 was lefs to be dependend upon in untaught than in civi- 
 lized people, I fuppofed to be real and fmcere in both. Art- 
 ful people may diffenrble love, and pretend to friendfhip, 
 where they have none ; but they are influenced by their 
 I i 
 
4§ 2. THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 painons and natural appetites as well as favages, though 
 they gratify them in another manner: well-bred people 
 behave themfelves in the choice of diet and the taking of 
 their repafls, very differently from favages ; fo they do in 
 their amours ; but hunger and hut are the fame in both. 
 An artful man, nay, the greater! hypocrite, whatever his be- 
 haviour is abroad, may love his wife and children at his 
 heart, and the fincererl man can do no more. My bufinefs 
 is to demonftrate to you, that the good qualities men com- 
 pliment our nature and the whole fpecies with, are the re- 
 mit of art and education. The rtafon why love is little to 
 be depended upon in thofe that are uncivilized, is becaufe 
 the paliions in them are more fleeting and inconftant ; they 
 oftener joftle out and fucceed one another, than they are and ' 
 do in well-bred people, perfons that are well educated, have 
 learned to fludy their eafe and the comforts of life ; to tie 
 themfelves up to rules and decorums for their own advantage, 
 and often to fubmit to fmall inconveniencies to avoid greater. 
 Among the loweit vulgar, and thofe of the meaner! educa- 
 tion of all, you feldom fee a lading harmony : you fhall have 
 a man and his wife that have a real affection for one another, 
 be full of love one hour, and difagree the next for a trifle ; 
 and the lives of many are made miferable from no other 
 faults in themfelves, than their want of manners and difcre- 
 tion. Without defign they will often talk imprudently, un- 
 til they raife one another's anger ; which neither of them 
 being able to flifle, ilie fcolds at him; he beats her; fhe 
 burrts out into tears ; this moves him, he is forry ; both re- 
 pent, and are friends again : and with all the iincerity ima- 
 ginable reiblve never to quarrel for the future, as long as 
 they live : all this will pafs between them in lefs than half a 
 day, and will perhaps be repeated once a month, or oftener, 
 as provocations offer, or either of them is more or lefs prone 
 to anger. Affection never remained long uninterrupted be- 
 tween two perfons without art; and the belt friends, if they 
 are always together, will fail out, unlefs great difcretion be 
 ufed on both fides. 
 
 Hor. 1 have always been of your opinion, that the more 
 men were civilized the happier they were ; but lince nations 
 can never be made polite but by length of time, and man- 
 kind muff have "been always miferable before they had writ- 
 ten laws, how come poets and others to launch out io much 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE, 483 
 
 in praife of the golden age, in which they pretend there was 
 fo much peace, love, and fincerity ? 
 
 Cko. For the fame reafon that heralds compliment ob- 
 fcure men of unknown extraction with illuftrious pedigrees : 
 as there is no mortal of high defcent, but who values himfelf 
 upon his family, fo extolling the virtue and happinefs of their 
 ancestors, can never fail pleafing every member oKafociety : 
 but what ftrefs would you lay upon the fictions of poets ? 
 
 Hon. You reafon very clearly, and with great freedom, 
 againit all heathen fuperfiition, and never fuller yourfelf to 
 be impofed upon by any fraud from that quarter; but when 
 you meet with any thing belonging to the Jewifh or Chrif- 
 tian religion, you are as credulous as any of the vulgar. 
 
 Cko. I am forry you mould think fo. 
 
 Hor. What I fay is fa6t. A man that contentedly fwal- 
 lows every thing that is faid of Noah and his ark, ought not 
 to laugh at the ftory of Deucalion and Pyrrha. 
 
 Cko. Is it as credible, that human creatures mould fpring 
 from Hones, becaufe an old man and his wife threw them 
 over their heads, as that a man and his family, with a great 
 number of birds and beads, mould be preferved in a large 
 fkip, made convenient for that purpofe ? 
 
 Hor. But you are partial : what odd« is there between a 
 Hone and a lump of earth, for either of them to become a 
 human creature ? I can as ealily conceive how a itone mould 
 be turned into a man or a woman, as how a man or a woman 
 fhould be turned into a ftone ; and I think it not more 
 flrange, that a woman mould be changed into a tree, as was 
 •D.aphne, or into marble as Niobe, than that ihe ihould be 
 transformed into a pillar of fait, as the wife of Lot was. Pray 
 fufFer me to catechife you a little. 
 
 Cko. You will hear me afterwards, I hope. 
 
 Hor. Yes, yes. Do you believe Heiiod? 
 
 Cko. No. 
 
 Hor. Ovid's Metamorphofis ? 
 
 Cko. No. 
 
 Hor. But you believe the ftory of Adam and Eve, and 
 Paradife. 
 
 Cko. Yes. 
 
 Hor. That they were produced at once, I mean at their full 
 growth; he from a lump of earth, and ihe from one of hi? 
 ribs? 
 
 Cko. Yes, 
 
 I i af 
 
4*4 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. And that as foon as they were made, they could 
 fpeak, reafon, and were endued with knowledge ? 
 
 Cleo. Yes. 
 
 Hor. In fhort, you believe the innocence, the delight, and 
 all the wonders of Paradife, that are related by one man ; at 
 the fame time that you will not believe what has been told us 
 by many, of the uprightnefs, the concord, and the happi- 
 nefs of a golden age. 
 
 Cleo. That is very true. 
 
 Hor. Now give me leave to mow you, how unaccountable, 
 as well as partial, you are in this. In the firft place, the 
 things naturally impoinble, which you believe, are contrary 
 to your own doctrine, the opinion you have laid down, and 
 which I believe to be true : for you have proved, that no 
 man would ever be able to fpeak, unlefs he was taught it ; 
 that reafoning and thinking come upon us by flow degrees ; 
 and that we can know nothing that has not from without 
 been conveyed to the brain, and communicated to us through 
 the organs of the fenfes. Secondly, in what you reject as 
 fabulous, there is no manner of improbability. We know 
 from hiftory, and daily experience teaches us, that almoft all 
 the wars and private quarrels that have at any time difturb- 
 ed mankind, have had their rife from the differences about 
 fuperiority, and the meum \3 tuum : therefore before cunning, 
 covetoufneis and deceit, crept into the world ; before titles of 
 honour, and the diitinction between fervant and mailer were 
 known ; why might not moderate numbers of people have 
 lived together in peace and amity, when thty enjoyed every 
 thing in common ; and have been content with the product 
 of the earth in a fertile foil and a happy climate ? Why can- 
 not you believe this ? 
 
 Cleo. Becaufe it is inconfiftent with the nature of human 
 creatures, that any number of them ihould ever live together 
 in tolerable concord, without laws or government, let the 
 foil, the climate, and their plenty be whatever the moil luxu- 
 riant imagination ihall be pleafed to fancy them. But Adam 
 was altogether the workmanikip of God; a preternatural 
 production : his fpeech and knowledge, his goodnetsand life 
 nocence were as miraculous, as every other part of his frame. : 
 
 Hor, Indeed, Cleomenes, this is infurrerable ; vhen we 
 are talking philofophy you foiil in miracles : why may not 
 I do the fame, and lay that the people of the golden age we re- 
 made happy by miracle ? 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 485 
 
 Cleo. It is more probable that one miracle mould, at a 
 ftated time, have produced a male and female, from whom 
 all the reft of mankind are defcended in a natural way ; than 
 that by a continued feries of miracles feveral generations of 
 people mould have all been made to live and act contrary to 
 their natme : for this muft follow from the account we have 
 of the golden and fiiver ages. In Mofes, the ftrft natural man, 
 the firft that, was born of a woman, by envving and flaying 
 his brother, gives an ample evidence of the domineering fpi- 
 rir, and the principle of fovereignty, which I have afferted to 
 belong to our nature. 
 
 Hor. You will not be counted credulous, and yet you be- 
 lieve all thofe ftories, which even fome of our divines have 
 called ridiculous, if literally underftood. But I do not infill 
 upon the golden age, if you will give up Paradife : a man of 
 fenfe, and a philofopher, ihould believe neither. 
 
 Cleo. Yet you have told me that you believed the Old and 
 New Teftament. 
 
 Hor. I never faid that I believed every thing that is in 
 them, in a literal fenfe. But why mould you believe mira- 
 cles at all ? 
 
 Cleo. Becaufe I cannot help it : and I promife never to 
 mention the name to you again, if you can mow me the bare 
 poffibility that man could ever have been produced, brought 
 into the world without miracle. Do you believe there ever 
 was a man who had made himfelf ? 
 
 Hor. No : that is a plain contradiction. 
 
 Cleo. Then it is manifeft the fifft man mud have been 
 made by fomething ; and what I fay of man, I may fay of 
 all matter and motion in general. The doclrinc of Epicurus, 
 that every thing is derived from the concourfe and fortuitous 
 jumble of atoms, is monftrous and extravagant beyond all 
 other follies. 
 
 Hor, Yet there is no mathematical demonftration againftit. 
 
 Cleo. Nor is there one to prove, that the fun is not in love 
 with the moon, if one had a mind to advance it; and yet I 
 think it a greater reproach to human underftanding to be- 
 lieve either, than it is to believe the moil childim ftories that 
 are told of fairies and hobgoblins. 
 
 Hor. But there is an axiom very little inferior to a mathe- 
 matical demonftration, ex nihilo nihil fit, that is directly claih-* 
 ing with, and contradicts the creation out of nothing. Do 
 vou underftand how fomething can come from nothing ? 
 
 Ji3 
 
48S THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. I do not, I confefs, any more than I can comprehend 
 eternity, or the Deity itfelf : but when I cannot comprehend 
 what my reafon allures me muft neceffarily exift, there is no 
 axiom or demonstration clearer to me, than that the fault lies 
 in my want of capacity, the iliailownefs of my underflanding. 
 From the little we know of the fun and (tars, their magni- 
 tudes, diltances, and motion ; and what we are more nearly 
 acquainted with, the grofs vilible parts in the ftructure of 
 animals and their economy, it is demonftrable, that they are 
 the effects of an intelligent caufe, and the contrivance of a 
 Being infinite in wifdom as well as power. 
 
 Hor. But let wifdom be as fuperlative, and power as ex- 
 tenfive as it is poffible for them to be, ftill it is impofhble to 
 conceive how they mould exert themfelves, unlefs they had 
 fomething to acl upon. 
 
 Cleo, This is not the only thing which, though it be true, 
 we are not able to conceive : How came the firft man to 
 exift? and yet here we are. Heat and moifiure are the plain 
 effecls from manifeft caufes, and though they bear a great 
 fway, even in the mineral as well as the animal and vege- 
 table world, yet they cannot produce a fprig of grafs with- 
 out a previous feed. 
 
 Hor. As we ourfelves, and every thing we fee, are the 
 undoubted parts of fome one whole, fome are of opinion, 
 that this all, the w 5r«v, the univerfe, was from all eternity. 
 
 Cleo. This is not more fatisfactory or comprehenhble than 
 the iyftem of Epicurus, who derives every thing from wild 
 chance, and an undehgned druggie of fenfelefs atoms. When 
 we behold things which our reafon tells us could not have 
 been produccfi without wifdom and power, in a degree far 
 beyond our comprehennon, can any thing be more contrary 
 to, or clafhing with that fame reafon, than that the things 
 in which that high wifdom and great power are vifibly dis- 
 played, mould be coeval *with the wifdom and power them- 
 felves that contrived and wrought them ? Yet this doctrine 
 which is. fpinofifm in epitome, after having been neglecled 
 many years, begins to prevail again, and the atoms lofe 
 ground : for of atheifm, as well as fuperftition, there are 
 different kinds that have their periods and returns, after they 
 have been long exploded. 
 
 Hor. What makes you couple together two things fo dia- I 
 metrically oppofite ? 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 487 
 
 Cleo. There is greater affinity between them than you 
 imagine : they are of the fame origin. 
 
 Hor. What, atheifm and fuperflition ! 
 
 Cleo. Yes, indeed ; they both have their rife from the 
 fame caufe, the fame defect in the mind, of man, our want 
 of capacity in difcerning truth, and natural ignorance of the 
 Divine eifence. Men that from their moil early youth have 
 not been imbued with the principles of the true religjon, and 
 have not afterwards continued to be ftriclly educated in the 
 fame, are all in great danger of falling either into the one or 
 the other, according to the difference there is in the tempe- 
 rament and complexion they are of, -the circumftances they 
 are in, and the company they converfe with. Weak minds, 
 and thofe that are brought up in ignorance, and a low con- 
 dition, fuch as are much expofed to fortune, men of flaviHi 
 principles, the covetous and mean-fpirited, are all naturally 
 inclined to, and eafily fufceptible of fuperflition ; and there 
 is no abfurdity fo grofs, nor contradiction fo plain, which 
 the dregs of the people, moil gameflers, and nineteen women 
 in twenty, may not be taught to believe, concerning invi- 
 fible caufes. Therefore multitudes are never tainted with 
 irreligion ; and the lefs civilized nations are, the more 
 boundlefs is their credulity. On the contrary, men of . -r:s 
 and fpirit, of thought and reflection, the aflertors of liberty, 
 fuch as meddle with mathematics and natural philofophy, 
 mod inquifitive men, the ditinterefted that live in eafe and 
 plenty ; if their youth has been neglected, and they are not 
 well-grounded in the principles of the true religion, are 
 prone to infidelity; efpecialiy fuch amonglt them, whofe 
 pride and fufficiency are greater than ordinary ; and if per- 
 fons of this fort fall into hands of unbelievers, they run great 
 hazard of becoming atheifls or fceptics. 
 
 Hor. The method of education you recommend, in pin- 
 ning men down to an opinion, may be very good to make 
 bigots, and raife a flrong party to the prieits ; but to have 
 good fubjects, and moral men, nothing is better than to in- 
 fpire youth with the love of virtue, and llrongly to imbue 
 them with fentiments of juitice and probity, and the true 
 notions of honour and politenefs. Thefe are the true fpeci- 
 lics to cure man's nature, and deflroy in him the favage 
 principles of fovereignty and felfifhnefs, that infeil and are 
 h mifchievous to it. As to religious matters, prepoiiefTing 
 the mind, and forcing youth inio a belief, is more pai 
 
 Ii 4 
 
4ob THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 and unfair, than it is to leave them unbiaffed, and unpreju- 
 diced till they come to maturity, and are fit to judge as well 
 as choofe for themfelves. 
 
 Cleo. It is this fair and impartial management you fpeak in 
 praife of, that will ever promote and increafe unbelief ; and 
 nothing has contributed more to the growth of deifm in this 
 kingdom, than the remifTnefs of education in facred matters, 
 which for forne time has been in fafhion among the better 
 fort. 
 
 Hor. The public welfare ought to be our principal care ; 
 and I am well aflured, that it is not bigotry to a feci: or per- 
 fuafion ; but common honefty, uprightnefs in all dealings, 
 and benevolence to one another, which the fociety Hands 
 moli in need of. 
 
 Cleo. I do not fpeak up for bigotry ; and where the Chrif- 
 tian religion is thoroughly taught as it mould be, it is impof- 
 fible, that honefty, uprightnefs, or benevolence mould ever 
 be forgot ; and no appearances of thofe virtues are to be 
 trutted to, unlefs they proceed from that motive ; for with- 
 out the belief of another world, a man is under no obligation 
 for his lincerity in this : his very oath is no tie upon him. 
 
 Hor. What is it upon an hypocrite that dares to be per- 
 jured ? 
 
 Cleo. No man's oath is ever taken, if it is known that once 
 he has been forfworn ; nor can I ever be deceived by an hy- 
 pocrite, when he tells me that he is one ; and I fhall never 
 believe a man to be an atheitt, unlefs he owns it himfelf. 
 
 Hor. I do not believe there arereal atheifts in the world. 
 
 Cleo. I will not quarrel about words ; but our modern 
 deifm is no greater fecurity than atheifm : for a man's ac- 
 knowleding the being of a God, even an intelligent firfl 
 Caufe, is of no ufe, either to himfelf or others, if he denies 
 a Providence and a future ftate. 
 
 Hor. After all, I do not think that virtue has any more 
 relation to credulity, than it has to want of faith. 
 
 Cleo. Yet it would and ought to have, if we were confiit- 
 ent with ourfelves ; and if men w T ere fwayed in their actions 
 by the principles they fide with, and the opinion they pro- 
 fefs themfelves to be of, all atheifts would be devils, and 
 fuperftitious men faints : but this is not true; there are atheifts 
 of good morals, and great villains fuperllitious : nay, I do 
 not believe there is any wickednefs that the word atheifl can 
 commit, but fuperllitious men may be guilty of it ; impiety 
 4 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 489 
 
 not excepted ; for nothing is more common amongft rakes 
 and gamefters, than to hear men blaipheme, that be 1 ! eve in. 
 fpirits, and are afraid of the devil. I have no greater opi- 
 nion of fuperftition than I have of atheifm ; what I aimed at, 
 was to prevent and guard againft both ; and 1 am periuaded 
 that there is no other antidote to be obtained by human 
 means, fo powerful and infallible againft the pouon of either, 
 as what I have mentioned. As to the truth of our defcent 
 from Adam, I would not be a believer, and ceaie to be a 
 rational creature : what I have to fay for it, -is this. We ;* re- 
 convinced that human underftanding is limited ; and b he 
 help of every little reflection, we may be as certain that the 
 narrownefs of its bounds, its being fo limited, is the very 
 thing, the fole caufe, which palpably hinders us from diving 
 into our origin by dint of penetration : the confequence is, 
 that to come at the truth of this origin, which is of very 
 great concern to us, fomething is to be believed : but what 
 or whom to believe is the queition. If I cannot demonftri i 
 to you that Mofes was divinely infpired, you will" be fo: ed 
 to confefs, that there never was any thing more extraordi- 
 nary in the world, than that, in a mofl fuperititious age, one 
 man brought up among the groneft idolaters, that had the 
 vileft and moil abominable notions of the Godhead, mould, 
 without help, as we know of, find out the moth hidden and 
 mod important truths by his natural capacity only ; for, t .- 
 fides the deep infight he had in human nature, as appears 
 from the decalogue, it is manifeft that he was acquainted 
 with the creation out of nothing, the unity and immenfe 
 greatnefs of that Invifible Power that has made the univeue ; 
 and that he taught this to the Ifraelites, fifteen centuries be- 
 fore any other nation upon earth was fo far enlightened : it is 
 undeniable, moreover, that the hiitory of Mofes, concerning 
 the beginning of the world and mankind, is the moil ancient 
 and leait improbable of any that are extant ; that others, who 
 have wrote after him on the fame fubjecl, appear molt of 
 them to be imperfect copiers of him ; and that the relations 
 which feem not to have been borrowed from Mofes, as the 
 accounts we have of Sommona-codam, Confucius, and others, 
 are lefs rational, and fifty times more extravagant and in- 
 credible, than any thing contained in the Pentateuch. As 
 to the things revealed, the plan itfelf, abitract from faith 
 and religion ; when we have weighed every fyftem that has 
 been advanced, we ihall find \ that, fince we mult have had 
 
4gO THE SIXTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 a beginning, nothing is more rational or more agreeable to 
 good fenfe, than to derive our origin from an incomprehen- 
 fible creative Power, that was the nrft Mover and Author 
 of all things. 
 
 Hor. I never heard any body entertain higher notions, or 
 more noble fentiments of the Deity, than at different times 
 I have heard from you ; pray, when you read Mofes, do 
 not you meet with feveral things in the economy of Paradife, 
 and the converfation between God and Adam, that feem to 
 be low, unworthy, and altogether mconfiftent with the fu- 
 blime ideas you are ufed to form of the Supreme Being. 
 
 Cko. I freely own, not only that I have thought fo, but 
 likewife that I have long Humbled at it : but when I coniider, 
 on the one hand, that the more human knowledge increafes, 
 the mot*e confummate and unerring the Divine Wifdom ap- 
 pears to be, in every thing we can have any iniight into ; 
 and on the other, that the things hitherto detected, either 
 by chance or induftry, are very inconiiderable both" in num- 
 ber and value, if compared to the vaft multitude of weighti- 
 er matters that are left behind and remain ftill undiicover- 
 ed : When, I fay, I coniider thefe things, I cannot help 
 thinking, that there may be very wife reafons for what we 
 find fault with, that are, and perhaps ever will be, unknown 
 to men as long the world endures. 
 
 Hor. But why mould he remain labouring under difficul- 
 ties we can ealily folve, and not fay with Dr. Burnet, and 
 feveral others, that thofe things are allegories, and to be un- 
 derftood in a figurative fenfe ? 
 
 Cko. I have nothing againft it ; and mall always applaud 
 the ingenuity and good offices of men, who endeavour to 
 reconcile religious myfteries to human reafon and probability; 
 but I infill upon it, that nobody can difprove any thing that 
 is faid in the Pentateuch, in the moil literal fenfe ; and I de- 
 fy the wit of man to frame or contrive a ilory, the bed con- 
 certed fable they can invent, how man came into the world, 
 which 1 fhall not find as much fault with, and be able to 
 make as flrong objections to, as the enemies of religion have 
 found with, and raifed againft the account of Mofes : If I 
 may be allowed to take the fame liberty with their known 
 forgery, which they take with the Bible, before they have 
 brought one argument againft the veracity of it. 
 
 Hur. It may be fo. But as firfc I was the occafion of this 
 long digreiiion, by mentioning the golden age ; fo now, I 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 49 1 
 
 defire we may return to our fubjecl. What time, how many- 
 ages do you think it would require to have a well- civilized 
 nation from fuch a favage pair as yours? 
 
 Cleo. That is very uncertain ; and I believe it impoffible, 
 to determine any thing about it. From what has been faid, 
 it is manifeft, that the family defcending from fuch a flock, 
 would be crumbled to pieces, reunited, and difperfed again 
 feveral times, before the whole of any part of it could be ad- 
 vanced to any degree of politenefs. The bed forms of go- 
 vernment are fubject to revolutions, and a great many things 
 mufl concur to keep a fociety of men together, till they be- 
 come a civilized nation. 
 
 Hor. Is not a vaft deal owing, in the railing of a nation, 
 to the difference there is in the fpirit and genius of people ? 
 
 Cleo. Nothing, but what depends upon climates, which is 
 foon over-balanced by fkilful government. Courage and 
 cowardice, in all bodies of men, depend entirely upon exer- 
 cife and difcipline. Arts and fciences feldom come before 
 riches, and both flow in fafler or flower, according to the ca- 
 pacity of the governors, the fituation of the people, and the 
 opportunities they have of improvements; but the firit is the 
 chief: to preferve peace and tranquillity among multitudes of 
 different views, and make them all labour for one intereft, is 
 a great talk ; and nothing in human affairs requires greater 
 knowledge, than the art of governing. 
 
 Hor. According to your fyftem, it mould be little more, 
 than guarding againft human nature. 
 
 Cleo. But it is a great while before that nature can be 
 rightly underftood ; and it is the work of ages to find out 
 the true ufe of the paffions, and to raife a politician that can 
 make every frailty of the members add ftrength to the whole 
 body, and by dextrous management turn private Vices into 
 public Benefits. 
 
 Hor. It mufl be a great advantage to an age, when many 
 extraordinary perfons are born m it. 
 
 Cleo. It is not genius, fo much as experience, that helps 
 men to good laws : Solon, Lycurgus, Socrates and Plato, all 
 travelled for their knowledge, which they communicated to 
 others. The wifeft laws of human invention are generally 
 owing to the evalions of bad men, whofe cunning had eluded 
 the force of former ordinances that had been made with lefs 
 caution. 
 
49 2 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. I fancy that the invention of iron, and working the 
 oar into a metal, mult contribute very much to the com- 
 pleting of fociety ; becaufe men can have no tools nor agri- 
 culture without it. 
 
 Cleo. Iron is certainly very ufeful; but fhells and rlints, and 
 hardening of wood by fire, are fubftitutes that men make a 
 fliift with; if they can but have peace, live in quiet, and enjoy 
 the fruits of their labour. Could .you ever have believed, that 
 a man without hands could have fhaved himfelf, wrote good 
 characters, and made ufe of a needle and thread with his feet ? 
 Yet this we have ieen. It is faid by fome men of reputa- 
 tion, that the Americans in Mexico and Peru have all the 
 figns of aninfant world; becaufe, when the Europeans firft 
 came among them, they wanted a great many things, that' 
 feem to be of eafy invention. But considering that they 
 had nobody to borrow from, and no iron at all, it is amazing 
 which way they could arrive at the perfection we found them 
 in. Firix, it is lmpoffible to know, how long multitudes may 
 have been troublefome to one another, before the invention 
 of letters came among them, and they had any written laws. 
 Secondly, from the many chafms in hiftory, we know by ex- 
 perience, that the accounts of tranfactions and times in which 
 letters are known, may be entirely loft. Wars and human 
 difcord may deftroy the moil civilized nations, on]y by dif- 
 periing them ; and general devaluations fpare arts and fci- 
 ences no more than they do cities and palaces. That all 
 men are born with a ftrong defire, and no capacity at all to 
 govern, has occafioned an infinity of good and evil. Inva- 
 iions and perfecutions, by mixing and fcattering our fpecies, 
 have made orange alterations in the world. Sometimes large 
 empires are divided into feveral parts, and produce new king- 
 doms and principalities ; at others, great conquerors in £gw 
 years bring different nations under one dominion. From the 
 decay of the Roman empire alone we may learn, that arts 
 and fciences are more perifhable, much fooner loft, than 
 buildings or inferiptions ; and that a deluge of ignorance 
 may overfpread countries, without their ceanng to be inha- 
 bited. 
 
 Hor. But what is it at laft, that raifes opulent cities and 
 powerful nations from the fmalleft beginnings ? 
 
 Cleo. Providence. 
 
 Hor. But Providence makes ufe of means that are viable ; 
 I want to know the engines it is performed with. 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 493 
 
 Cko. All the ground work that is required to aggrandize 
 nations, you have feen ia the Fable of the Bees. All found 
 politics, and the whole art of governing, are entirely built 
 upon the knowledge of human nature. The great bufinefs 
 in general of a politician is to promote, and, if he can, reward 
 all good and ufeful aclions on the one hand \ and on the 
 other, to punifh, or at leaft difcourage every thing that is de- 
 ftructive or hurtful to fociety. To name particulars would 
 be an endlefs tafk. Anger, luft, and pride, may be the 
 caufes of innumerable mifchiefs, that are all carefully to be 
 guarded againft: but fetting them afide, the regulations only 
 that are required to defeat and prevent all the machinations 
 and contrivances that avarice and envy may put man upon, 
 to the detriment of his neighbour, are almoft infinite. 
 Would you be convinced of thefe truths, do but employ 
 yourfelf for a month or two, in furveying and minutely ex- 
 amining into every art and fcience, every trade, handicraft 
 and occupation, that are profeifcd and followed in fuch a city 
 as London ; and all the laws, prohibitions, ordinances and 
 reftrictions that have been found abfolutely neceifary, to 
 hinder both private men and bodies corporate, in fo many 
 different itations, firft from interfering with the public peace 
 and welfare ; fecondly, from openly wronging and fecretly 
 over-reaching, or any other way injuring one another: if 
 you will give yourfelf this trouble, you will find the number 
 of claufes and provifos, to govern a large fiourifhing city 
 well, to be prodigious beyond imagination ; and yet every 
 one of them tending to the fame purpofe, the curbing, re- 
 ftraining, and dilappointing the inordinate pafiions, and hurt- 
 ful frailties of man. You will find, moreover, which is ftill 
 more to be admired, the greater part of the articles in this 
 vaft multitude of regulations, when well underflood, to be 
 the refult of confummate wiidom. 
 
 Her. How could thefe things exiit, if there had not been 
 men of very bright parts and uncommon talents ? 
 
 Cko. Among the things I hint at, there are very few that 
 are the work of one man, or of one generation ; the greater! 
 part of them are the product, the joint labour of feveral ages. 
 Remember what in our third converfation I told you, con- 
 cerning the arts of fhip-building and politenefs. The wif- 
 dom 1 fpeak of, is not the offspring of a fine underftanding, 
 or intenfe thinking, but of found and deliberate judgment, 
 acquired from a* long experience in bufinefs, and a multiplici- 
 
494 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 ty of obfervations. By this fort of wifdom, and length of 
 time, it may be brought about, that there mall be no greater 
 dirr'culty in governing a large city, than (pardon the lowneis 
 of the fimile) there is in weaving of ltockings. 
 
 Hjv. Very low indeed. 
 
 Geo. Yet I know nothing to which the laws and eftablim- 
 ed economy of a well ordered city may be more juilly com- 
 pared, than the knitting- frame. The machine, at firft i 
 is intricate and unintelligible ; yet the effects of it are exact 
 and beautiful ; and in what is produced by it, there is a fur- 
 pniing regularity : but the beauty and exact nefs in the ma- 
 nufacture are principally, if not altogether, owing to the hap- 
 pinefs of the invention, the contrivance of the engine. For 
 the greater! artiii at it can furnifn us with no better work, 
 than may be made by almoit any fcoundrel after half a year's 
 practice. 
 
 Hot\ Though your comparison be low, I rnufl own that 
 it very well illuilrates your meaning. 
 
 Cleo. Whilif you fpoke, I have thought of another, which 
 is better. It is common now, to have clocks that are made to 
 play feveral tunes with great exactnefs : the itudy and la- 
 bour, as well as trouble ot difappointments, which, in doing 
 and undoing, fuch a contrivance muft necelfariiy have corf 
 from the beginning to the end, are not to be thought of with- 
 out aitonifhment: there is fomethiog analogous to this in the 
 government of a floui aihing city, that has laited uninterrupt- 
 ed for feveral ages : there is no part of the wholefome regu- 
 lations belonging to it, even the moil trifling and minute, 
 about which great pains and consideration have not been 
 employed, as well as length of time ; and if you will look in- 
 to the biftory anq* antiquity of any fuch city, you will find 
 that the i lditions and amendments, that 
 
 have been made in and to the laws and ordinances by which it 
 is ruled, aie in number prodigious : but that when once they 
 are brought to as much perfection as art and human wifdom 
 can carry them, the whole machine may be made to play of 
 itfelf, v ith as little ikill as it required to wind up a clock ; 
 and the government of a large city once put into gccd 
 order, the magiftrates only following their nofe% will con- 
 tinue to go right for a while, though there was not a wife 
 man in it ; provided that the care of Providence was to watch 
 -over it in the fame manner as it did before, 
 
SLSTH DIALC G 495 
 
 j%r. But fuppofing the government of a large city, when 
 
 lulled, to be very eaiy, it is not lb with whole 
 
 flares and kingdoms : is it not a great bleffing to a nation, tc 
 
 have all places of honour and great truu filled with men 01 
 
 parts and application, of probity and virtue? 
 
 ,. Yes ; and of learning, moderation, frugality, candour 
 and affability : look out for fuch as fail as you can; but in 
 the mean time the places cannot (land open, the offices mult 
 beferved by fuch as you can get. 
 
 Ehr. You feem to infmuate, that there is a great fcarcity 
 of good men in the nation, 
 
 ;. I do not fpeak of our nation in particular, but of all 
 ftates and kingdoms in general. What 1 would fay, is, that 
 it is the intereft of every nation to have their home govern- 
 \ and every branch of the civil ad ion fo wifely 
 
 contrived, that every man of middling capacity and reputa- 
 tion may be fit for any of the higbeft pods. 
 
 Har. That .s ablblutely impoilible. at leaft in fuch a na- 
 tion as ours : for what would you do for judges and chancel- 
 lors ? 
 
 ;. The fludy of the lav; is. very crabbed and very tedi- 
 ous ; but the profelTion of it is as gainful, and has great ho- 
 nours annexed to it : the confeouence of this is, that few 
 come to be eminent in it, but men of tolerable parts and 
 great application. And whoever is a good lawyer, and 
 not noted for diihonefcy, is always fit to be a judge, as ibon 
 as he is old and grave enough. To be a lord chancellor, in- 
 deed, requires higher talents ; and he ought not only to be a 
 good lawyer and an honed: man. but likewife a perfon of ge- 
 neral knowledge and great penetration. But this is but one 
 man : and comidermg what I have faid of the lav/, and the 
 power which ambition and the love of gain have upon man- 
 kind, it is morally impotnble, that, in the cpramoq courfe of 
 things among the practitioners in chancery, there mould not 
 at ail times oe one or other fit for 
 
 . Muff not every nation have men that are fit for pub- 
 lic negotiations, and perfons of great capacity to ferve for en- 
 . ^ ilk dors and plenipotentiaries £ : not have 
 
 others at home, that are likewife able to treat reign 
 
 minLters ? 
 
 QUo. That every nation mull have fuch people, is certain : 
 but I wonder that the c ; 
 
 and abroad, have not convinced you that the th. 
 
 4 
 
49°" THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 fpeak of require no fuch extraordinary qualifications. Among 
 the people of quality that are bred up in courts of princes, 
 all middling capacities muft be perfons of addrefs, and a be- 
 coming boldnefs, which are the moft ufeful talents in all con- 
 ferences and negotiations. 
 
 Hor. In a nation fo involved in debts of different kinds, 
 and loaded with fuch a variety of taxes as ours is, to be 
 thoroughly acquainted with all the funds, and the appropri- 
 ations of them, muft be a fcience not to be attained to with- 
 out good natural parts and great application ; and therefore 
 the chief management of the treafury muft be a poft of the 
 higheft truft, as well as endlefs difficulty. 
 
 Cleo. I do not think fo : moft branches of the public ad- 
 miniftration are in reality lefs difficult to thofe that are in 
 them, than they feem to be to thofe that are out of them, 
 and are ftrangers to them. If a jack and the of it 
 
 were out of light, a feniible man unacquainted with rat 
 matter, would be very much puzz'ec, if he was to account 
 for the regular turning of two or three fpits well loaded, for 
 hours together ; and it is ten to one, but he would have a 
 greater op.nion of the cook or the fcullion, than either of' 
 them deferved. In all bufiriefs that belong to the exchequer, 
 the constitution does nine parts in ten ; and has taken effec- 
 tual care, that the happy perfon whom the king fhall be 
 pleafed to favour with the fuperintendency of it, Ihould ne- 
 ver be greatly tired or perplexed with his office ; and like- 
 w T ife that the truft, the confidence that muft be repofed in 
 him, mould be very near as moderate as his trouble. By di- 
 viding the employments in a great office, and fubdividing 
 them into many parts, every man's bufinefs may be made fo 
 plain and certain, that, when he is a little ufed to it, it is 
 hardly poftihle for him to make miftakes : and again, by 
 careful limitations of every man's power, and judicious checks 
 upon every body's truft, every officer's fidelity may be placed 
 in fo clear a light, that the moment' he forfeits it, he muft be 
 detected. It is by thefe arts that the weightier! affairs, and 
 a vaft multiplicity of them, may be managed with fafety as 
 well as difpatch, by ordinary men, whofe higheft good is 
 wealth and pleafure ; and that the utmoft- regularity may be 
 obferved in a great office, and every part of it ; at the fame 
 time, that the whole economy of it ieems to be intricate and 
 perplexed to the laft degree, not only to ftrangers, but the 
 greateft part of the very officers that arc employed in it. 
 
THE SIX1H DIALOGUE. 497 
 
 Hor. The economy of our exchequer, I own, is an ad- 
 mirable contrivance to prevent frauds and encroachments of 
 all kinds ; but in the office, which is at the head of it, and 
 gives motion to it, there is greater latitude. 
 
 Geo. Why fo ? A lord treafurer, or if his office be execut- 
 ed by commiffioners, the chancellor of the exchequer, are no 
 more lawlefs, and have no greater power with impunity to 
 embezzle money, than the meaner! clerk that is employed 
 under them. 
 
 Hor. Is not the king's warrant their difcharge ? 
 
 Geo. Yes ; for funis which the king has a right to difpofe 
 of, or the payment of money for uies directed by parliament; 
 not otherwife ; and if the king, who can do no wrong, 
 fhould be impofed upon, and his warrant be obtained for 
 money at random, whether it is appropriated or not, contra- 
 ry to, or without a direct order of the legislature, the trea- 
 furer obeys at his peril. 
 
 Hor. But there are other polls, or at leaf! there is one ftill 
 of higher moment, and that requires a much greater, and 
 more general capacity than any yet named. 
 
 Geo. Pardon me : as the lord chancellor's is the higheft 
 office in dignity, fo the execution of it actually demands 
 greater, and more uncommon abilities than any other what- 
 ever. / 
 
 Hor. What fay you to the prime minifter who governs 
 all, and acts immediately under the king ? 
 
 Geo. There is no fuch officer belonging to our conftitu- 
 tion ; for by this, the whole adminiflration is, for very wife 
 reafons, divided into feveral branches. 
 
 Hor. But who rauft give orders and in(tru6!ions to admi- 
 rals, generals governors, and all cu? minifters in foreign 
 courts ? Who is to take care of the king's interef! throughout 
 the kingdom, and of his fafety ? 
 
 Geo. The king and his council, without which, royal au- 
 thority is not fuppofed to a 61, fuperintend, and govern all ; 
 and whatever the monarch has not a mind immediately to 
 take care of himfeif, falls in courfe to that part of the admi- 
 niftration it belongs to, in which every body has plain laws 
 to walk by. As to the king's intereit, it is the fame with 
 that of the nation ; his guards are to take care of his perfon ; 
 and there is no bufinefs of what nature foever, that can hap- 
 pen in or to the nation, which is not within the province, and 
 under the infpection of fome one or other of the great offi- 
 Kk 
 
49§ THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 cers of the crown, that are all known, dignified, and diftin- 
 guiihed by their refpective titles; and amongft them, I can 
 allure you, there is no fuch name as prime minifter. 
 
 . Hor. But why will you prevaricate with me after this 
 manner? You know yourfelf, and all the world knows and 
 fees, that there is fuch a minifter ; and it is eaiily proved, 
 that there always have been fuch minifters : and in the lun- 
 ation we are, I do not believe a king could do without. 
 When there are a great many difaffected people in the king- 
 dom, and parliament-men are to be chofen, elections muft be 
 looked after with great care, and a thoufand things are to be 
 done, that are necefiary to difappoint the linifter ends of 
 malecontents, and keep out the Pretender ; things of which 
 the management often requires great penetration, and un- 
 common talents, as well as fecrecy and difpatch. 
 
 Cleo. How fincerely foever you may feem to fpeak in de- 
 fence of thefe things, Horatio, I am fure, from your prin- 
 ciples, that you are not in earneft. I am not to judge of 
 the exigency of our affairs : But as I would not pry into the 
 conduct, or fcan the actions of princes, and their minifters, 
 fo I pretend to juftify or defend no wifdom but that of the 
 conftitution itfelf. 
 
 Hor. I do not defire you fhould : Only tell me, whether 
 you do not think, that a man, who has and can carry this 
 vaft burden upon his moulders, and all Europe's bulinefs in 
 his breaft, muft be a perfon of a prodigious genius, as well as 
 general knowledge, and other great abilities. 
 
 Cleo. That a man, invefted with fo much real power, and 
 an authority fo extenfive, as fuch minifters generally have, 
 muft make a great figure, and be coniiderable above all 
 other fubjects, is moft certain : But it is my opinion, that 
 there are always fifty men in the kingdom, that, if employ- 
 ed, would be fit for this poft, and, after a little practice, ihine 
 in it, to one who is equally qualified to be a Lord High Chan- 
 cellor of Great Britain. A prime minifter has a vaft, an un- 
 fpeakable advantage barely by being fo, and by every body's, 
 knowing him to be, and treating him as fuch : A man who 
 in every office, and every branch of it throughout the admi- 
 niftration, has the power, as well as the liberty, to afk and fee 
 whom and what he pleafes, has more knowledge within his 
 reach, andean fpeak of every thing with greater exactnefs 
 than any other man, that is much better verfed in affairs,. 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 499 
 
 and has ten times greater capacity. It is hardly poflible, 
 than an active man, of tolerable education, that is not deili- 
 tute of a fpirit nor of vanity, fhould fail of appearing to be 
 wife, vigilant, and expert, who has the opportunity whenever 
 he thinks fit, to make ufe of all the cunning and experience, 
 as well as diligence and labour of every officer in the civil 
 administration ; and if he has but money enough, and will 
 employ men to keep up a ftrict. correfpondence in every part 
 of the kingdom, he can remain ignorant, of nothing; and 
 there is hardly any affair or transaction, civil or military, fo- 
 reign or domeftic, which he will not be able greatly to in- 
 fluence, when he has a mind either to promote or obitrucl: it. 
 
 Hor. There feems to be a great deal in what you fay, I 
 mult confefs; but I begin to fufpect, that what often inclines 
 me to be of your opinion, is your dexterity in placing things 
 in the light you would have feen them in, and the great (kill 
 you have in depreciating what is valuable, and detracting 
 from merit. 
 
 Cleo. 1 proteft that I fpeak from my heart. 
 
 Hor. When I reflect on what I have beheld with my own 
 eyes, and what I ftill fee every day of the tranfactions be- 
 tween ftatefmen and politicians, I am very well afTured you 
 are in the wrong : When I confider all the ftratagems, and 
 the force as well as finefle that are made ufe of to fupplant 
 and undo prime minifters, the wit and cunning, induitry and 
 addrefs, that are employed to mifreprefent all their actions, 
 the calumnies and falfe reports that are fpread of them, the 
 ballads and lampoons that are publifhed, the fet fpeeches 
 and ftudied invectives that are made againft them ; when I 
 coniider, I fay, and reflect on thefe things, and every thing 
 elfe that is faid and done, either to ridicule or to render them 
 odious, I am convinced, that to defeat fo much art and 
 itrength, and difappoint fo much malice and envy as prime 
 minifters are generally attacked with, require extraordinary 
 talents : No man of only common prudence and fortitude 
 could maintain himfelf in that poft for a twelvemonth, much 
 lefs for many years together, though he underftood the world 
 very well, and had all the virtue, faithfulneis, and integrity 
 in it ; therefore, there muit be fome fallacy in your aller- 
 tion. 
 
 Cleo. Either I have been deficient in explaining myfelf, or 
 elfe I have had the misfortune to be mifunderftood. When 
 I insinuated that men might be prime minifters without e-x^ 
 Kk2 
 
500 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 traordinary endowments, I fpoke only in regard to the bufi- 
 nefs itfelf, that province, which, if there was no fuch mini- 
 fter, the king and council would have the trouble of manag- 
 ing. 
 
 Hor. To direct: and manage the whole machine of go- 
 vernment, he mull be a confummate ftatefmen in the tuft 
 place. 
 
 Cko. You have too fublime a notion of that poft. To be 
 a confummate ftatefmen, is the higheii qualification human 
 nature is capable of poiTHTing To defer ve that name, a man 
 mult be well verfed in ancient and modern hiitory, and tho- 
 roughly acquainted with all the courts of Europe, that he 
 may know not only the public intereft in every nation, 
 but likewife the private views, as well as inclinations, virtues, 
 and vices of princes and minilters : Of every country in 
 Chnitendom, and the borders of it, he ought to know the 
 product and geography, the principal cities and fortrefTes ; 
 and of thefe their trade and manufactures, their fituation, 
 natural advantages, ftrength, and number of inhabitants ; he 
 muft have read men as well as books, and perfectly well un- 
 derftand human nature, and the ufe of the paffions : He 
 limit, moreover, be a great matter in concealing the fenti- 
 ments of his heart, have an entire command over his fea- 
 tures, and be well fkilled in all the wiles and llratagems to 
 draw out fecrets from others. A man, of whom all this, or 
 the greateit part of it, may not be faid with truth, and that 
 he has had great experience in public affairs, cannot be call- 
 ed a confummate (tatefman ; but he may be fit to be a prime 
 minuter, though he had not a hundredth part of thofe qua- 
 lifications. As the king's favour creates prime minilters, and 
 makes their ftation the poit of the greateit power as well as 
 profit., fo the fame favour is the only bottom which thofe 
 that are in it have to ftand upon : The confequence is, that 
 the moit ambitious men in all monarchies are ever contend- 
 ing for this polt as the higheii prize, of which the enjoyment 
 is eaiy, and all the difficulty in obtaining and prelerving it. 
 We fee accordingly, that the accomplilhments I fpoke of to 
 make a iiatefman are neglected, and others aimed at and 
 ftudied, that are more uier'ul and more eahly acquired. The 
 capacities you obferve in prime ministers are of another na- 
 ture, and coniift in being finiihed courtiers, and thoroughly 
 underiiandmg the art of pleating and cajoling with addrefs. 
 To procure a prince what lie wants, when it is known, and 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 50I 
 
 to be diligent in entertaining him with the pleafures he calls 
 for, are ordinary fervices : Afking is no better than com- 
 plaining ; therefore, being forced to afk, is to have caufe of 
 complaint, and to fee a prince fubmit to the ilavery of it, ar- 
 gues great ruflicity in his courtiers ; a polite minifler pene- 
 trates into his mailer's wifhes, and furnifhes him with what 
 he delights in, without giving him the trouble to name it. 
 Every common flatterer can praife and extol promifcuoufly 
 every thing that is faid or done, and find wifdom and pru- 
 dence in the moll indifferent actions; but it belongs to the 
 fkilful courtier to fet fine gloffes upon manifeft imperfections, 
 and make every failing, every frailty of his prince, have the 
 real appearance of the virtues that are the nearefl, or, to 
 fpeak more juflly, the leafl oppofite to them. By the obferv- 
 ance of thefe neceifary duties, it is that the favour of 
 princes may be long preferved, as well as obtained. Who- 
 ever can make himfelf agreeable at a court, will feldom fail 
 of being thought necefiary ; and when a favourite has once 
 eflabliihed himfelf in the good opinion of his mafler, it is 
 eafy for him to make his own family engrofs the king's ear, 
 and keep every body from him but his own creatures : Nor 
 is it more difficult, in length of time, to turn out of the ad- 
 miniflration every body that was not of his own bringing in, 
 and conftantly be tripping up the heels of thofe who attempt 
 to raife themfelves by any other interefl or affiflance. A 
 prime miniiter has by his place great advantages over all 
 that oppofe him ; one of them is, that nobody, without ex- 
 ception, ever filled that pod but who had many enemies, 
 whether he was a plunderer or a patriot : Which being well 
 known, many things that are laid to a prime minifler's 
 charge are not credited among the impartial and more dif- 
 creet part of mankind, even when they are true. As to the 
 defeating and difappointing all the envy and malice they are 
 generally attacked with, if the favourite was to do all that 
 himfelf, it would certainly, as you fay, require extraordinary- 
 talents and a great capacity, as well as continual vigilance 
 and application ; but this is the province of their creatures, 
 a talk divided into a great number of parts ; and every body 
 that has the leafl dependence upon, or hag any thing to hope 
 from the minifler, makes it his buiinefs and his ftudy, as it 
 is his interefl:, on the one hand, to cry up their patron, mag- 
 nify his virtues and abilities, and juitify his conduct ; on the 
 other, to exclaim againil his adverfaries, blacken their repu- 
 
 Kk 3 
 
502 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 tation, and play at them every engine, and the fame ftrata- 
 gems that are made ufe of to fupplant the minifter. 
 
 Hor. Then every well-polifhed courtier is fit to be a 
 prime minifter, without learning or languages, ikill in poli- 
 tics, or any other qualification befides. 
 
 Cleo. No other than what are often and eafily met with : 
 It is neceilary that he fhould be a man, at leaft, of plain 
 common fenfe, and not remarkable for any grois frailties or 
 imperfections ; and of fuch, there is no fcarcity almoft in any 
 nation : He ought to be a man of tolerable health and con- 
 ftitution, and one who delights in vanity, that he may relifh, 
 as well as be able to bear the gaudy. crowds that honour his 
 levees, the conftant addrefTes, bows, and cringes of folicitors, 
 and the reft of the homage that is perpetually paid him. The 
 accomplifhment he (lands molt in need of, is to be bold and 
 refolute, fo as not to be eaiily ihocked or ruffled ; if he be 
 thus qualified, has a good memory, and is, moreover, able to 
 attend a multiplicity of bufinefs, if not with a continual pre- 
 fence of mind, at leaft feemingly without hurry or per- 
 plexity, his capacity can never fail of being extolled to the 
 ikies. 
 
 Hor. You fay nothing of his virtue nor his honefly ; there 
 is a vaft truft~put in a prime minifter : If he fhould 'be cove- 
 tous, and have no probity, nor love for his country, he 
 might make ftrange havoc with the public treafure. 
 
 Clpo. There is no man that has any pride, but he has fome 
 valiie for his reputation ; and common prudence is fufficient 
 to hinder a man of very indifferent principles from ftealing, 
 where he would be in great danger of being detected, and 
 has no manner of fecurity that he lball not be punifhed for 
 it. 
 
 Hor. But great confidence is repofed in him where he 
 cannot be traced ; as in the money for fecret fervices, of 
 which, for reafons of ftate, it may be often improper even to 
 mention, much more to fcrutinize into the particulars; and in 
 negotiations with other courts, fhould he be only fwayed by 
 felfifhnefs and private views, without regard to virtue or the 
 public, is it not in his power to betray his country, fell the 
 nation, and do all manner of mifchief ? 
 
 Geo. Not amongft us, where parliaments are every year fit- 
 ting. In foreign affairs nothing of moment can be tranfact- 
 ed but what all the world muft know ; and fhould any 
 thing be done or attempted that would be palpably ruin- 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 5C3 
 
 bus to the kingdom, and in the opinion of natives and fo- 
 reigners grofsly and manifeitly claming with our intereft, it 
 would raife a general clamour, and throw the minifter into 
 dangers, which no man of the leaft prudence, who intends 
 to itay in his country, would ever run into. As to the mo- 
 ney for fecret fervices, and perhaps other fums, which mi- 
 nifters have the difpofal of, and where they have great lati- 
 tudes, I do not queftion but they have opportunities of em- 
 bezzling the nations treafure : but to do this without being 
 difcovered, it mud be done fparingly, and with great dif- 
 cretion : The malicious overlookers that envy them their 
 places, and watch all their motions, are a great awe upon 
 them : the animofities between thofe antagonifts, and the 
 quarrels between parties, are a confiderable part of the 
 nation's fecurity. 
 
 Hor. But Would it not be a greater fecurity to have men 
 of honour, of fenfe and knowledge, of application and fru- 
 gality, preferred to public employments ? 
 Geo. Yes, without doubt. 
 
 Hor. What confidence can. we have in the juftice or inte- 
 grity of men ; that, on the one hand, mow themfelves on 
 all occasions mercenary and greedy after riches ; and on the 
 other, make it evident, by their manner of living, that no 
 wealth or eitate could ever fuffice to fupport their expences, 
 or fatisfy their deflres ! befides, would it not be a great en- 
 couragement to virtue and merit, if from the polls of ho- 
 nour and profit all were to be debarred and excluded, that 
 either wanted capacity or were enemies to bufinefs ; all the 
 felfilTi, ambitious, vain, and voluptuous ? 
 
 Geo. Nobody difputes it with you ; and if virtue, religi- 
 on, and future happinefs were fought after by the generality 
 of mankind, with the fame folicitude, as fenfual pleafure, 
 politenefs, and worldly glory are, it Would certainly be beft. 
 that none but men of good lives, and known ability, iTiould 
 have any place in the government whatever : but to expedt 
 that this ever mould happen, or to live in hopes of it in a 
 large, opulent, and flouriihing kingdom, is to betray great 
 ignorance in human affairs ? and whoever reckons a general 
 temperance, frugality, and difintereftedneis among the na- 
 tional ble flings, and at the fame time folicits Heaven for eafe 
 and plenty, and the increafe of trade, feems to me, little to 
 underftand what he is about. The beft of all, then, not being 
 to be had, let us look out for the next beit, and we fhall 
 Kk 4 
 
504 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 find, that of all poilible means to fecure and perpetuate to 
 nations their eftabliiliment, and whatever they value, there 
 is no better method than with wife laws to guard and en- 
 trench their conftitution, and contrive fuch forms of ad- 
 mmiftration that the commonweal can receive no great de- 
 triment from the want of knowledge or probity of minifters, 
 if any of them fhould prove lefs able or honeit, than they 
 could wifh them. The public adminiftration muft always go 
 forward ; it is a fhip that can never lie at anchor : the moil 
 knowing, the moil virtuous, and the leaft felf-interefted mi- 
 nifters are the bell ; but, in the mean time there muft be 
 minirters. Swearing and drunken nefs are crying fins among 
 feafaring men, and I fhould think it a very defirable bleffing 
 to the nation, if it was poilible to reform them : but all this 
 while we mult have failors ; and if none were to be admitted 
 on board of any of his majefty's mips, that had fworn above 
 a thoufand oaths, or had been drunk above ten times in their 
 lives, I am perfuaded that the fervice would fuffer very much 
 by the well-meaning regulation. 
 
 Hor. Why do not you, fpeak more openly, and fay that 
 there is no virtue or probity in the world ? for all the drift 
 of your difcourfe is tending to prove that. 
 
 Cleo. I have amply declared myfelf upon this fubjec"t al- 
 ready in a former converfation ; and I wonder you will lay 
 again to my charge what I once^abiblutely denied : I never 
 thought thar there were no virtuous or religious men ; what 
 I differ in with the flatterers of our fpecies, is about the 
 numbers which they contend for ; and I am perfuaded that 
 you yourfelf, in reality, do not believe that there are fo 
 many virtuous men as you imagine you do. 
 
 Hor. How come you to know my thoughts better than I 
 do myfelf? 
 
 Cleo. You know I have tried you upon this head already, 
 when I ludicrouily extolled and let a fine glofs on the merit 
 of feveral callings and profefiions in the fociety, from the 
 loweft ftations of life to the highefb: it then plainly appeared, 
 that, though you have a very high opinion of mankind in 
 general, when we come to particulars, you was as fevere, 
 and every whit as cenforious as myfelf. I muit obferve one 
 thing to you, which is worth confideration. Molt, if not 
 all people, are deiirous of being thought impartial ; yet no- 
 thing is more difficult than to preferve our judgment unbi- 
 afied, when we are influenced either by our love or our 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. $0$ 
 
 hatred ; and how juft and equitable foever people are, we 
 fee that their friends are feldom fo good, or their enemies fo 
 bad as they reprefent. them, when they are angry with the 
 one, or highly pleafed with the other. For my part, I do 
 not think that, generally fpeaking, prime minifters are much 
 worfe than their adverfaries, who for their own intereit 
 defame them, and at the fame time, move Heaven and earth 
 to be in their places. Let us look cut for two perfons of emi- 
 nence in any court of Europe, that are equal in merit and ca- 
 pacity, and as well matched in virtues and vices, but of con- 
 trary parties ; and whenever we meet with two fuch, one 
 in favour and the other neglected, we mall always find that 
 whoever is uppermoft, and m great employ, has the applaufe 
 of his party ; and if things go tolerably well, his friends will 
 attribute every good fuccefs to his conduct, and derive all 
 his actions from laudable motives : the oppoiite fide can dif- 
 cover no virtues in him ; they will not allow him to act from 
 any principles but his paffions ; and if any thing be done 
 amifs, are very fure that it would not have happened if their 
 patron had been in the fame pod. This is the way of the 
 world. How immenlely do often people of the fame king- 
 dom differ in the opinion they have of their chiefs and com- 
 manders, even when they are fuccefsful to admiration ! we 
 have been wkneffes ourfelves that one part of the nation 
 has afcribed the victories of a general entirely to his con- 
 fummate knowledge in martial affairs, and fuperlative capa- 
 city in action ; and maintained that it was impoffible for a 
 man to bear all the toils and fatigues he underwent with 
 alacrity, or to court the dangers he voluntarily expofed him- 
 felf to, if he had not been fupported, as well as animated, 
 by the true fpirit of heroifm, and a moft generous love for 
 his country : thefe, you know, were the fentiments of one 
 part of the nation, whilft the other attributed all his fuc- 
 ceifes to the bravery of his - troops, and the extraordinary 
 care that was taken at home to fupply his army ; and infill- 
 ed upon it, that from the whole courfe of his life, it was 
 demonflrable, that he had never been buoyed up or actu- 
 ated by any other principles than excels of ambition, and 
 an uniatiable greedinets after riches. 
 
 Hor I do not know but 1 may have faid fo myfclf. But 
 after all, the Duke of Marlborough was a very great man, 
 an extraordinary genius. 
 
5o6 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Cleo. Indeed was he, and I am glad to hear you own it 
 at laft. 
 
 Virtutem incolumem odiraus, 
 Sublatum ex oculis quserimus invidi. 
 
 Hor. A propos. I wifh you would bid them flop for two 
 or three minutes : fome of the horfes perhaps may ftale the 
 while. 
 
 Cleo. No excufes, pray. You command here. Befides, 
 we have time enough. Do you want to go out? 
 
 Hor. No ; but I want to fet down fomething, now I think 
 of it, which I have heard you repeat feveral times. I have 
 often had. a mind to a(k you for it, and it always went out 
 of my head again. It is the epitaph which your friend made 
 upon the Duke. 
 
 Cleo. Of Marlborough? with all my heart. Have you 
 paper ? 
 
 Hor. I will write it upon the back of this letter; and as it 
 happens, I mended my pencil this morning. How does it 
 begin ? 
 
 Cleo. £>iii belli, aut paucis virtuiibus ajlra petebant. 
 
 Hoe, Well. 
 
 Cleo. Finxerunt homines facula prifc a Deos. 
 
 Hor. I have it. But tell me a whole diftich at a time; 
 the fenfe is clearer. 
 
 Cleo. Quae martera fine patre tulit, fine matre Minervam, 
 Illuftres raendax Graecia ja&et avos. 
 
 Hor. That is really a happy thought. Courage and con- 
 duct : juft the two qualifications he excelled in. What is 
 the next? 
 
 Cleo. Anglia quem genuit jacet hac, Homo, copditus Urna, 
 Antiqui, qualem ncn habuere Deum. 
 
 Hor. 1 thank you. They may go on now. I have 
 
 feen feveral things fince firft I heard this epitaph of you, 
 that are manifeftly borrowed from it. Was it never pub- 
 lifhed? 
 
 Cleo. I believe not. The firft time I faw it was the day 
 the Duke was buried, and ever fince it has been handed about 
 in manufcript ; but I never met with it in print yet. 
 
 Hor. It is worth all his Fable of the Bees, in my opinion. 
 
THE SITXH DIALOGUE. 507 
 
 Cko. If you like it fo well, I can (how you a tranilation of 
 it, lately done by a gentleman of Oxford, if I have not loft 
 it. It only takes in the firft and laft diftich, which indeed 
 contain the main thought : The lecond does not carry it on, 
 and is rather a digreffion. 
 
 Hor. But it demonftrates the truth of the firft in a very 
 convincing manner ; and that Mars had no father, and Mi- 
 nerva no mother, is the molt fortunate thing a man could 
 wifli for, who wanted to prove that the account we have of 
 them is fabulous. 
 
 Cko. Oh, here it is. I do not know whether you can read 
 it ; I copied it in hafte; 
 
 Hor. Very well. 
 
 The grateful ages pad a God declar'd, 
 Who wifely council'd, or who bravely war'd : 
 Hence Greece her Mars and Pallas deify'd ; 
 Made him the heroe's, her the patriot's guide. 
 Ancients, within this urn a mortal lies 
 Shew me his peer among your deities. 
 
 It is very good. 
 
 Cko. Very lively ; and what is aimed at in the Latin, is 
 rather more clearly exprelTed in the Englifh. 
 
 Hor. You know I am fond of no Englifh verfe but Mil- 
 ton's. But do not let this hinder our converfation. 
 
 Cko. I was fpeaking of the partiality of mankind in gene- 
 ral, and putting you in mind how differently men judged of 
 aclions, according as they liked or difliked the perfons that 
 performed them. 
 
 Hor. But before that you was arguing againft the necefll- 
 ty, which I think there is, for men of great accomplifhments 
 and extraordinary qualifications in the adminiftration of pub- 
 lic affairs. Had you any thing to add ? 
 
 Cko. No ; at leaft I do not remember that I had. 
 
 Hor. I do not believe you have an ill defign in advancing 
 fhefe notions ; but fuppofmg them to be true, I cannot com- 
 prehend that divulging them can have any other effecl than 
 the increafe of floth and ignorance ; for if men may fill the 
 highelt places in the government without learning or capa- 
 city, genius or knowledge, there is an end of all the labour 
 of the brain, and the fatigue of hard ftudy. 
 'Cko. I have made no fuch general aiTertion ; but that an 
 artful man may make a conliderable figure in the highelt poll 
 of the adminiftration, and other great employments, without 
 
$Z>i ^HE SIXTH DIALOGUE 
 
 extraordinary talents, is certain : as to confummate ftatef- 
 men, I do not believe there ever were three perfons upon 
 earth at the fame time, that deferved that name. There is 
 not a quarter of the wifdom, folid knowledge, or intrinfic 
 worth in the world that men talk of and compliment one 
 another with; and of virtue or religion there is not an 
 hundredth part in reality of what there is in appearance. 
 
 Hor. I allow that thole who fet out from no better motives, 
 than avarice and ambition, aim at no other ends bat wealth 
 and honour ; which, if they can but get anywife they are 
 fatisfied ; but men who act from principles of virtue and a 
 public fpirit, take pains with alacrity to attain the accom- 
 pliihments that w r ill make them capable of ferving their 
 country : and if virtue be fo fcarce, how come there to be 
 men of fkill in their profeilions ? for that there are men of 
 learning and men of capacity, is moit certain. 
 
 Cleo, The foundation of all accomplishments mult be laid 
 in our youth, before we are able or allowed to choofe for 
 ourfelves, or to judge, which is the moft profitable way of 
 employing our time. It is to good difcipline, and the pru- 
 dent care of parents and matters, that men are beholden for 
 the greateit part of their improvements ; and few parents are 
 fo bad as not to wifh their offspring might be well accom- 
 plifhed : the fame natural affection that makes men take 
 pains to leave their children rich, renders the m iolicitou 
 about their education. Beiides, it is unfafhionable, and con-, 
 fequently a difgrace to neglect them. The chief deiign of 
 parents in bringing up their children to a calling or profef- 
 fion, is to procure them a livelihood. What promotes and 
 encourages arts and fciences, is the reward, money and ho- 
 nour; and thoufands of perfections are attained to, that 
 would have had no exiftence, if men had been lefs proud or I 
 lefs covetous. Ambition, avarice, and often necellity, are 
 great fpurs to induftry and application ; and often roufe men 
 from ffcth and indolence, when they are grown up, whom no 
 perfuafions or chaftifement of fathers or tutors, made any i 
 imprefiion upon in their youth, Whilit profeilions are lu- 
 crative, and have great dignities belonging to "hem, there 
 will always be men that excel in them. In a large polite na- 
 tion, therefore, ail forts of learning will ever abound, whilit 
 the people rlouriih. Rich parents, and fuch as can afford tt, 
 feldomfail bringing up their children to literature : from this 
 inexhaustible fpring it is, that we always draw much larger 
 
 7 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 509 
 
 fupplies than we (land in need of, for all the callings and pro- 
 feffions where the knowledge of the learned languages is re- 
 quired. Of thofe that are brought up to letters, ibme neglect 
 them, and throw by their books as foon as they are their own 
 mailers ; others grow fonder of ftudy, as they increafe in 
 years ; but the greateft part will always retain a value for 
 what has coft them pains to acquire. Among the wealthy, 
 there will be always lovers of knowledge, as well as idle peo- 
 ple : every fcience will have its admirers, as men differ in their 
 taftes and pleafures ; and there is no part of learning but fome- 
 -body or other will look into it, and labour at it, from no better 
 principles than feme men are fox hunters, and others take 
 delight in angling. Look upon the mighty labours of anti- 
 quaries, botanifts, and the vertuofos in butterflies, cockle- 
 fhells, and other odd productions of nature ; and mind the 
 magnificent terms they all make ufe of in their refpective 
 provinces, and the pompous names they often give to what 
 others, who have no taite that way, would not think worth 
 any mortal's notice. Curioiity is often as bewitching to the 
 rich, as lucre is to the poor ; and what intereft does in fome, 
 vanity does in others ; and great wonders are often produced 
 from a happy mixture of both. Is it not amazing, that a 
 temperate man mould be at the expence of four or five thou- 
 fand a- year, or, which is much the fame thing, be contented 
 to lofe the intereft of above a hundred thoufand pounds, to 
 have the reputation of being the pofieiTor and owner of rari- 
 ties and knicknacks in a very great abundance, at the fame 
 time that he loves money, and continues flaving for it in his 
 old age ! It is the hopes either of gain or reputation, of large 
 revenues and great dignities that promote learning; and 
 when we fay that any calling, art or fcience, is not en- 
 couraged, we mean no more by it, than that the mailers or 
 profeiibrs of it are not fufficiently rewarded for their pains, 
 either with honour or profit. The mod holy functions are no 
 exception to what I fay ; and few miniilers of the gofpel are 
 fo diimterefted as to have a lefs regard to the honours and 
 emoluments that are or ought to be annexed to their em- 
 ployment, than they have to the fervice and benefit they 
 fhould be of to others ; and among thofe of them that fludy 
 hard and take uncommon pains, it is not eafily proved that 
 many are excited to their extraordinary labour by a public 
 fpint or folicitude for the fpiritual welfare of the laity : on 
 the contrary, it is vifible, in the greateft part of them, that 
 
5 10 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 they are animated by the love of glory and the hopes of pre-^ 
 ferment; neither is it common to fee the mod ufeful parts of 
 learning neglected for the moil trifling, when, from the lat- 
 ter, men have reafon to hope that they (hall have greater 
 opportunities of mowing their parts, than offer themielves 
 from the former. Oftentation and envy have made more 
 authors than virtue and benevolence. Men of known capa- 
 city and erudition are often labouring hard to eclipfe and 
 rum one another's glory. What principle muft we fay two 
 adverfaries act from, both men of unquestionable good 
 fenfe and exteniive knowledge, when all the (kill and pru- 
 dence they are mailers of are not able to itifle, in their ttudied 
 performances, and hide from the world, the rancour of their 
 minds, the fpleen and animofity they both write with againit 
 one another. 
 
 Hot. 1 do not fey that fuch act from principles of virtue. 
 
 Cleo. Yet vou know an inllance of this in two grave di- 
 vines, men of fame and great merit, of whom each would 
 think himfelf very much injured, mould his virtue be called 
 in queftion. 
 
 Hon When men have an opportunity, under pretence ot 
 zeal for religion, or the public good, to vent their pailion, 
 they take great liberties. What was the quarrel ? 
 
 ( . De lana caprbui. 
 
 r. A trifle. 1 cannot guefs yet. 
 
 Cleo. About the metre of the comic poets among the an- 
 
 cicnts. 
 
 I know what you mean now ; the manner of icand- 
 ing and chanting thofe vcrfes. * 
 
 i you think of any thing belonging to literature, 
 oflefs importance, or more uieleis? 
 
 Hor. Not readily. 
 
 Cleo. Yet the great contefl between them, you fee, is which 
 of them underftands it beft, and has known it the loi 
 This inflance, 1 think, hints to us how highly improbable it 
 is, though men fhould act from no better principles than en- 
 vy, avarice, and ambition, that when learning is once cfla- 
 blilhed, any part of it, even the moil unprofitable, ihould 
 ever be neglected in fuch a large opulent nation as ours is ; 
 where there are lb many places of honour, and great reve- 
 nues to be difpofed of among fcholars. 
 
 Hor. But iince men are fit to ferve in moil places with io 
 little capacity, as vou injinuate, why fhould they give them- 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE, 51 1 
 
 felves that unneceffary trouble of ftudying hard, and ac- 
 quiring more learning than there is occafion for ? 
 
 Geo. I thought I had anfwered that already ; a great ma- 
 ny, becaufe they take delight in ftudy ar»d knowledge. 
 
 Hor. But there are men that labour at it with fo much ap- 
 plication, as to impair their healths, and actually to kill them- 
 felves with the fatigue of it. 
 
 Geo. Not fo many as there are that injure their healths, 
 and actually kill themfelves with hard drinking, which is the 
 moft unreafonable pleafure of the two, and a much greater 
 fatigue. But I do not deny that there are men who take 
 pains to qualify themfelves in order to ferve their country ; 
 what I infift upon is, that the number of thofe who do the 
 fame thing to ferve themfelves with little regard to their 
 country, is infinitely greater. Mr. Hutchefon, who wrote 
 the Inquiry into the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Vir- 
 tue, feems to be very expert at weighing and meafuring the 
 quantities of affection, benevolence, &c. I wifli that curious 
 metaphyfician would give himfelf the trouble, at his leifure, 
 to weigh two things feparately : Firfl, the real love men 
 have for their country, abftracted from felftihnefs. Second- 
 ly, the ambition they have of being thought to act from 
 that love, though they feel none. I wifh, I fay, that this in- 
 genious gentleman would once weigh theie two afunder ; 
 and afterwards, having taken in impartially all he could find 
 of either, in this or any other nation, fliow us in his demon- 
 strative way, what proportion the quantities bore to each 
 other. — ®>uijquejibi commijfus e/t, fays Seneca ; and certainly, 
 it is not the care of others, but the care of itfelf, which nature 
 has trufted and charged every individual creature with. 
 When men exert themfelves in an extraordinary manner, 
 they generally do it to be the better for it themfelves ; to 
 excel, to be talked of, and to be preferred to others, that fol- 
 low the fame bulinefs, or court the fame favours. 
 
 Hor. Do you think it more probable, that men of parts 
 and learning mould be preferred, than others of lefs capa- 
 city ? 
 
 Geo. Ceteris paribus, I do, 
 
 Hor. Then you mult allow that there is virtue at leaft in 
 thofe who have the difpofal of places. 
 
 Geo. I do not fay there is not ; but there is likewife glory 
 and real honour accruing to patrons for advancing men of 
 merit y and if a perfon who has a good living in his gift, be- 
 
 4 
 
512 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 flows it upon a very able man, every body applauds him, 
 and every parifliioner is counted to be particularly obliged to 
 him. A vain man does not love to have his choice difap- 
 proved of, and exclaimed againft by all the world, any more 
 than a virtuous man ; and the love of applaufe, which is in- 
 nate to our fpecies, would alone be fufficient to make the 
 generality of men, and even the greaterl part of the mod 
 vicious, always choofe the mod worthy, out of any number 
 ef candidates ; if they knew the truth, and no itronger motive 
 arifing from confanguinity, friendship, intereit, or fome thing 
 elfe, was to interfere with the principle I named. 
 
 Hor. But, methinks, according to your fyftem, thofe 
 fhould be fooneft preferred that can belt coax and flatter. 
 
 Clea. Among the learned there are perfons of art and ad- 
 drefs, that can mind their fiudies without neglecting the 
 the world : thefe are the men that know how to ingratiate 
 thenifeives with perfons of quality ; employing to the belt 
 advantage all their parts and lnduftry for that purpofe. Do 
 but look into the lives and the deportment of fuch eminent 
 men, as we have been fpeaking of and you will foon difcover 
 the end and advantages they ieem to propofe to themfelves 
 from their hard ftudy and levere lucubrations. When you 
 fee men in holy orders, without call or neceffity, hovering 
 about the courts of princes ; when you fee them continually 
 addreiilug and fcrapmg acquaintance with the favourites ; 
 when you hear them exclaim againft. the luxury of the age, 
 and complain of the neceffity they are under of complying 
 with it ; and at the fame time you fee, that thej are forward, 
 nay eager and take pains with Satisfaction, in the way of liv- 
 ing, to imitate the beau moudc, as far as it is in their power : 
 that no looner they are in polTellion of one preferment, but 
 they are ready, and actually foliating for another, more 
 gainful and more reputable ; and that on all emergencies, 
 wealth, power, honour and fuperiority are the things they 
 grafp at, and take delight in ; when, I fay, you fee ihefe 
 things, «this concurrence of evidences, is it any longer difii- ■ 
 cult to guefs at, or rather is there room to doubt of the prin- 
 ciples they act from, or the tendency of their labours ? 
 
 Hot\ I have little to fay to priefts, and do not look for vir- 
 tue from tnat quarter. 
 
 Cleo. Yet you will find as much of it among divines, as 
 you will among any other clafs of men ; but every where 
 leis in reality, than there is in appearance, Nobody would 
 
SIXTH DIALOGUE. 513 
 
 be thought infincere, or to prevaricate ; but there are few 
 men, though they are fo honeil as to Own what they would 
 have, that will acquaint us with the true reaibn why they 
 
 Id have it: therefore the difagi between the 
 
 words and actions of men is at no time more conipicuous, 
 n we would learn from them their fentiments, con- 
 cerning the real worth of things. Virtue, is without doubt, 
 the moil valuable treafufe which man can be poiTeffed cf ; 
 it has every body's good word ; but where is the country in 
 
 hit is heartily embraced, prtemiafi toBas P Money, on 
 the other hand, is defervedly called the root of all evil : there 
 
 D jl been a moraliil nor a fatiriil of note, that has not had 
 a fling at it ; yet what pains are taken, and what hazards are 
 run to acquire it, under various pretences of designing to do 
 good with it ! As for my part, I verily believe, that as an ac- 
 ceiTary caufe, it has done more mifchief in the world than 
 any one thing befides : yet it is impotlible to name another, 
 that is fo absolutely neceffary to the order, economy, and the 
 very exigence oft, :iety : for as this is entirely built 
 
 upon the variety of our wants, fo the whole fuperilruclure is 
 made up of the reciprocal fervices which men do to each 
 other. How to get thefe fervices performed by others, when 
 we have occailon for them, is the grand and almoit co:; 
 folicitude in life of every individual perfon. To expect 
 that others mould ferve us for nothing, is unreafonable ; 
 therefore all commerce that men can have together, mull 
 be a continual bartering of one thing for another. The fel- 
 ler who trans firs the property of a thing, has his own inte- 
 rest as much at heart as the buyer who purchafes that pro- 
 perty : and, if you want or like a thing, the owner of it, 
 whatever flock or provifion he may have of the fame, or how 
 greatly foever you may ftand in need of it, will never part 
 with it, but for a confideration which he likes better than 
 he does the thing you want. Which way mall I perfuade a 
 mant to ferve me, when the fervice I can repay him in, is 
 fucli as he does not want or care for ? Nobody who is at 
 peace, and has no contention with any of the fociety, will do 
 any thing for a lawyer ; and a phyiician can purchafe no- 
 thing of a man, whole whole family is in perfect health. Mo- 
 ney obviates and takes away all thole difficulties, by being 
 an acceptable reward for all the fervices men can do to one 
 another. 
 
 LI 
 
5^4 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 Hor. But all men valuing themfelves above their worth, 
 every body will over-rate his labour. Would not this follow 
 from your fyflem ? 
 
 Cleo. It certainly would, and does. But what is to be ad- 
 mired is, that the larger the numbers are in a fociety, the 
 more exteniive they have rendered the variety of their de- 
 fires, and the more operofe the gratification of them is be- 
 come among them by cuftom ; the lefs mifchievous is the 
 confequence of that evil, where they have, the ufe of money : 
 whereas, without it, the fmailer the number was of a fociety, 
 and the more fuictly the members of it, in fupplying their 
 wants, would confine themfelves to thofe only that were ne- 
 celTary for their fubfiitence, the more eafy it would be for them 
 to agree about the reciprocal fervices I fpoke of. But to 
 procure all the comforts of life, and what is called temporal 
 happinefs, in a large polite nation, would be every whit as 
 practicable without fpeech. as it would be without money, 
 or an equivalent to be ufed inflead of it. Where this is not 
 wanting, and due care is taken of it by the legillature, it will 
 always be the itandard, which the worth of every thing will 
 be weighed by. There are great bleffings that arife from ne- 
 ceffity ; and that every body is obliged to eat and drink, is 
 the cement of civil fociety. Let men fet what high value 
 they pleafe upon themfelves, that labour which moft people 
 are capable q[ doing, will ever be the cheapsit. Nothing 
 can be dear of which there is great plenty, how beneficial 
 foever it may be to man ; and Scarcity enhances the price of 
 things much oftener than the ufefulnefs of them. Hence it 
 is evident why thofe arts and fciences will always be the 
 moft lucrative, that cannot be attained to, but in great 
 length of time, by tedious ftudy and clofe application ; or 
 elfe require a particular genius, not often to be met with. It 
 is likewife evident, to whofe lot, in all focieties, the hard and 
 dirty labour, which nobody would meddle with, if he could 
 help it, will ever fall : but you have leen enough of this in 
 the Fable of the Bees. 
 
 Hor. I have fo, and one remarkable faying I have read 
 there on this iubject, which I mall never forget. " The poor," 
 fays the author, " have nothing to liir them up to labour, 
 " but their wants, which it is vvifdom to relieve, but folly to 
 " cure." 
 
 Cleo. I believe the maxim to be juft, and that it is not lefs 
 calculated for the real advantage of the poor, than it appears 
 7 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 515 
 
 to be for the benefit of .the rich. For, among the labouring 
 people, thofe will ever be the lead wretched as to themfelves, 
 as well as moft ufeful to the public, that being meanly born 
 and bred, fubmit to the ftation they are in with cheerfulnefs ; 
 and contented, that their children fhould fucceed them in 
 the fame low condition, inure them from their infancy to la- 
 bour and fubmiffion, as well as the cheapeft diet and ap- 
 parel ; when, on the contrary, that fort of them will always 
 be the leaft ferviceable to others, and themfelves the moll un- 
 happy, who, dhTatisfied with their labour, are always grumb- 
 ling and repining at the meannefs of their condition ; and, 
 under pretence of having a great regard for the welfare of 
 their children, recommend the education of them to the cha- 
 rity of others ; and you fhall always find, that of this latter 
 clafs of poor, the greateft part are idle fottifh people, that, 
 leading diifolute lives themfelves, are neglectful to their fa- . 
 milies, aud only want, as far as it is in their power, to make 
 off that burden of providing for their brats from their own 
 fhoulders. 
 
 Hor. I am no advocate for charity fchools ; yet I think it 
 is barbarous, that the children of the labouring poor, fhould 
 be for ever pinned down, they, and all their pofterity, to that 
 flavifh condition ; and that thofe who are meanly born, what 
 parts or genius foever they might be of, mould be hindered 
 and debarred from railing themfelves higher. 
 
 Cko. So fhould I think it barbarous, if what you fpeak of 
 was done any where, or propofed to be done. But there is 
 no degree of men in Chriftendom that are pinned down, they 
 and their pofterity, to flavery for ever. Among the very 
 loweft: fort, there are fortunate men in every country ; and 
 we daily fee perfons, that without education, or friends, by 
 their own induftry and application, raife themfelves from no- 
 thing to mediocrity, and fometimes above it, if once they 
 come rightly to love money and take delight in faving it : 
 and this happens more often to people of common and mean 
 capacities, than it does to thofe of brighter parts. But there 
 is a prodigious difference between debarring the children 
 of the poor from ever riling higher in the world, and refufing 
 to force education upon thouiands of them promifcuoufly, 
 when they fhould be more ufefully employed. As.fome of 
 the rich mult come to be poor, fo feme of the poor will come 
 to be rich in the common courfe of things. But that uni- 
 verfal benevolence, that fhould every where induilrioullv lift 
 LI2 
 
SI 6 TH£ SIXTH DIALOGUE. 
 
 up the indigent labourer from his meannefs, would not be 
 lefs injurious to the whole kingdom than a tyrannical power, 
 that mould, without a caufe, cad down the wealthy from 
 their eafe and affluence. Let us fuppofe, that the hard and 
 dirty labour throughout the nation requires three millions of 
 hands, and that every branch of it is performed by the chil- 
 dren of the poor. Illiterate, and fuch as had little or no edu- 
 cation themfelves ; it is evident, that if a tenth part of thefe 
 children, by force and deiign, were to be exempt from the 
 loweil drudgery, either there muft be fo much work left un- 
 done, as would demand three hundred thoufand people ; or 
 the defect, occasioned by the numbers taken off, mult be 
 fupplied by the children of others, that had been better 
 bred. 
 
 Hor. So that what is done at firft out of charity to fome, 
 may, at long run, prove to be cruelty to others. 
 
 Cleo. And will, depend upon it. In the compound of 
 all nations, the different degrees of men ought to bear 
 a certain proportion to each other, as to numbers, in or- 
 der to render the whole a well proportioned mixture. 
 And as this due proportion is the remit and natural 
 confequence of the difference there is in the qualifica- 
 tions of men, and the viciffitudes that happen among them, 
 fo it is never better attained to, or preferved, than when 
 nobody meddles with it. Hence we may learn, how the 
 fbort-fighted wifdom of perhaps well-meaning people, may 
 rob us of a felicity that would flow fpontaneoufly from the 
 nature of every large fociety, if none were to divert or inter- 
 rupt the dream. 
 
 Hor. I do riot care to enter into thefe abftrufe matters ; 
 - what have you further to fay in praife of money ? 
 
 Geo. I have no deiign to fpeak either for or againft it; 
 but be it good or bad, the power and dominion of it are both 
 of vaft extent, and the influence of it upon mankind has ne- 
 ver been ilronger or more general in any empire, ftate, or 
 kingdom, than in the moil knowing and politeft ages, when 
 they were in their greater! grandeur and profperity ; and 
 when arts and fciences were the moil flouriihing in them : 
 Therefore, the invention of money feems to me to be a thing 
 more ikilfully adapted to the whole bent of our nature, than 
 any other or human contrivance. There is no greater re- 
 medy again ft floth or flubbornefs ; and with aftonifhment I 
 have beheld the readineis and alacrity with which it often 
 7 
 
THE SltfTH DrALOGUE. 517 
 
 makes the proudeft men pay homage to their inferiors : It 
 purchafes all ferviees, and cancels all debts ; nay, it does 
 more, for when a perfon is employed in his occupation, and 
 he who fets him to work, a good paymafter, how laborious, 
 how difficult or irkfome foever the fervice be, the obligation 
 is always reckoned to lie upon him who performs it. 
 
 Hor. Do not you think, that many eminent men in tb* 
 learned profeffions would dinent from you in this ? 
 
 Geo. I know very well, that none ought to do it, if ever 
 they courted biifinefs, or hunted after employment. 
 
 Hor. All you have faid is true among mercenary peop e ? 
 but upon noble minds that defpife lucre, honour has L * ar 
 greater efficacy than money. 
 
 Geo. The higher! titles, and the mod illuftrious b : - tns > are 
 no fecurity againft covetoufnefs ; and perfons of t'fr nr ft ^l ua " 
 lity, that are actually generous and munificent are of ten as 
 greedy after gain, when it is worth their whi^> as tne mo ^ 
 fordid mechanics are for trifles : The ^ ar twenty has 
 taught us, how difficult it is to find out chofe noble minds 
 that defpife lucre, when there is a profpcl: of getting vailly. 
 Beiides, nothing is more univerfally charming than money ; 
 it fuits with every ftation, the high, the low, the wealthy, 
 and the poor : whereas, honour tas little influence on the 
 mean, Having people, and rarel; affects any of the vulgar; 
 but if it does, money will alpioft every where purchafe ho- 
 nour; nay, riches of themfcives are an honour to all thofe 
 who know how to ufe them fafhionably. Honour, on the 
 contrary, wants riches for its fupport ; without them it is a 
 dead weight that oppreffes its owner ; and titles of honour, 
 joined to a neceffitous condition, are a greater burden toge- 
 ther than the fame degree of poverty is alone ; for the high- 
 er a man's quality is, the more considerable are -his wants in 
 life; but the more money he has, the better he is able to 
 fupply the greateft extravagancy of them. Lucre is the bed 
 reftorative in the world, in a literal fenfe, and works upon 
 the fpirits mechanically ; for it is not only a fpur that ex- 
 cites men to labour, and makes them in love with ir, but 
 it likewife gives relief in wearinefs, and actually fupports 
 men in all fatigues and difficulties, A labourer of any fort, 
 who is paid in proportion to his diligence, can do more 
 work than another who is paid by the day or the week, and. 
 has Handing wages. 
 
 H3 
 
518 THE SIXTH DIALOGUE, 
 
 Hot. Do not you think, then, that there are men in labo- 
 rious offices, who, for a fixed falary, diicharge their duties 
 with diligence and affiduitv ? 
 
 Cldo. Yes, many ; but there is no place or employment 
 in which there are required or expected, that continual at- 
 tendance and uncommon feverity of application, that fome 
 men harafs and punifh themfelves with by choice, when 
 every frefh trouble meets with a new recompence ; and you 
 never faw men fo entirely devote themfelves to their calling, 
 and purfue buiinefs with that eagemefs, difpatch, and perfe- 
 ^ nance in any office of preferment, in which the yearly in- 
 come is certain and unalterable, as they often do in thofe 
 P r °hffions, where the reward continually accompanies the 
 laboui >a nd the fee immediately either precedes the fervice 
 they do others, as it is with the lawyers, or follows it, as it 
 is with the ihyiicians. I arn f ure you have hinted at this in 
 our firft c.cnvrfation yourielf. 
 Hor. Here l^the caftle before us. 
 Cieo. Which lfuppofe you are not forry for. 
 Hor. Indeed I im , and would have been glad to have 
 heard you fpeak of xings and other fovereigns with the fame 
 candour, as well as i-eedom, with which you have treated 
 prime miniilers, and they envious adverfaries. When I fee 
 a man entirely impartial, I (hall always do him that juftice, 
 as to think, that if he is not iq the right in what he fays, at 
 lead he aims at truth. The snore I examine your fenti- 
 raents, by what I fee in the world, the more I am obliged to 
 come into them ; and all this murmng 1 have faid nothing in 
 oppofition to you, but to be better informed, and to give 
 you an opportunity to explain yourfelf more amply. 1 am 
 your convert, and (hall henceforth look upon the Fable of 
 \ the Bees very differently from what I did ; for though, in the 
 Characleriilics, the language and the diction are better, the 
 iyftem of man's fociablenefs is more lovely and more plau- 
 iible, and things are fet off with more art and learning ; yet 
 in the other there is certainly more truth, and nature is more 
 faithfully copied in it almoif every where. 
 
 Cleu. I with you would read them both once more, and, 
 after that, I believe you will fay that you never faw two au- 
 thors who feem to have wrote with more different views. 
 My friend, the author of the i able, to engage and keep his 
 readers in good humour, feems to be very merry, and to do 
 fomething elfe, whillt he deteds the corruption of our na- 
 
THE SIXTH DIALOGUE. 519 
 
 ture ; and having fhown man to himfelf in various lights, he 
 points indirectly at the neceility, not only of revelation and 
 believing, bur likewife of the practice of Chriftianity mani- 
 festly to be feen in mens lives. 
 
 Hor. I have not obferved that : Which way has he done 
 it indirectly ? 
 
 Geo. By expoiing, on the one hand, the vanity of the 
 world, and the molt polite enjoyments of it ; and, on the 
 other, the infufficiency of human realon and heathen virtue 
 to procure real felicity : for I cannot fee what other meaning 
 a man could have by doing this in a Chriftian country, and 
 among people that all pretend to feek after happinefs. 
 
 Hor. And what fay you of Lord Shaftfbury ? 
 
 Geo. Fif ft, I agree with you that he was a man of erudi- 
 tion, and a very polite writer ; he has difplayed a copious 
 imagination, and a fine turn of thinking, in courtly language 
 and nervous exprelllons : But, as on the one hand, it muft be 
 eonfefled, that his fentiments on liberty and humanity are 
 noble and fublime, and that there is nothing trite or vulgar 
 in the Charaderiftics; fo, on the other, it cannot be denied, 
 that the ideas he had formed of the goodnefs and excellency 
 of our nature, were as romantic and chimerical as they are 
 beautiful and amiable ; that he laboured hard to unite £wo 
 contraries that can never be reconciled together, innocence 
 of manners, and worldly greatnefs ; that to compafs this 
 end, he favoured deifm, and, under pretence of lafTiing 
 prieftcraft and fuperftition, attacked the Bible itfelf ; and, 
 laftly, that by ridiculing many pafTages of Holy Writ, he 
 feems to have endeavoured to fap the foundation of all re- 
 vealed religion, with delign of eitablifhing Heathen virtue on 
 the ruins of Chriftianity. 
 
 F I N I S. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 t/lBELARD, page 334. 
 
 Abfurd, nothing- is thought fo that we 
 
 have been 11 fed to. 367. 
 Absurdities in facred matters not incompa- 
 tible with politenefs and worldly wif- 
 dom, 413,414,415,422. 
 [ Acclamations made at church, 369, 
 I Accomplifinefils. The foundation of them 
 is laid in our youth, 508. 
 A hnoivledgvient due to anceftcrs, 202. 
 Adlive, ftirring man. The difference be- 
 tween fuch a one, andaneaiy indolent man 
 iu the fame circumflances, 338 to 346. 
 Adam, /ill men are his defendants, 402. 
 Was not predcuinated to fall, 429. A 
 miraculous production, 485. 
 Admin f ration, the civil, how it ought to 
 be^ contrived, 495. What men it re- 
 quires, ibid. Molt branches of it feem 
 to be more difficult than they are, 496. 
 Is wifely divided into feveral branches, 
 ibid. Is a fhip that never lies at anchor, 
 ■504; 
 Affections of the mind mechanically influ- 
 ence the body, 376. 
 
 ?, 441. Would have 
 with the prefent plan, 
 igbt take place, 447. 
 
 , 48-3. lucon- 
 n nature, 452. 
 
 Sght, 207. 
 
 at. '1 he recommence 
 
 cw, 20. Proved from his 
 
 ibid. Another demonftra- 
 
 :ailty, 212. 
 
 events, his abfurd wcriLIp, 
 
 at the conquer! of it has colt, 
 
 fchei 
 
 Afeclhnate 
 
 been inconfifhent 
 
 442. " 
 Age, the 
 
 Intent with hum 
 
 Air and Space, no c 
 
 -■ the Gi 
 
 he had in v 
 
 own mouth, 
 
 tion c 
 Alt xa n 
 
 Aim 
 
 «S 
 
 Americans. The disadvantage they laboured 
 undtr, 45^, May be very ancient, ibid. 
 
 Ananas, the, or pine-apple, excels all o- 
 ther fruit, 400. 'Tow hum we owe the 
 cultivation or it in England, 401. 
 
 Anaxcforas, the only man in antiqui- 
 ty that really ceipiied riches and honour, 
 5-;i- 
 
 Anger defined, 119. Conquered by fear, 
 ibid, and 122. The operation of ftrong 
 liquors imitates that of anger, ii6. An- 
 ger defcribed, 386". 'The origin of it in 
 nature, ibid. W hat creatures have tnoft 
 
 anger, ibid. The natural way of vent- 
 ing anger is by fighting, 474. 
 
 Animal Economy. Man contributes no- 
 thing to it, 477, 
 
 Animals, all, of the fame fpecies intelli- 
 gible to one another, q66. 
 
 Antagonijis, the, of prime minifters, 500^ 
 501. Are feldom better than the mini- 
 ire rs themfelves, 504. 
 
 Afolciy, an, for feveral paffages in the 
 book, 137, 133. An apology for recom- 
 mending ignoiance, 1 82. 
 
 Applaufe, always grateful, 369. The 
 charms of it, 271. 
 
 Arts and Sciences. What encourages 
 the 0, 509. Which will always be the 
 mod lucrative, 514. 
 
 Atheifm has hid its martyrs, 128. 
 
 Atheifm ?nd Supcrfiiiioii of the fame origin, 
 4 S 7-. What people are molt in danger of 
 atheifm, ibid. Atheifm may be abhor- 
 red by men of little religion 2&~6~. 
 
 Atbeifts :• ay be men of good morals, 488. 
 = 1/2,. The reafon why it is gene* 
 rally hated, ibid. Why the fociety Hands 
 in need (fit, y . Is equally necefiary 
 vyi h prodigality, ibid. What ought to 
 be deemed as fuels, 266. 
 
 >f the Fable of the Beet, the, de- 
 fires not to conceal any thing that has 
 been fa id again ft him, 261. The reafon 
 of his fiience, ibid. How far only he de- 
 fends his book, 262. Has called it an 
 ihconfiderable trifle* and a rbapfody, 
 Was unjufriy cenfured foi confel- 
 fii g h : s vanity, 263. How far he is an- 
 fweiable for what Horatio fays, 275. Hi? ' 
 fears of what will happen, ibid. The re- 
 port of his having burnt his book, 276. 
 The preparatory contrivance this report 
 was built upon, ibid, and 277. 
 
 Aurbcrs compared to architects, 4S0. 
 Ought to be upon the fame footing with 
 their emits, 261. When mod fooiifJiiy 
 employed, 262. 
 
 Beards', the various modes concerning them, 
 
 Bears brought forth chiefly in cold coun- 
 tries, 430. 
 
 Bear-Gardens not inferior to operas, as to 
 the real vntue oi the companies that fre- 
 quent either, 301. 
 
522 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Beau Monde cenfured 333. What has al- 
 ways employed the wiihes of them, 365. 
 Are every where the judges and refiners 
 of language, 471, 472. A character of 
 a confiderable part of the beau monde 
 throughout Chriitendom, 266. The in- 
 dulgence of the beau monde cenfured, 
 ibid. Their eafy compliance with ce- 
 remonies in divine worfhip, 267. Ex- 
 ceptions from the generality of them, ib. 
 
 Bees, in, fociety is natural, in man artifi- 
 cial, 393, 394- 
 
 Beggars, their policy, 158, 159, What 
 tort of people complain of them moft, ibid. 
 
 Behaviour of modelt women, 31. Of a 
 bride and bridegroom, 33. Of undifci- 
 plined foldiers, 1 23. Or a fine gemleraan 
 
 , at his own table, 307. Abroad, ibid. 
 To his tenants, 30S. To his fervants, 
 3C9. To tradefmen, 310. Of an indo- 
 lent man of no fortune, 33S. Of an ac- 
 tive man in the fame circumftances, 339. 
 Of men meanly born, 479. Of lavages, 
 354, 355. Of the ili-bred vulgar, 466. 
 Of different parties, 504, 505. 
 
 Belief y when we deferve it, 90, 
 
 Believing. The n°cemty of it, 4SS. 
 
 Benefits that accrue from the worft of 
 people, 42 to 4S. 
 
 Blejing, a, there is nothing created that is 
 always fo, 356. The children of the 
 poor one of the greateft bieffings, 446. 
 
 Blejfings, prejudicial, 136. 
 
 Bodies, our, vifibly contrived not to iaft, 435. 
 
 Brain, the, compared to a fpring watch, 
 377. The economy of it unknown, 37S. 
 Conjectures on the uie of it, 380. Of in- 
 fants compared to a flate and a fampier, 
 3S1. The labour of the brain, 3S3. The 
 brain more accurate in women than it is 
 in men, ibid. 
 
 Brandy Shops, the qualifications required to 
 keep them, 45. 
 
 Breeding, good, a definition of it, 36. A dif- 
 courfe on it, ibid, to 38. 
 
 BrcwinganAbakingluxvulous inventions, 9S. 
 
 Britain, Great, wants ignorance, 1S9, 203. 
 
 Brutes, have privileges and inftincts which 
 men have not, 467. 
 
 Unfile, the, to be made in the world to pro- 
 cure a fcarlet or crimfon cloth, 228. 
 
 Cardinals, the moft valuable accomplish- 
 ments among, 196, 297. 
 
 Care, what ought to employ our firft, 351. 
 
 Carthaginians, Their abominable worlhip, 
 414. 
 
 Cafirati. See Eunuchs. 
 
 Cajlration, the effects of it upon the voice, 
 
 333- 
 
 Cat- calls, 371. 
 
 Cato, his character, 213. His felf-denial,264. 
 
 Centaurs, lphinxes, and dragons. Their ori- 
 gin, 426. 
 
 Chance* What it is, 448, 449. 
 
 Chancellor, the Lord, of Great Britain. 
 What he fhould be, 495. His poft re- 
 quires greater qualifications than any o- 
 ther, 498. 
 
 Charity. A definition of it, 155. Is often 
 counterfeited by our paffions, 156, 158, 
 160. The compliments paid to all the 
 appearances of charity, ibid. Abufes of 
 charity, 161, 162, 164. Often counter- 
 feited, 345. The world hates thoie who 
 detect the counterfeits, ibid. An inftance 
 of an unjuft pretence to charity, ibid. 
 
 Charity children have no opportunity to 
 learn good manners, 166. Why they are 
 pleating to the eye, 175. 
 
 Charity fchools are admired to diffraction, 
 165. What is faid in behalf of them, ibid. 
 Not capable to prevent thefts and robbe- 
 ries, ibid. The caufe of our fondnefs for 
 thofe fchools, 171. A delcription of the 
 firit rife and fubfequent fteps that are 
 made to ere<t a charity fchool, ibid, to 
 175. The jo> they give, 175. They are 
 an inexhuulnble fund for tittle-tattle, ib. 
 and 176. The charms of them to the 
 multitude, 176". The different views par- 
 tymen have in wifhmg well to them, 194, 
 195. More labour and e.oquence are laid 
 out upon them than on any other duty, ib. 
 The comfort the wicked rind in liking 
 them, 177. The true motives of the buftle 
 made about them, ibid. Arguments a- 
 gainft charity fchools, fhowing them to 
 be deftructive to the public, 17S to 203. 
 A perpetual nuriery for them, iSS. 
 
 Cha/lity, the worlds opinion about it, 267. 
 
 Children. What makesthem mannerly, 166. 
 What all delight in, 174. Labour the 
 proper province of the children of the 
 poor, 1S7. What they are indebted for 
 to parents, 420. Whether people marry 
 with defign of having them, 422. The 
 children of favages when fociable, 404. 
 
 Children of the poor, one of the greateft: 
 bieffings, 446. What their lot always 
 will be, 31 5, 316. 
 
 Chri/lianity, the effentials of, never to be 
 talked of among the beau monde, 267. 
 
 Church, going to it of the utmoft neceffity 
 to the poor, 193. 
 
 Cicero, his character, 384. He imitated 
 Plato, 264. 
 
 Cid. The fix famous lines of it cenfured. 
 476. 
 
 Cities, great flourifhing, the work of Provi- 
 dence, 493. What is requifite to govern 
 them, ibid, and 494. 
 
 Claim, the unjuft, men lay to every thing 
 that is laudable, 410, 411. 
 
 Clafi'es. The two clafies men are divided 
 into, 14. 
 
 Clcomenes begs of Horatio to accept of the 
 Fable of the Bees, and read it, 299. is de- 
 nied, ibid. Thinking Horatio dilpleafed, 
 breaks off the difcourie, 301, 301. But 
 
I N D E X. 
 
 523 
 
 Horatio owning himfelf in the wrong, is 
 periuaded to go on, 312. Shows 
 not uncharitable or ceniorious, 314. 
 Gives reafom ..edpcr- 
 
 fons ma; be ignorant of the principi 
 act from, 315. EipJ ng; de- 
 
 monfl s oi honour to fc ; 
 
 ing wj 
 
 333. Shows the falfe pretences mat are 
 made to virtue, from 337, to 349. His 
 ig mto the rile of aits 
 and inventions, 5.:. G.vcs his conjec- 
 tures concerning tne oii-in ofpc 
 from $Zj t0 5^4- Shows the inc . 
 cy ol ate fcheme w-th the 
 
 i as it is, from __: I : 
 
 his affections c ^:ure of 
 
 man, from the tendei . 
 ciau.y the ten commandments, from 453 
 : — Gi bs his opinion concerning 
 tne dim*] ent iefigns Lord i 
 his friend nave wrote with, 519. His 
 : .. 272, ict. His cellaring of 
 his own actions, 272. His averfion to 
 contempt, 273. 
 
 iled then:. -2. Their 
 A de- 
 ceitful p.ea of theirs, S9. What brings 
 
 - 
 
 ;■ matri- 
 :'•■ 9 1 - 
 ..i/i, the facial. : : Why many 
 
 the Bees, ; 
 
 iem, CI. 
 
 Comb an. 
 
 re, various as the conditions of 
 
 Coawuuubnents, the ten, are a ftrong proof 
 of the 
 
 of (bvereignty in human nature, 456. All 
 --. _ 4 
 What is implied in 
 ment, t 
 
 I. Tne two nint point at 
 latural hlindnefs and ignorace 
 
 the third 
 
 463. mrth in 
 
 affair: 
 
 Company, good. 214. The love of it not the 
 
 tude to be preferred to feme con 
 216. Love or company no virtue 
 Tne region why man loves it, 391. 
 
 ftory of a child to raife com- 
 panion, 156. See t 
 Comfiimi are Gothic, 36S. Not 
 
 begun among equals, ibid. Lofe their 
 dignity, 369. 
 
 aver a character of, 3^9. 
 
 the Remarks. 1;: to 154. 
 ue repofed in prime miniftersj 502, 
 
 wes on the origin of politenefs, 4:9, 
 
 res that could 
 make lavages affbeiates, 425, 426. Thu 
 conjecture not clathing witn any of the 
 Divine attri: at 
 
 385. 
 Conftitiition of the body. What it confute 
 in, 1: . 
 
 . that o£ 
 Great Britain, ibid, and 49S. Is chiefly 
 - taken care of in all countries, 564. 
 lions, the kind, of the beau 
 : 59. Are hurtful to the practice of 
 Gbxiftianity, ;-:. 
 
 nduftry, G, c, in, 144, 
 
 ..tuition of content. 146. Is a pre>_a- 
 
 virtue, ibid. An innai.ee of it, 14S. 
 
 content more oppollte to iuduftry than ia- 
 
 Contracls never laiting among lavages, 452. 
 Ci zm : between a mercer and a lady 
 . turner, 223 to 225. 
 
 .._-.. Defended, 477. 
 
 : people are not taxed 
 it by the beau monde, 269. 
 for, the facial : 1. 
 
 Courage, o at a ri 1. 3 2 1 . r ro teens from anger, 
 121. Spurious ana as I ige, 122, 
 
 Natural courage, good for nothing in war, 
 
 123. Stratagems to create courage. r24, 
 125, 1:9. May be procured by ducipline, 
 
 How pr.ee is mifiaken for courage, 
 1:4, A definition of artincial courage, 
 1 : ;. Why it does not appear in dangers 
 :te honour is not concerned, 329. 
 
 ifs, f 2 2. 
 
 - Princes. What procures men ad- 
 
 B, 480. 
 
 Creatures, how fame to be talked of that 
 
 si ha I any exiitence, 426. 
 Creatures, living, compared to the engine 
 80. The pro- 
 it of their number? in every fpecies 
 proportioned to the conittntption of them, 
 439. rhis is very rtonfpicuons in whales, 
 ibid. 
 
 D a wolf that eats a 
 man, than it is in a man who eats a 
 chicke 
 
 rceof it, 99. 
 r, the different ways of drawing 
 225. 
 
 the, from wild beafts, the firft irt- 
 ducem : ravages ctVociate, 4:5, 
 
 4:6. The effects of it upon man's fear, 
 ibid. 427. Objections to this conjecture, 
 
 --5- --9-45^454> 43^. 447.. 44 s - T ^ 
 :. is what our Ipecies will never be 
 
 entirely exempt from upon earth. _c2. 
 oot always the thug we fear moft, 
 
 1 24. Intertil of mo : :-., 1 c 3. ' 
 It is death ana not the m 
 
 to which our averfionisuniven.il, 23 ',457. 
 
SH 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Debate, a, about pride, and what fort of 
 people are moft affected with it, 305, 306. 
 Aboat money to fervants, 309, 31c. 
 bout the principles a fine gentleman may 
 act from, 312, 313. About which it is 
 that inclines men molt to be religious, 
 fear, or gratitude, from 410 to 410". A- 
 bout the ra\l (xeu to fociety, 425, 426 
 
 Decencies and conveniencies have a large 
 fignification, 14S. 
 
 Deifm, modern, what has increafed it in 
 this kingdom, 4S8. No greater tie than 
 atheifm, ibid. 
 
 Deity, notions worthy of the. 303. 40S. 418, 
 441, 444. 44S, the fame, unworthy, ^17, 
 418,443,444. 
 
 Defcartes, his opinion refuted, 105. 
 
 Defcription, a, of tne pleaiuies of the vo- 
 luptuous, 3$9, 400. Of the killing of a 
 bullock, 105. 
 
 Dialogues, the reputation that has been 
 gained by writing them, 265. Why they 
 are in difrepuie. ibid. 
 
 Dice, fpoken to lllultrate what chance is, 
 449. 
 
 DiJ'courfe, a, on the focial virtues according 
 to Lord Shaftibury, from •28S'' to 302. 
 On duelling, natural and artificial ecu- 
 rage, from 31 S to 333. On the different 
 effects the fame pafiions have on men of 
 different tampers, from 33S to 341. On 
 pride, and the various effects and fymp- 
 toms of it, from 3 17 to ,-.52. On the ori- 
 gin of politenefs, ,52, to 364. On com- 
 pliments tokens c: 1 ng, £cc. 
 from $66 to 377. '>n the faculty of 
 thinking, from 377, to 3^0. On the (o- 
 ciabtenefs of man, from 386 to 403. On 
 the fir ft motive that could make I 
 affociate, from 4.25 10 : 51. On the U-cond 
 flep to fociety, and the nc 
 lien laws, from 451 to 465. On i; . 
 from 466 to 4-33. Oi; d 
 relating to our nature and the origin of 
 things, from 477 tc 491. On geverment, 
 capacities, and the motives of ftudy, on 
 ministers, partiality, and the power of 
 money, to the end. 
 
 Difiiller, a, what is required to make an 
 eminent on. 
 
 Divines, what *t is we are obliged to for 
 the great numbers of them, 1 3-;. 
 
 Docility depends upon the piia:uene r s of the 
 parts, 390. L< ii if neglected in youth, 
 396. The fupenor docility in man, in a 
 great meafure owing to his remaining 
 young longer than other creatures, .'97. 
 
 Dc;;.ir. rixm, the deiire of, ail men are born 
 with it, 406. Seen in the claim of pa- 
 rents to their children, ibid. 
 
 Drcjs, the only thing by which men are 
 judged of at courts, 480. 
 
 Drunkennefs, how it is ju-.iged of, 26S. 
 
 Dry cedes and Eama-Dryadcs. 410. 
 
 Duelling, proceeds not ncm falfe notions of 
 
 honour, 130. The benefit of it to fociety, 
 131. The euftom of it not to be abolish- 
 ed, ibid. How to prevent it : ibid. Men 
 of honour would be laughed at if they 
 fcrupled it. becaufeit is a fin, 319. What 
 conliderations are flighted for it, 332. 
 
 Pueflifts, their concern chiefly ovring to 
 their Struggles between the fear of fliame 
 and ^he fear of death, 326. Seem to act 
 by enchantment, 327. 
 
 Dutch, the, not frugal from principle, 10S. 
 Their calamities under Philip II. of Spain, 
 ibid. Their other dif.-.dvantages, 109. 
 How they differ from us, ibid. Their 
 profufenefs. in. Their policy in encou- 
 raging the extravagancies of failofs 
 
 Dying, the means of, are all equally the 
 contrivance of nature, 436. It is a- much 
 requisite to die as to be born, ibid. S. ve- 
 ra! ways of dying are neceflary, 443. 
 
 Earth, the, our fpecies would have over- 
 flowed it, if there never had been tvar, 
 443- 
 
 Education, obfervations concerning it, 19, 
 23, v u refined) teaches, no humility, 305. 
 The moft effectual means to fucceed in 
 the education of children. 315. 1 
 to conceal, ancl not to conquer the pai- 
 fl >n -, 305, -37. The belt proof for the ne- 
 celhty of a good education, 476. I 
 may be miferable only for want of educa- 
 ;b2. The neceffity of a Chnttian 
 education, 48S. 4S9. ^gentleman's edu- 
 cation destructive to Chriuian humility, 
 •272. 
 
 . Mahomet, died for atheifm, 12S. 
 
 be male 
 as in other oviparous animals, 43S. 1 he 
 ufe of this, ibid. 
 
 Elements, the, are all our enemies, 219. 
 
 Emulationj mankind divided into two claf- 
 ics for emulations fake. 14. The emula- 
 tion of fchool-boys not derived from vir- 
 tue, 75. 
 
 Engl'Jbmtn do not covet Spartan greatnefs, 
 i 3 o. 
 
 a/hi, the force of it, 149. 
 73. A definition ot it, ibid. The 
 various fymptoms of it, 74, 75. Envy 
 Confpicuous in wild beads, 75. An ar- 
 gument to Show that envy is rivetted in 
 our nature, ibid. The uie of envy in 
 painters, 76. Envy has reformed more 
 bad hufbands than p id. An 
 
 inftance of envy, 77. iSobody is with- 
 out, ibid. Cato's envy to Cae.a'r, 213. 
 £• • j accounted for, 
 
 The pleas and apologies of Epi- 
 cures, 140, 141.. i he doctrine oi Lpi- 
 curus expiodeu, 4' 5, 4S6". 
 
 E/fay, an, on charity and charity fchoi 
 th moral and natural the 1 
 lis ot fociety, 237. The eauieot ; ; more 
 inquired into than that of_good, 44*« 
 
INDEX. 
 
 525 
 
 : tunuchs overvalued, 15, 34- No part of 
 
 the creation, ibid. 
 
 ition ofones felf 302, 31S, 330, 272. 
 '■ Exchequer, the wife regulations of it, 4.; 6. 
 
 In all the bufmefs belonging to it, the 
 
 conllitution does nin* parts in ten, ibid. 
 ; Exclaim, why all nations cry Oh ! when 
 
 they exclaim, 374. 
 \ Experience of greater ufe in procuring good 
 
 laws than genius, 491. 
 
 Table, the, or what is fuppofed to have oc- 
 casioned the firft dialogue, 273, 274. 
 
 Fable of the Bees, the firit part of the, quot- 
 ed. 326, 332, 436, lpoke againit, 2S0, 
 3^1, 332, 335, defended, 293, 332. — 
 What view tnebook ought to oe feen in, 
 2,2,i- The treatment it has had illus- 
 trated by a fi mile, ^2,^. Vice is no more 
 encouraged in it than robbing is in the 
 Beggar's Opera, 263. 
 I Fall, the, of man not predeftinated, 429. 
 
 Fame, what the thirit after fame confifts in, 20. 
 
 Fathers of the church delighted in accla- 
 mations whiift they are preaching, z6g. 
 
 Fear, not to be conquered by reafon, 118. 
 A definition of fear, ibid. The neceftity 
 of fear in the fociety, 122. Fear of 
 death, when the ftrongeft, 211. Fear 
 the only thing man bring? into the world 
 with him towards religion, . 40S. The 
 Epicurean axiom that fear made the gods 
 exploded, ibid, .and 409. 
 
 Fees, the power of them upon lawyers and 
 phyficians, 293. 
 
 Fifl, a viiible pn; virion made by nature for 
 their extraordinary numbers, 437. The 
 vaft confumption of them, 43 S, 439. 
 
 Flatterers of our fpecies. Why they con- 
 found what is acquired with what is na-, 
 tural, 478. 
 
 Flatt&ry no man proof againft it, iS, 316. 
 The various arts of it, 20, 21. The be- 
 ginning of it in fociety, 363. Becomes 
 lefs barefaced as politenefs mcreafes, 369. 
 
 Tlejh of animals, to eat it is a cruel piece of 
 luxury 99, ico. 
 
 Flies, 440. 
 
 Folly of infants, 4:4. 
 
 I ■•_ to be met with, 383 
 
 Footmen, the faults they are generail; 
 
 ty of in England, 159, 19c, 191. What 
 it ;s that fpoiis them, 19:. A fociety of 
 them, Iy2. 
 
 Frailties palmed upon the -world for virtues, 
 33S. 
 
 Friendjhip, never lading without difcon- 
 tent on both fides, 337. 
 
 Fright, a, pride of no ufe in it, 126". The 
 effects it had upon us, ibid. 
 
 Frowning defcribed, 373. 
 
 Frugality, a definition of it, i©5- What 
 frugality will always depend up^n, io5. 
 What has made the Dutch frugal, no. 
 A difcourfe on frugality, ibid, to 113.— 
 
 The impoffibility of forcing people to be 
 frugal without neceffity, 113. The fru- 
 gality of the: Spartans, I33. The influ- 
 ence of it on trade, ibid. When it is 
 no virtue, 338, 2>59- 
 Fulvia, the reafon why no character is 
 given of her, 273. 
 
 Game/lers, the reafon why thev conceal 
 their gettings before the iofers. ^g to 41. 
 
 Ga.jfend.us is the example the author has 
 followed in his dialogues, 274. 
 
 . many things are afcribed to genius 
 and penetration that are owing to time 
 and experience, 361. Has the leail lhare 
 in making laws, 493. 
 
 Gentleman, a tine, drawn, and the picture 
 approTed o; by Koratio,from $z& to 311. 
 Why tnere are not many fuch, from 305 
 to 3*5- 
 
 Gefiures made from the fame motive in in- 
 fants and orators, 469. The abufe of 
 them, 470. To make ufe of them more 
 natural than to fpeak without, ibid. 
 
 Gift, a great, of a late phyfkian examined 
 into, 105 to 164. 
 
 Glory, the love of, in men of refolution and 
 perfeverance, may, without other help, 
 produce all the accomplishments men can 
 be polTefied of, 312, 313, 314. A trial to 
 know whether a fine gentleman acts from 
 principles of virtue and religion, or from 
 vain glory, 317, 31S. When only toe 
 love of glory can be commendable, 324. 
 The eager purfuit of worldly giory incon- 
 fiftent tianity, 169. 
 
 Golden age not fit for fociety, ir, 220. 
 
 Governing. Nothing requires greater know- 
 ledge than the art of it, 491, 492. Is 
 built on tue knowledge of human nature, 
 493- 
 
 Government, the rife of it, 222. What is 
 the beit form of it, is yet undecided, 
 394. Is in bees the work of nature, 
 393, 394. None can fubfift without laws, 
 377, What the bell forms of it are fubjecl 
 to, 49:. 
 
 Government, the,, of a large city. What 
 fort of wifdom it requires, 493. Com- 
 pared to the knitting frames, 494. To 
 a muiical clock, ib»d. Once put into 
 giod order it may go right, though there 
 fhculd not be a wife man in it, 494. 
 
 :/-, the charms of the word to mean 
 people, 1 73. Governors of charity fchools, 
 ibid. The praifes given them, 175. 
 
 Grammar fchools, how to be managed, :ir. 
 
 Gratitude, man's, examined into, as the 
 caufe of Divine worlhip, 411, 413, 4x4. 
 
 Grmnkting. See Hive. 
 
 Happinefs on earth like the philofopher's 
 
 ftone, 3SS. 
 Hardjbips are not fuch when men are ufeel 
 
 to them, 109. 
 
526 
 
 I N -D E X* 
 
 Hats, the various modes of them, 20S. 
 
 Heroes, their great views, 20. What they 
 differ in from coward is corporeal, 126. 
 Of antiquity, chiefly famed for fubduing 
 wild beafts, 426. 
 
 Hive, Grumbling Hive, 1. Their glorious 
 condition, ibid. 2. Their knavery, 2. to 
 4. Their murmurings, 6. Jupiter makes 
 them honeft, ibid- Their converfion and 
 the effects of it upon trade, 7. to II. The 
 moral, 11. 
 
 Honejly, the effects of it on trade, 9, 132, 
 133, 134, I39. Where the mod of it is 
 to be found, 165, 166. 
 
 Honour, the genuine fignification of it, 27. 
 The figurative fenfe of it, 116. Rubs of 
 honour, ibid. 117. Principles of honour, 
 how raifed, 123. The ftandard of honour, 
 130. A new ftandard of it, ibid. The 
 latter much eafier than the firft, ibid. 
 Honour oppofite to religion, 132. The 
 great allowances of honour, ibid. Why 
 there are fo many men of real honour, 
 ibid. The principles of it extolled, 299, 
 300, 313. The fame condemned, ibid. 
 Is a chimerical tyrant, 322. Is the re- 
 fult of pride, but the fame caufe produces 
 not always the fame effect, 325. Is ac- 
 quired, and therefore no paffion belong- 
 ing to any one's nature, 326". Is not 
 compatible with the Chriftian religion, 
 329. In women more difficult to be 
 preferved than in men, 349. Is not 
 founded upon any principle of virtue or 
 religion, ibid. The fignification of the 
 word whimfical, ibid. 
 
 Hope, a definition of it. 78. The abfurdity 
 of the words certain hope, 79. 
 
 Horatio refutes to accept of the Fable of the 
 Bees, 299. Is taxed with maintaining the 
 theory of what he cannot prove to be 
 practicable, ibid. Owns that the dif- 
 courfe ot Cleomenes had made an impref- 
 iion on him, 302, Miftakes Cleomenes 
 and grows angry, 2>°Zi 3°4~ Interupts 
 him, 305, Finds fault again with Cleo- 
 menes wrongfully, and feems difpleafed, 
 310. Sees his error, begs pardon, and 
 deiires Cleomenes to go on. 311 Takes 
 upon him to be the fine gentleman's ad- 
 vocate, 317. Labours hard to juftify the 
 neceffity of duelling, 318, 319, 322. — 
 Shows the intolerable conlequencences of 
 affronts not refented, 322, 323. Accepts 
 of the Fable of the Ikes, 331. Why he 
 diflikes it, 336. Having confidered on 
 the origin of politenefs, pays a vifit to 
 Cleomenes, 367. Invites him to dinner, 
 399. Cannot reconcile the account of 
 lava *rs with the Bible, 401. Propofes 
 mutual affection as a means to make men 
 affociate, 441. Allows of the conjecture 
 about the firft ftep towards fociety, 449. 
 Comes into the fentiments of Cleomenes, 
 518. His character, 270, 271. 
 
 Horfes, not tamed by natufe, 454. What 
 
 is called vicious in them, 455. 
 Hofpitals, the necefllty of them, 164. A 
 
 caution againft the increafe of them, 
 
 ibid. 165. 
 Humility, Chriftian, no virtue more fcarce, 
 
 272. 
 Hunger a?id luft the great motives that 
 
 ftir up courage in brutes, 11S, 119. The 
 
 influence th?le appetites have upon our- 
 
 felves, 120, i2i. 
 Hutchefon, Mr. a favour afked him, 51 r. 
 Hypocrify. to deceive by counterfeiting, 
 
 297. Of fome divines, 333. Four are 
 
 never guilty of it, 338. Detected in the 
 
 pretences to content in poverty, 339, 
 
 340. When owned, 345. 
 
 Idiots, not affected with pride, 376. Made 
 by lofs of memory, 385. 
 
 Idolatry, all the extravagancies of it point- 
 ed out in the fecond commandment, 459. 
 Of the Mexicans, 460. 
 
 Ignorance, a ueceffary ingredient in the 
 mixture of fociety, 55, 179. Reafons for 
 it, ibid. Punilhments the author has to 
 fear for recommending ignorance, 1S1, 
 182. Great Britain wants it to be hap- 
 py, 203. Of the true Deity is the caufe 
 of fuperltition. 40S. 
 
 Imaginary, rewards for felf-df nial, 14. 
 
 Immortality, the, of the foul, a doctrine 
 older than Chriftianity, 138. Why (o 
 generally received, ibid. 
 
 Indolence not to be confounded with lazi- 
 nefs, 343. 
 
 Indolent eafy man, an, the difference be- 
 tween him and an active ftining man 
 in the fame circumftances, 33S to 345. 
 
 bidufry, differs from diligence, 14S. 
 
 Infants, the management or" them, 3S3. 
 Why they ought to be talked to, 381, 
 390. Imagine every thing to think and 
 'feel, 409. This folly humoured in them, 
 410. Their crying given them to move 
 pity, 467. Vent their anger by inftinct, 
 473- 
 
 Lines, the Rev. Dr. quoted, 276. His fen- 
 timents on charity, 277. 
 
 Innocence, ftate of, defcribed, 220. Preju- 
 dicial to foriety, 221. 
 
 Injects, would overrun the earth in two 
 years time if none were deftroyed, 439- 
 
 Intercjl teaches men the ufe of their limbs, 
 360. Savages to love and infants to 
 fuck, neither of them thinking on the de- 
 fign of nature, 422. All men are born 
 with an inftinct of fovereignty, 456, 457. 
 
 Invention, of fhips, 361, 362. What fort 
 of people are beft at invention, 363. No 
 liability in the works of human invention, 
 
 394- 
 Imsifible Caufe, an, how favages come to 
 fear it, 408. The perplexiiy it gives to 
 
INDEX. 
 
 5*7 
 
 Wen ignorant of the true Deity, 411, 412. 
 The wildeft parents would communicate 
 the fear of it to their children, 412. The 
 confequence of different opinions about it, 
 
 4i3>4 x 4- 
 Jealoufy, a compound, 7S. No jealoufy 
 
 without love, S2. 
 Jews, knew truths which the politeft na- 
 tions were ignorant of, 1500 years after, 
 
 421. 
 Judges, who are fit to be, 495. 
 judgment, Found what it confifts in, 3S3. 
 
 Women are as capable of acquiring it as 
 
 men, ibid. 3S4. 
 Juflice, and Injufice. What notions a fa- 
 
 vage of the firft clafs would have of ir, 
 
 4°3- 
 
 Jufice, the admintniirction of it imprac- 
 ticable without written laws, 377. 
 
 "Juvenal-, quoted on fuperftition. 460. 
 
 Knowlegde, does not make men religious, 
 165 166, 170, 193. Knowledge beyond 
 their labour is prejudicial to the poor, 
 179 iSe. Neither knowledge nor polite- 
 nefs belong to a man's nature, 48 c. 
 
 Knowing, apriori, belongs to God only, 393. 
 
 King, a, his happinefs compared to that of 
 a peafant, 193, 199. 
 
 Labour, the ufefulnefs of dividing and fub- 
 dividing it, 465. 
 
 Latnpredius, quoted, 414. 
 
 Languages, that of the eyes is underftood 
 by the whole fpecies, 497. Is too figni- 
 flcant, 468. Jfiow language might come 
 into the world from two favages, ibid. 
 Signs and geftures would not ceafe after 
 the invention of fpeech, 469. A conjec- 
 ture on the ftrength and beauty of the 
 Engliih language, 471. The reafon of it, 
 ibid. 47a. Whether French or Englifh 
 be mo»-e fit to perfuade in, 475. The 
 fame things are not beautiful in both 
 languages, ibid. The intention of op- 
 probrious language, 477. Is an equiva- 
 lent for fighting, 474. 
 
 Latin, not necefiary to write and fpell Eng- 
 lifh, 185. To whom it is prejudicial, iS6\ 
 
 Laughter, conjectures on the rationale of 
 that action, 371, 372. 
 
 Laws, fumptuary, ulelefs to opulent king- 
 doms, 153. All laws point at fome de- 
 fect or frailty belonging to human nature, 
 4<5, 456. The necellity of written laws, 
 45 5. '1 he Israelites had laws before they 
 knew Mofes, 456. What the wifeft of 
 human laws owing to, 491- Laws in all 
 countries reftrains the ufurpation of pa- 
 rents, 406. Laws of honour are pretended 
 to be fuperior to all other, 31S. Are clafh- 
 ing with the laws of God, 319. Whether 
 there are falfe laws of honour, 3 6. 
 
 Lawgivers, what they have chiefly to con- 
 £der, 454. 
 
 Lawyers, when fit to be judges, 495. 
 
 Laziuefs, a definition of it, 144. People 
 often call others lazy, becaufe they are 
 fo themfelves, ibid. A ftory of a porter 
 wrongfully fufpected oflazinefs, 145, 146. 
 
 Leaping, cunning difplayed in it, 360. 
 
 Learned fools, where to be met with, 383. 
 
 Learning, methods to promote and increafe 
 it, 182 to 1S7. How all forts of it are 
 kept up, and looked into in flourifhing 
 nations, 508, 509. How the moft ufeful 
 parts of it may be neglected for the mcfc 
 trifling, 510. An inftance of it, ibid. 
 
 Letters, the invention of them, the third 
 ftep to fociety, 455. 
 
 Lies concerning the Inviiible Caufe, 41. 
 
 Life in creatures. The analogy between 
 it and what is performed by engines that 
 raife water by the help of fire, 380. 
 
 Lion, the, defcribed, 427. What defigned 
 for by nature in Paradife, 428. Not made 
 to be always in Paradife, ibid. The pro- 
 duct of hot countries, 430. 
 
 Linen, the invention of it, the refult of deep 
 thought, 97. 
 
 Literature, moft parents that are able, bring 
 up their fons to it, 50$. 
 
 Lives, we are to judge of men from their 
 lives, and not from their fentiments, 86. 
 
 Love to their fpecies, is not more in men 
 than in other creatures, 391. 
 
 Love has two fignifications, 79. The dif- 
 ference between love and luft, 80. No 
 jealoufy without love, 82. Whether the 
 end of it is the prefervation of the fpecies, 
 423. Is little to be depended upon among 
 the ill-bred vulgar, 481. 
 
 Lovers, Platonic may find out the origin 
 of that paffion, 81. 
 
 Louanefs, a help to language, 470, 471. 
 
 Luc'uin, 265. 
 
 Lucre, a cordial in a literal fenfe, 417. 
 
 Lucretia, 124. The motive fhe acted from, 
 ibid. 125. Valued her glory above her 
 virtue, ibid. 
 
 Luft, concealed from ourfelves by educa- 
 tion, 151. 
 
 Luxury, the definition of it, 56. The ttfe- 
 fulnefs of it difcufled, 57. Luxury pro- 
 moted by the legiflature, 59. Maxims to 
 prevent the mifchiefs to be feared from 
 luxury, 60, 61. Arguments for luxury, 
 63, 64, 134. Every thing is luxury in 
 one fenfe, 97, 98. Inftances of luxury in 
 the poor, 98, ^. 
 
 Mag'frates, not the lefs obeyed for defpif- 
 ing pomp and luxury, 149. 
 
 Males, more, than females born of our fpe- 
 cies, 445. 
 
 Man naturally loves praife and hates con- 
 tempt, 14. The manner in which fa- 
 vage man was broke, 16. A dialogue 
 between a man and a lion, 102. Man has 
 no real value for his fpecies, 192. Man a 
 
52S 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 fearful "animal, 111. Is ever forced to 
 pleafe himfelf, 222. Always the fame in 
 bis nature, 137, 138-. Man in the ftate of 
 nature, 353, 354. Every man likes him- 
 ielf better than he can like any other 
 359. No man can wifh to be entirely 
 another, ibid. Always feeks after happi- 
 nefs, 333. Always endeavours to melio- 
 rate his condition, 390. Has no fondnefs 
 for his fpecies beyond other animals, 392. 
 Has a prerogative above moft animals in 
 point of time, ibid. Remains young 
 longer than any other creature, , 397. 
 May lofe his fociablenefs, ibid. There 
 can be no civilized man before there is 
 civil fociety, ibid. Man is born with a 
 defire after government, and no capacity 
 for it, 407. Claims every thing he is con- 
 cerned in, 411, 421, Is more incnufitive 
 into the caufe of evil than he is into that 
 of good, 41 1. Is born with a defire of fu- 
 periority, 420. Has been more mifchie- 
 vons to his fpecies than wild beafts have, 
 436. What gives us an iniight into the 
 nature of man, 453. Is not naturally in- 
 clined to do as he would be done by, 455. 
 Whether he is born with an inclination to 
 forfwear himfelf, 457' Thinks nothing fo 
 much his own as what he has from na- 
 ture, 47S. The higher his quality is, the 
 mcfe neceffitous he is, 389. Why he can 
 give more ample demonftrations of his 
 love than other creatures, 481. Could 
 not have exifted without a miracle, 485. 
 Mankind divided into two clafles, 14. Can- 
 not endure truths that are mortifying, 
 J33. 
 Manners, the comedy of manners, 37. The 
 doctrine of good manners has many lef- 
 fons againft the outward appearance of 
 pride, but none againft the paifion itfelf, 
 306. What good manners confift in, 335. 
 Their beginning in fociety, 363, 3o"4. 
 Have nothing to do with virtue or reli- 
 gion, ibid. See Breedhig. 
 Marlborough, the Duke of, oppofite opi- 
 nions concerning him, 505, 306. Was 
 an extraordinary genius, ibid. A Latin 
 epitaph, upon him, 506. The fame in 
 Englifli, 507. 
 Majlers of charity fchools, 166. The num- 
 ber of thofe that with to be mafters and 
 miii refies of them, 181. 
 Mathematics, of no ufe in the curative part 
 
 of phylic, 375. 
 Maxims to render people good and vir- 
 tuous, 106, 107, 108, 139. Others to 
 aggrandize a nation, 107. To make the 
 poor ferviceable, 113, 114,165 to 203. 
 To outfell our neighbour, 191. The 
 maxims advanced not injurious to the 
 poor, 198, 199. 
 Memory, the total lofs of it makes an idiot, 
 
 385. 
 Men, of very good fenfe may be ignorant of 
 
 their own frailties, 314. All men are 
 partial judges of themfelves,338. All bad 
 that are not taught to be good, 454. 
 Merchants, a ftory of two that both took 
 
 advantage of their intelligence, 25. 
 Mexicans, their idolatry, 460. 
 Milton, quoted, 228. 
 
 Mhi'i/ier, the prime ,jio fuch officer belonging 
 to our conftitution, 497. Has opportuni- 
 ties of knowing more than any other man, 
 49 S. The ftratagems played againft him, 
 499. Needs not to be a confummate 
 ftatefman, 500. What capacities he 
 ought to be of, ibid. 502. Prime minif- 
 ters not often worfe than their antago- 
 nifts, 505 
 
 Miracles, what they are, 40*7. Our origin 
 inexplicable without tfiem, 484; 485, 489, 
 490. 
 
 MJlrcfs, a, the difficulty of parting with' 
 her while we love, 82. 
 
 Mobs, not more wicked than the beau 
 monde, 301, 302. In them pride is often 
 the caufe of cruelty, 351- 
 
 Modejly, whence derived, 27. Has three 
 different acceptations, 30. The difference 
 between men and women as to modefty, 
 31,32. The caufe of it, 33. The great 
 ufe of it to the civil fociety, 80. 
 
 Money, the chief -ufe of it, 113,114. Too 
 much of it may undo a nation, ibid. Is 
 of no intrinfic worth, 189. The money 
 in different ways given to the poor, ill 
 fpent, 200, 201. Money is the root of 
 all evil, 512. The neceffity of it, in a 
 large nation, ibid. 514. 
 
 Money, will always be the ftandard of 
 worth upon earth, ibid. The invention 
 of it adapted to human nature beyond all 
 other.-!, 516. Nothing is fo univerfally 
 charming as it, ibid. Works mechani- 
 cally on the fp.rits, 517. 
 
 Money to Servants. A ihort debate about 
 it, 30$, 3C9. 
 
 Montaign, a faying of his, 354. 
 
 Moral, the, of the Grumbling Hive, ir. 
 
 Morals not always the fame, 209. 
 
 Moralijls, their artifices to civilize man- 
 kind, 13, 14. 
 
 Morality broached for the eafe of govern- 
 ment, 14. 
 
 Moreri cen'ured, 414. 
 
 Mofes vindicated, 402, 417, 42S, 483, 4S9, 
 490. 
 
 Mothers have but little love for their 
 children when they are born, 35. Mo- 
 thers and fitters in the eaft married their 
 fons and brothers, 209. 
 
 Motives. The fame may produce different 
 effects, 338. To ftudy and acquire 
 learning, 508, 509, 510. They are what 
 actions ought to be judged by only, 272. 
 
 Mufic houfes at Amfterdam defcribed, 29, 30. 
 
 Nations may be ruined by too much mo- 1 
 
INDEX. 
 
 529 
 
 jiey, 114. The great art to make na- 
 tions happy, it 5. What the wealth of 
 nations confifts in, 116, ibo. Why all 
 nations cry Oh ! when they exclaim, 374. 
 In large flourishing nations, no forts of 
 learning will be neglected, 511, 512. 
 
 Natural- Many things are called So, that 
 are the product of art, 367. How we 
 may imitate the countenance of a natu- 
 ral fool, 376. Why it is difplealing to 
 have what is natural distinguished trom 
 what is acquired, 478, 479. 
 
 Nature not to be followed by great maS- 
 ters in painting, 282. Great difference 
 between the worKs of art, and thofe of 
 nature, 393, 394. Nature makes no 
 trials or ellays, 394, What fhe has con- 
 tributed to all the works of art, 395. 
 She forces feveral things upon us mecha- 
 nically, 373. Her great wifdom in giv- 
 ing pride to man, 386. All creatures are 
 under her perpetual tutelage, 421. And 
 have their appetites of her as well as their 
 food, ibid- 422. Nature feems to have been Partiality is a general frailty, 506. 
 
 Origin of moral virtue, 13. Of courage 
 and honour 1 17 Of politenefs, 3J3 to 
 364. Of fociety, 404. 4~ 4*5- of 
 all things, 485 486. The moft pro- 
 bable account of our ohgu 4S8. 
 
 Ornaments befpeak the value we have for 
 the thing adorned, 479- whal makes 
 me: n unwilling to have them feen fepa- 
 rately, ibid. 
 
 OJlracifn, 7S. A definition of it, ibid. 
 
 Pain limited in this life, 437. 
 
 Painters blamed for being too natural, 28 > 
 
 Painting. A difcourfe concerning it, and 
 the judges of it, 206 to 208. How the 
 people of the grand gout judge of it, *8l. 
 
 Parable, a, 1 41 to 1 43. 
 
 Paradife. the ltate of it miraculous, 428, 
 4:4, 485. 
 
 ParenU. The unreafonablenefs of them, 
 406, 421. Compared to inanimate uten- 
 fils, 423, 424. Why to be honoured, 462. 
 The beneht we receive from them, ibid, j 
 
 more folicitous for the destruction, than 
 ihe has been for the preservation of indi- 
 viduals, 440. Has made an extraordina- 
 ry provifion in fifli to preferve their fpe- 
 cies, 439. Her impartiality, 440. The 
 ufefuinefs of expoSing the deformity of 
 untaught nature, 474. She has charged 
 every individual with the care of it- 
 felf, 511. 
 "Nature, human, is always the fame, 369. 
 The complaints that are made againit it 
 are likewife the fame every where, 455. 
 The ufefuinefs of it is vilible in the dia= 
 logue, 456, 449. 
 Navigation. The bleffings and calamities 
 
 of the fociety on account of it, 231. 
 Necejaries of life. The multiplicity of 
 
 them, 57, 58, 1.78. 
 Noah, 401. An objection ftated concern- 
 ing his defcendants, ibid. 402. 
 No'ife made to a man's honour is never 
 mocking to him, 370. Of Servants, why 
 difplealing, 371, 
 
 Fqflion. What it is to play that of pride a- 
 gainft itfelf, 315, 350. How to account 
 for the paffions, 3^.6. 
 Perfonages introduced in dialogues. The 
 danger there is in imitating the ancients 
 in the choice of them, 264. Caution of 
 the moderns concerning them, ibid. 
 When they are difplealing, ibid. It is 
 belt to know Something of them before 
 hand, 266, 
 Philaletbes, an invincible champion. 265. 
 Phyfzcian, a late, his character, joz. The 
 motives of his laSt will, 163. The facial, 
 292. Fhyficians are ignorant of the con- 
 itituent parts of things, 375. 
 Phyfic, mathematics of no ufe in it, 375. 
 Pity. A difcourfe concerning it. 157. No 
 virtue, and why, 21. Nobody without, 
 157. A definition of it, 156. The 
 force of pity, ibid. Pity more conSpicu- 
 ous than any pretended virtue, Ij 7. 
 Plaees of honour and truft. What perfons 
 they ought to be filled with, 495 
 
 Nola, Jordanus Bruno of, died for atheifm, Plarues. The fatality of them, 434. 
 
 128. Plato. His great capacity in writing dia- 
 
 logues, 265. 
 Oaths. What is requifite to make them Pleas, deceitful, of great men, 92,93, 94. 
 
 ufeful in fociety, 452,453. And exeuies of worldly men, 270, 271. 
 
 Obedience, human, owing to parents, 463. Pleafures, real, 8 3. PieaSures oS the volup- 
 
 ObjeRions againft the necefiity of pride an- 
 v fwered, 66, 6j. An objection to the 
 
 manner of managing the dialogues, 2/4- 
 Objlacles to happinefs we meet with, 219. 
 Operas extravagantly commended, 284, 
 
 285, &c. Compared to bear gardens, 301. 
 JOpera, Beggars, injurioufly cenfured, 263. 
 Opinions. The ab Surdity of them in facred 
 
 matters, 338. How people of the fame 
 
 tuous, ibid. .84. Of the Stoicks, 85. The 
 more men differ in condition, the lefs they 
 can judge of each other's pleafures, 198, 
 Politenefs demands hypocrify, 32, 223. Ex- 
 poled, 332, T>2>2>-> auQ 27°« The ufe of 
 it, 351, 352. The leedsofit lodged in 
 felf-love and Self-liking, 355. How it is 
 produced from pride, 3^9. A philofo- 
 pliical reafon for it, ibid. 
 
 kingdom differ in opinion about their Polite, a, preacher. What he is 10 avoid* 
 chiefs, 505. 2,0(5, 267. 
 
 Mm 
 
53$ 
 
 INDEX, 
 
 Politics, The foundation of them, 16. 
 What is owing to bad politics, is charged 
 to luxury, 60. 
 
 Politicians play our paflions againft one 
 another Si, 123. The chief bufinefs of 
 a politician, 493. 
 
 Polygamy, not unnatural, 209. 
 
 Ptor, the, would never work if they did 
 not want, 1 13. The plenty of provifions 
 depends on the cheapnefs of their labour, 
 
 x 114, 178. Qualifications required in the 
 labouring poor, ibid. 179. What they 
 ought not to grumble at, 1S6. Great 
 numbers of poor are wanting, 201. The 
 mifchiefs arifing from their not being 
 well managed, 188. Not to be fuffer- 
 ed to flay from church on Sundays, 193. 
 The petty reverence that is paid to the 
 poor, injurious, 195. Which fort of them 
 are molt ufeful to others, and happy in 
 themfelves, and which are the reverfe, 
 515. The corrfeqnences of forcing edu- 
 cation upon their children, ibid. 516. 
 
 Popes- W T hat is chiefly minded m the 
 choice of them, 297. 
 
 Poverty, voluntary, brings nobody into 
 contempt, 89. An inftance of that 
 truth, 90. Very fcarce, 341. The only 
 man in antiquity that can be faid to have 
 embraced it, ibid. The greateft hard- 
 fhip in poverty, 343. 
 
 Praife, is the reward all heroes have in 
 view, 23. 
 
 Prsiejlinntion, an unexplicable myftery, 
 429,441. 
 
 Preferment. What men are raoft like to 
 get it, en. 
 
 Pretences, faife, of great men concerning 
 pleaiure, 95. 
 
 Pride, 5. What anin-.als fliow the mod of 
 it, 15. The pride of men of fenfe, 38. 
 A definition of pride, 66. The apologies 
 ot proud men, and the falfities of them 
 detected, ibid. 6j. Various fymptoms 
 of pride, 30, 71. How it is encouraged 
 in military men, 129. The benefit we 
 receive from the pride of great men, 130. 
 The power of pride, 304, 305. No pre- 
 cepts againft it in a refined education, 
 506. Increafes in proportion with the 
 fenfe of lhame, 315. What is meant by 
 playing the paffion of pride againft itfelt, 
 ibid. Is able to blind the ur.derftanding 
 in men of fenfe, ibid. 316. In the caule 
 of honour, 324. Fride is moft enjoyed 
 when it is' well led, 331. Why more 
 predominant in feme than in others, 347. 
 Whether women have a greater fhare of 
 it than men, 348. Why more encourag- 
 ed in women, ibid. 1 he natural and 
 •artificial fymptoms of it, 350, 351. Why 
 the artificials are more excufable, 331. 
 In whom the paffion is moft troublefome, 
 ibid. To whom it is moft eafy to ftifle 
 
 it, ibid. In what creatures it is moft 
 confpicuous, 353- The difguifes of it, 357. 
 Who will team to conceal it fooneft, 
 361. Is our moft dangerous enemy, 474. 
 
 Principle. A man of honour, and one that 
 has none, may aft from the fame princi- 
 ple, 324. Reafons why the principle of 
 felt-efteem is to be reckoned among the 
 paflions, ibid. 325. Honour not built 
 upon any principle either of religion or 
 virtue, 349. Principles moft men adl 
 from, 511, 512. 
 
 Prodigality, 54. The ufe of it to the fo- 
 ciety, ibid. 152. 
 
 Propofal, a, of a reverend divine for an hu- 
 man faenfice to complete the folemnity 
 of a birth day, 277. 
 
 Providence faved our fpecies from being 
 deftroySd by wild beafts, 431, 433. A 
 definition of it, 431, The railing of 
 cities and nations the work of Provi- 
 dence, 492. 
 
 Provifions, how to procure plenty of them, 
 114, 115, 178. 
 
 Prudence, 458. 
 
 Public fpirit has left the nation, 201. The 
 fymptoms of the want of it, ibid. 202, 
 An exhortation to retrieve it, 203. 
 
 Pulchrum, the, Honejlum of the ancients, 
 a chimera, 210. 
 
 Punch, the fociety compared to a bowl of 
 punch, 55. 
 
 Purpcfes. Fire and water are made for 
 many that are very different from one an- 
 other, 435. 
 
 Qualifications. The moft valuable in the"be- 
 ginmng of fuciety would be ftrength, agi- 
 lity, and courage, 452. 
 
 Qualities, the hateful, of women more be- 
 neficial to trade than their virtues, 137. 
 The good qualities of man do not make 
 him fociable, 218. Which are the beft 
 for the fociety, 227. 
 
 Qr/arrels- how to prevent them, 318. The 
 caufeof them on account of religion, 4^3. 
 Occafioned by the word predeftination, 
 429. A quarrel between two learned 
 divines, 510. 
 
 ^j/e/lion, which has done the moft mif- 
 chief, 209, 
 
 Qziixot, Don, the laft man of ancient ho- 
 nour upon record, 1 1 7. 
 
 Reading and nvriting, why hurtful to the 
 poor, 180. Never to be taught for no- 
 thing, 1S6. Not neceffary to make good 
 Chriftians, 193. 
 
 Reality of pleafures difcufied, 85, 86. 
 
 Reafon, a, why few people underftand 
 themfelves, 12. Why our neighbours 
 outdo us at foreign markets, 196, 197. 
 
 Reafon is acquired, 396. The art of rea- 
 foning not brought to perfection in many 
 7 
 
INDEX. 
 
 S3* 
 
 ages, 417. The (trefs men lay upon their 
 reaiun is hurtful to faith, 4S7, 269. 
 
 Refer/nation, the, of lefs moment to trade 
 than hooped petticoats, 22S. 
 
 Religion not the caufe of virtue, 17. Of 
 the heathens abfurd, 40. Where there 
 is the lead of it, 165, I93. Things pafs 
 for religion that are foreign to it, 175 
 The Chriftian, the only folid principle, 
 332, 48 S. Came into the world by mi- 
 racle, 437. What was not revealed is 
 not worthy to be called religion, 403.— 
 The firft propenfity towards religion, not 
 from gratitude in lavages, 411. 
 
 Religious houfes examined, 87, 83. 
 
 Reneau, Monfieur, accounts mechanically 
 for the failing and working of fhips, 362. 
 
 Refpecl, whether better fhown by filence 
 or by making a noife, 371. 
 
 Revenge, what it mows in our nature, 458. 
 
 Reverence, the ingredients of it, 405. II- 
 luftrated from the decalogue, 461. The 
 weight of it to procure obedience, 46a. 
 
 Riches, the contempt of them very fcarce, 
 341. Lavifhnefs no fign of it, ibid. 
 
 Ridicule, the Lord Shaftibury's opinion con- 
 cerning it, 296. 
 
 Right, the, which parents claim to their 
 children is unreafonable,- 406, 413, 414. 
 
 Rigit and wrong, the notions of it are ac. 
 quired, 418, 419, 420. 
 
 Rogues, not made for want of reading and 
 writing, 169. Are oftener very cun- 
 ning than ignorant, 17©. 
 
 Roman Catholics are not fubjecls to be re- 
 lied upon, but in the dominions of his 
 holinefs, 329. 
 
 Rome, new, is obliged to old Rome, 203. 
 Rome, the court of the greatett academy 
 of refined politics, 197. Has little re- 
 gard for religion or piety, ibid. 
 
 Rub, a, to know what is natural from what 
 is acquired, 478. 
 
 RuJJia wants knowledge, 203. 
 
 Sabbath, the, the ufefulnefs of it in worldly 
 affairs, 464. 
 
 Savages of the flrft clafs are not to be made 
 fociable when grown up, 355. It would 
 require many years to make a polite na- 
 tion from favages, ibid. The defend- 
 ants of civilized men may degenerate 
 into favages, 401, 450. There are fa- 
 vages in many parts of the world, 403. 
 Savages do all the fame things, 465 — 
 Thofe of the firft clafs could have.no 
 language, 466. nor imagine they want- 
 ed it, ibid. Are incapable of learning 
 any when full grown, ibid. 
 
 Savage, a, of the firft clafs of wildnefs 
 would take every thing to be is own, 
 403. Be incapable of governing his off- 
 fpring. 405. Would create reverence in 
 his child, 404. Would want conduct, 
 406. Could only worfhip an iayifible 
 
 caufe out of fear, 40S. Could have no 
 notions of right or wrong, 418. Propa- 
 gates his fpecies by inftinct, 422. Con- 
 tributes nothing to the exiftence of his 
 children as a voluntary agent, 423. The 
 children of his bringing up would be all 
 fit for fociety, 426. 
 
 Scarlet or crimfon cloth, the buftle to be 
 made in the world to procure it, 22S, 229 
 
 Scheme, the, of deformity, the fyftem of the 
 Fable of the Bees, fo called by Horatio, 
 279, 281. 
 
 Scheme, the, or plan of the globe, requires 
 the destruction as well as generation of 
 animals, 436. Mutual affection to our 
 fpecies would have been deftructive to it, 
 443- 
 
 Scolding, and calling names, befpeaks fome 
 degree of poiiteneis,-473. The practice 
 of it couid not have been introduced 
 without felf-denial at firft, 274. 
 
 Sea, the, bleffings and calamities we receive 
 from it, 230 to 235. 
 earch, a, into the nature of fociety, 205, 
 to 238. 
 
 Security of the nation. What a great part 
 of it confifts in, 503. 
 
 Self-Hking different from felf-loTe, 353. 
 Given by nature for felf-prefervaticn, ib. 
 The effect it has upon creatures, ibid, 
 and 356". Is the caufe of pride, 354. 
 What creatures do not fhow it, ibid. 
 W.iat benefit creatures receive from felf- 
 liking, 355. Is the caufe of many evils, 
 ibid. Encomiums upon it, 357. Suicide 
 impracticable while felf-liking tails, ibid. 
 
 Self/hnefs, the, of human nature, viftble in 
 the ten commandments, 455, 456. 
 
 Self-love, the caufe of fuicide, 257. Hates 
 to fee what is acquired feparated from 
 what is natural, 478. 479. 
 
 Self-denial, a glorious inftance of it, 90. 
 
 Seneca, W%fummum bonum, 86. 
 
 Servants, the fcarcity of them occafioned 
 by charity fchools, and the mifchief it 
 produce?, 1S9, 193, 191. Their encroach- 
 ments on matters, 192, 195. 
 erv.ee s, reciprocal, are what fociety con- 
 fifts :n, 513. Are impracticable without 
 money, 514. 
 
 Sbaftjbury, Lord, his fyftem contrary to the 
 author's, 205. Refuted by his own cha- 
 racter, 210. Remarks upon him for jeft- 
 ing with revealed religion, 292, 519. 
 For holding joke and banter to be the 
 beft and fureft touchfto:>e to try the 
 worth of things by. 296. For pretending 
 to try the feviptures by that teit, ibid. 
 Was the firft who held that virtue re- 
 quired no felf-denial, 337. Encomiums 
 en him, 296, 519. 
 
 Shame, a definition of it, 27. What makes 
 
 us afhamed of the faults of others, 2S. 
 
 The fymptoras of it. 29- The uftfulnefs 
 
 of it to make us fociable, 30 to 33. Its 
 
 M nj z 
 
$3% 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 real pafflon in our nature, 328. The 
 ftruggle between the fear of it and 
 that of death, is the caufe of the great 
 concern of men of honour, in the affair of 
 duelling, 325, 328. The fame fear Of 
 fhame that may produce the moft wor- 
 thy actions, maybe the caufe of the moft 
 heinous crimes, 349. 
 
 Shame, the fenfe of, the ufe that is made of 
 it in the education of children, 315. Is 
 not to be augmented without increafing 
 pride, ibid; 
 
 Ships are the contrivance of many ages, 
 361. Who has given the rationale of 
 working and (leering them, 362, 363. 
 
 Simile, a, to : illuftrate the treatment that 
 has been given to the Fable of the Bees, 
 
 333, 335- 
 
 Sighing deicribed, 373. 
 
 Signs and ge/lures, the fignificancy of them, 
 466, 467. Confirm words, 469. Would 
 not be left off after the invention of 
 fpeech, ibid. Added to words are more 
 perfuading than fpeech alone, ibid. 
 
 Sociable* man not fo from his good qualities, 
 213, to 219. What it is that makes us 
 fociable, ibid 
 
 Sociablenefs, the love of our fpecies not the 
 caufe of it, 3S7, 391. Erroneous opinions 
 - about it, 3S8, 389. Reafons commonly 
 given for man's fociablenefs, ibid. Great 
 part of man's fociabJenefs is loft if ne- 
 glected in his youth 390. What it con- 
 fifts in, 392, 393, 3 ','4. The principle of 
 it is the work of Providence, 393. Mu- 
 tual commer:.e is to man's lociablenefs 
 what fermentation is to the vinofity of 
 wine, 395. Sociablertefs in a great mea- 
 fi.re owing to parents, 46*3. 
 
 Social Svjte'm, the manner of it in judging 
 of ftate-minifters and politicians, 187. 
 Of the piety of princes, 288. Of foreign 
 wars, ibid. 2S9. Of luxury, ibid. 
 
 Social 'virtue, according to the fyftem of 
 Lord Shaftfbury, discovered in a poor wo- 
 man, who b inds her ton apprentice to a 
 chimnty-fweeper, 289. On lawyers ?.nd 
 phytic tans, 292. On clergymen, ibid. Is 
 of little ufe unlets the poor and meaner 
 fort of peoole can be poflefled of it, ibid. 
 
 Social toyman, the, defcribed. 295. 
 
 Society, no crearures without government 
 Jefs* fit tor it than man 13, 221. The fo- 
 ciety compared to a bowl of punch, 55. 
 The defects of it mould be mended by 
 the legifiature, aoa. The nature of ib- 
 ciety, 1S7,; 205. Man's love for' foci; ty, 
 exa. lined into. 213, to 2:7. Cautions to 
 be ufed in judging of man's fit nets for fo- 
 ot ty 387 to "91. Is of human invention, 
 303. Man is made for it as grapes are 
 for wine, ibid. What man's fitnefs in it 
 confifts in, 395. Might arife from pri- 
 yate families of lavages, 398, 403. Pif- 
 
 faculties that would hinder favages" frorH 
 it, 404, 405. The firft ftep towards it 
 would be their common danger from 
 wild beafts, ibid. The fecond ftep they 
 would be in, would be the danger from 
 one another, 451. The third and Tad 
 would be the invention of letters, 453. 
 Civil fociety is built upon the vanity of 
 our wants, 513- Temporal happinefs is 
 in all large focieties, as well to be obtain- 
 ed without fpeech, as without money, 514, 
 
 Soldiers, their paultry finery, 129. The 
 ufage they receive, ibid. 130. The altera- 
 tion it makes on them when they turn 
 foldiers, 174. 
 
 Som?nu?ia-Codom, 489 ■ 
 
 Soul, the, compared to an architect, 377. 
 We know little of it that is not revealed 
 to us, 380. 
 
 Spartans, their frugality, 149. 
 
 Species, the ftrength of our fpecies unknown, 
 127. The love to our fpecies an idle pre- 
 tence, 213, 227. The high opinion we 
 have of it hurtful, 269. 
 
 Speech, though a characteriftic of our fpecies 
 mult be taught, 397. Is not to be learned 
 by people come to maturity, if till then 
 they never had heard any, ibid, 466. 
 Want of it eafily fupplied by figns 
 among two favages of the tuft clafs, 467-. 
 Whether invented to make our thoughts 
 known to one another, 392. The firft 
 defign of it was to purfuade, ibid. Low- 
 nefs of tpeech a piece of good manners, 
 471. The effect it has, 472. 
 
 Sp'uiofifm, 486. 
 
 State/man, a confuniraate, what he ought 
 to be, 500. The fcarcity of thofe whs 
 deferve the name, ibid. 
 
 Steele, Sir Richard, his elegant flatteries of 
 his fpecies, 19. 
 
 Stoics, their pleafures, 85. Their arrogance 
 and hypocrily, ibid. 
 
 Study, hard, whether men fubmit to it to 
 ferve their country or themfelves, 511, 
 5*3- 
 
 Suicide, never committed but to avoid 
 'omething worfe than death, 124. 
 
 Sun, the, not made for this globe only, 433. 
 
 Sunday, the moft uteful day in feven, 193., 
 What it is fet apart for, ibid. 
 
 Superiority of nnderftanding in man, when 
 moft vifibly ufeful, 477. When difad- 
 vantageous, 478. 
 
 SuperjUtion, the objects of it, 459, 460. 
 What fort of people are moft in danger 
 of falling into it, 487. 
 
 Sjiperfitious men may blafpheme, 487. 
 
 Symptoms of pride, natural and artificial,, 
 35°- 
 
 Syfiem, the, that virtue requires no felf-de- 
 nial is dangerous, 337. The reafon, ibid. 
 
 Tears, drawn from us from different caufes* 
 374- 
 
f N D £ 1 
 
 S3$ 
 
 temperance > perfonal, makes no rulers 
 (lighted that have real power, 93, 94. 
 
 Temple, Sir William, animadverted upon, 
 398. A long quotation from him, ibid. 
 390. 
 
 Tennis play, fpdke of to illuftrate what 
 chance is, 448, 449. 
 
 Thefts and robberies, the caufes of them in 
 great cities, 167, 168, 169. 
 
 Theology, the molt neceflary faculty, 184. 
 
 Thinking, where performed, 377. What 
 it confifts in, 378, 380, Immence differ- 
 ence of the faculty of it, 382. Acquired 
 by time and practice, 396. 
 
 Thought operates upon the body, 377. 
 
 Time, great difficulty in the divilion of it, 
 464. The Sabbath a confiderable half in 
 it, ibid. 
 
 Traders, none ftridly honeft, 25. Why all 
 take fuch pains to hide the prime coft of 
 their goods, 39. 
 
 Trades, a difcourfe on the various trades re- 
 quired, and the numbers in each, 188, 
 189. 
 
 Traffic. What it is that promotes it, 230. 
 
 Treafurer, the Lord, whom he obeys at pe- 
 ril* 407- 
 
 Treafury, what the management ot it re- 
 quires, 496, 497. 
 
 Trooper, why worfe than a foot foldier, 129. 
 
 Tmth, impertint in the iubiime, 33 1. Not 
 to be minded in painting, 283. 
 
 Vanhii, a martyr foratheifm, 128'. 
 
 Vanity may be owned by modeft men, 263, 
 264. 
 
 Vice, a definition of it, 17. Has the fame 
 origin in man as it has in hori'es, 455. 
 Why the vices of particular men may be 
 faid'to belong to the whole fpecies, 45S. 
 Vice is expofed in the Fable of the Bees, 
 262. What it confifts in, 364. Why bare- 
 faced vice is odious, 368. 
 
 Views, the different, things may be fet in, 
 228, 233. 
 
 Uui-verfities, their policy, 163- Ours are 
 defective as to law and phyfic, 182, 183. 
 What univerfities mould be, ibia. 184. 
 
 Virgins, rules how to behave themljelves, 31 . 
 
 Virtue, the origin of moral virtue, 13. A 
 definition of virtue, 17. Not derived 
 from religion, ibid. What excited the an- 
 cients to heroic virtue, 18. How virtue 
 is made friends with vice, 41 . No virtue 
 without felt-denial, 88, 205. Where to 
 look for the virtues of great men, 96. 
 The reafon why there are lb few men of 
 real virtue, 132. Confifts in action, 211. 
 Jn the fenfe ot the beau monde imbibed 
 at operas, 287. What moft of the beau 
 monde mean by it, 267. Real virtue not 
 more to be found at operas than at bear 
 gardens, 301. A trial whether a fine gen- 
 tleman ads from principles of virtue and 
 religion, or from Yaio glory, 3 T 7» 5*§» ft 
 
 requires felf-denial, 337. Falfe pretences 
 to virtue, 338, t>?>9, 344- No virtue more 
 often counterfeited than charity, 345, 
 346. Virtue is not the principle from 
 which men attain to great accomplifh- 
 ments, 508, 511, 512. Is the moft va- 
 luable treafure, 513. Yet feldom hearti- 
 ly embraced without reward, ibid. Na 
 virtue more fcarce than Chriftian humili- 
 ty, 271. 
 
 Virtuous, when the epithets is improper, 
 337. Actions are called virtuous, that 
 are manifeftly the refult of frailties, 339. 
 There are virtuous men ; but not fo ma- 
 ny as is imagined, 504. 
 
 Vil^liput^li. Idol of the Mexicans, 460. 
 
 Unity, the, of a God, a myftery taught by 
 Moles, 416. 
 
 Under/landing, man's fuperior, has defeat- 
 ed the rage of wild beads, 429. When 
 found moft ufeful, 476". Difadvantages in 
 favages, 47 7, 
 
 Wars. The caufe of them, 44a. What 
 
 would have been the confequence, if 
 
 there never had been any, ibid, 445, 446. 
 
 Watermen. Their manner of plying, 226. 
 
 Waters, ftrong. Their bad effect on the 
 
 poor, 44. 
 Watches and clocks. The caufe of the 
 plenty, as well as exactnefsof them, 465, 
 Weeping, a fign of joy as well /is forrow. 
 374. A conjecture on the caufe of it, ib, 
 Whales. Their food, 436. Why the eco- 
 nomy in them is different from other fifh,. 
 ib. 
 Whores. The neceffity there is for them, 
 
 50, 51, 52. 
 Wild heajts. The danger from them the 
 firft ftep towards fociety, 425. Always 
 to be apprehended whilft focieties are 
 not well fettled, ib. 426, 431-, 432, 450. 
 Why our fpecies was never totally extir- 
 pated by them, 430, 433. The many 
 mifchiefs our fpecies has fuftained from 
 them, 426, 429, 433, 434. Have never 
 been fo fatal tg any fociety of them as of- 
 ten plagues have, ib. Have not been fo 
 calamitous to our fpecies as man him- 
 felf, 437. Are part of the punilhment 
 after the fall, 450. Range now in many 
 places where once they were rooted out, 
 ib. Our fpecies will never be wholly free 
 from the danger of them, ib. 
 Wild boars. Few large forefts without, fti 
 temperate climates, 432. Great renown, 
 has been obtained in killing them, ib. 
 Will, the, is fwayed by our paffions, 425. 
 Wifdom, the Divine, very remarkable hi 
 the contrivance of our machines, 375, 
 407. In the different inftincts of crea- 
 tures, 430, 462. 463. In the feconcl 
 commandment, 459. Acts with original 
 certainty, 391 Becomes ftill more con- 
 fpiciious as, our knowledge increaies, 4pS-. 
 
534 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Wifdom mnft be antecedent to the things 
 contrived by it, 486. 
 
 Wives, more often put men on dangerous 
 projects than miftreffes, 134. 
 
 Wolves, only dreadful in hard winters, 434. 
 
 Woman, a favage, of the firft clafs would 
 not be able to guefs at the caufe of her 
 
 1 pregnancy, 44a, 
 
 Women may be made wicked by modefty, 
 35. Modeft women promote the intereft 
 of proftitutes, 49. The ill qualities of 
 them beneficial to trade, 13410136. The 
 artifices of married women, 135, I36. 
 Women are equal to mea in the faculty 
 
 of thinking, 383. Excel them in the 
 ftructure of the brain, 3S4, 
 
 Work, the, yet to be done among us, 300. 
 
 Works of art lame and imperfect, 394. 
 
 Worfiip, Divine, has oftener been perform- 
 ed out of fear, than out of gratitude, 410, 
 415. 4i6. 
 
 Wrongbeads, who. think vice encouraged, 
 when' they fee it expofed, %6$* 
 
 Touth, a great part of man's fociablenefs 
 owing to the long continuances of it, 30 f> 
 
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