/ ?) /' // /S77 THREE TREATISES. The Fi rst Concerning ART. The Second Concerning MUSIC,- PAINTING, ahd POETRY. The Third Concerning HAPPINESS. By 'JTfe a>i^v-<« LONDON: Printed by H. Wood fall, jm. For J. Nourse, without Temple-Bar-, and P. Va ill ant, facing Southampton- fired in the Strand.' , M DCC XL»V. Advertifement to the Reader. xf /N the Treatifes here publijhed, there is the following Connection. Thefrfi treats of Art . in its mojl comprebenfive Idea, when confidered as a Genus to many Subordinate Species, The fecond confiders three of thefe fubordinate Species, whofe Beauty and. Elegance are well known to all. The lajl treats of that Art, which refpeSls the Conduct of Human Life, and which may jujlly be valued, as of all Arts the mojl important, if it can truly lead us to the End propofed. TREATISE the First: CONCERNING A R T, A DIALOGUE TO T H E Right Honourable the EARL of SHAFTESBVRT. CONCERNING A R T, A DIALOGUE To the Right Honourable the Earl of Shaftesbury. My Lord, THE following is a Converfation in its kind fomewhat uncom mon, arid for this reafon I have remembered it more minutely than I could imagine. Should the fame Peculiarity prove a Reafon to amufe your Lordfhip, I mail think myfelf well rewarded m the Labour of reciting. If not, you are candid enough to accept of the Intention, and to think there is fome kind of Merit even in the Sincerity of my Endeavours. To make no longer Preface, the Fadt was as follows. B 2 A 4 Concerning A R T, A Ft i en d from a djftant Country hav* ing by chance made me a-Vifit, we were tempted by the Serenity of a chearful Morn ing in the Spring, to Walk from S — r—m t6 fee Lord P-^mbr-rvke's at W—it—n. The Beauties of Gardening, Architecture, Paint ing, and Sculpture belonging to that Seat, were the Subject of great Entertainment to my Friend: Nor was I, for my own part, Jefs delighted than he was, to find that our Walk had fo well anfwered his Expectations. We had given a large Scope to our Curiofi- ty, when we left the Seat, and leifurely be gan our return towards home. And here, my Lord, in paffing over a few pleafant Fields, commenced the Con- verfation which I am to tell you, and which fell at firft, as was natural, on the many curious Works, which had afforded us both fo elegant an Amufement. This led us in-? fenllbly to difcourfing upon ART, for we both agreed, that whatever we had been g.dmiring of Fair and Beautiful, eould all be referred. A .Dial6gv& 5 deferred to no other Carife. And here, I Well remember, I called upon my Friend to give me his .Opinidh upon the meaning of the Word ART : A Word it Was (I told him) in the Mouth of every one ; but for all that,, as to its precife and definite Ideai this might ftill be a Secret ; that fo it was in. fact with a th&ufand Words betide* all no lels common, and equally familiar, and yet all of them equally vague" and undetermined*. To this he anfwered, That as to the pre- cife and definite Idea of Art, it was a Que^ ftion of fome Difficulty, and not fo foon to be refblved j that, however, he could not con^ ceive a more likely Method of coming to know it, than by confidering thofe feveral Particulars, to each of which we gave the Name. It is hardly probable, faid he, th.at Mufic, Painting, Medicine, Poetry, Agriculture, and fo many more fhould be all called by one common Name\ if there was not fomething in each, which was common to all. It mould feem fo, replied I. What then, faid he, mail we pronounce this to be ? At this, I remember, I was under B 3 forne 6 Concerning ART^ fome fort of Hefitation. Have Courage, cried my Friend, perhaps the Cafe is not fo defperate. Let me afk you — Is Medi cine the Caufe of any thing ? Yes furely, faid I, of Health. And Agriculture, of what ? Of the plentiful Growth of Grain. And Poetry, of what ? Of Plays, and Satires, and Odes, and the like. And is not the fame true, faid he, of Mufic, of Statuary,, of Architecture, and, in fhort, of every Art whatever ? I confefs, faid I, it feems fb. Suppofe then, faid he, we mould fay, It was common to every Art to be a Caufe. Should we err ? I replied, I thought not. Let this then, faid he, be remembered, that all Art isCauCe. I promifed him it fhould. But how then, continued he, if all Art be- Caufe, is it alfo true, that all Caufe is Art ? At this again I could not help hefitating. You have heard, faid he, without doubt, of that Painter famed in Story, who being to paint the Foam of a Horfe, and not fucceeding to his Mind, threw A Dialogues; - y threw his Pencil at the Picture in a Fit of PafGon and Defpair, and produced a Foam the moil natural imaginable. Now, what fay you to thisEaft? Shall we pro* nounce Art to have been the Caufe ? By no means, faid I. What, fa-id he, if in- ftead of Chance, his Hand had been guided by mere Compulsion, himfelf diffenting and averfe to the Violence ? Even here, re plied I, nothing could have been referred to his Art. But what, continued he, if in- ftead of a cafual Throw, or involuntary -Com" pul/ion,heh2d.willingly&n&deli-bemtelyd}re&.- ed his Pencil, and fo produced that Foam, which Story fays he failed in ? Would not Art here have been the Caufe ? I replied, in this cafe, I thought it would. It fhould feem then, faid he, that Art implies not only Caufe, but the additional Requifite of Intention, Reafon, Volition, and Confcioufnefs j fo that not every Caufe is Art> but only voluntary or intentional Caufe. So, faid I, it appears. B 4 And 8 Concerning ART, And fhall we then, added he, pronounce. every intentional Caufe to be Art ? I fee no reafon, faid I, why not. Confider, faid he j Hunger this Morning • prompted you to eat. You were then the Caufe, and that too the intentional Caufe, of con- fuming certain Food : And yet will you refer this Confumptipn to Art ? Did you chew by Art ? Did you fwallow by Art ? No certainly, faid I. So by opening your Eyes, faid he, you are the intentional Caufe of Seeing, and by ftretch- ing your Hand, the intentional Caufe of Feeling} and yet will you affirm, that thefe things proceed from Art f I fhould be wrong, faid I, if I did : For what Art can there be in doing, what every one is able to do by mere Will, and a fort of uninjlructed Injlinffi ? You fay right, replied he, and ^he reafon is manifeft. Were it otherwife, we fhould make all Mankind univerfal Ar- tifts in every fingle Action of their Lives. And what can be a greater Abfurdity than this ? I confeffed that the Abfurdity ap peared l^DlALOGUfi. 0 peared to be evident. But if nothing then, continued he, which we do by Com-* pulfion, or without intending it, be Art ; and not even what we do intentionally, if it pro ceed from mere Will and uninftruSled In- ftindl j what is it we have left remaining, where Art may be found converfant ? Or can it indeed poffibly be in any thing elfe, than in that which we do by Ufe, Practice, Experience, and the like, all which are born with no one, but which are acquired all afterward by Advances unperceived. I can think, faid I, of nothing" elfe. Let therefore the Words Habit and Habitual, faid he, reprefent this Requifite, and let us fay, that Art is not only a Caufe, but an intentional Caufe; and not only an inten tional Caufe, but an intentional Caufe found ed in Habit, or, in other Words, an habi tual Caufe. You appear, faid I, to argue rightly. But if Art, faid he, be what we have now afferted, fomething learnt and acquired; if it be alfo a thing intentional or 10 Ksomermng ii K. I, or voluntary f and not governed either by, Chance or blind Neceffity-—— If this, I fay, be the Cafe, then mark the Confequences. And what, faid I, are they ? The ,firft, faid he, is, that no Events, in what we call the natural World, muft be referred to Art; fiich as Tides, Winds, Vegetation, Gravitation, Attraction, and the like. For thefe all happen by ftated Laws ; by a curi ous Necejfity, which is not to be withftood, and where the nearer and immediate Caufes appear to be utterly tinconfcious. 1 con- fefs, faid I, it feems fb. In the next place, continued he, we muft exclude all ihofe admired. Works of tb.e Animal World, which, for their Beauty and Order, we me taphorically call artificial. The Spider's Web, the Bee's Comb, the Beaver's Houfe, and the Bird's Neft, muft all be referred to another Source. — For who can fay, thefe ever learnt to be thus ingenious ? or, that they were ignorant by Nature, and knowing only by Efducation? None furely, re plied I. But we have ftill, faid he, a iiigher.Cpnfideratiqn. And what, faid I, A Dialogue. h t is that? It is, anfwered he, this Not even that Divine Power, which gave Form to all things, then. acted 'by Art, when it gave that Form. For how, continued he, can that Intelligence, which has all Perfection ever in Energy, be fiippofed to have any Power, not original to its Nature? How can it ever have any thing to learn, when it knows all from the Beginning ; or, being perfect and complete, admit of what is- additional and fecondary f I fhould think, faid I, it were impoflible. If fo, laid he, then Art can never be numbered among its Attributes : For all Art is fome thing learnt, fomething fecondary and ac quired, and never original to any Being, which poffeffes it. So the Fact, faid I, has been eftablifhed. If this therefore, continued he, be true ; if Art belong not either to the Divine Nature, the Brute Nature, or the Inanimate Nature, to what Nature fhall we fay it t does belong ? I know not, faid I, unlefs j ^»- it be to the Human% You are right, faid 'he | 12 Concerning ART, he ; for every Nature elfe you perceive U either too excellent to want it, or too bafe to be capable of it. Befide, except the Human, what other Nature is there left ? Or where elfe can we find any of the Arts already inftanced, or indeed whatever others we may now fancy to enumerate? Who are Statuaries, but Men? Who Pilots, who •Muficians? This feems, replied I, t6 be the Fact. Let us then, continued he, fay, not Only that Art is a Caufe, but that it is Man becoming a Caufe ; and not only Man, but Man intending to do what is going fo which will ferve fufficiently to make it clear. I begged he would mention fome. Thvs then, faid he — When the Pro duction of any Art is an Energy, then the , '' P.-evfeBion "of tfye -Art can be only perceived 4w*%S that Energy. For inftance, the Per- fectjon of a Mufician is onhf known, while he continues playing. But when the Pro duction *2 Dialogue. i$ (Auction of any Art is a Work, then is not the j Perfection viflble during the Energy ± but only $ 'after it. Thus the Perfection of the Sta tuary is not feen during his Energies as a Statuary, but when his Energies are over j when no Stroke of the Chizzel is wanting, but the Statue is left, as the Refult of all. *Tis true, faid I. Again, continued he*— — in confe- quence of this* where the Production is an Energy^ theje the Production is of Neceffity co-eva-l with the Artifli For how fhould the Energy furvive the Man ; the Playing] remain, when the Mufician is dead? But where the Production is a Work; then is there no fitch Ne-cejity. The Work may well remain* when the Artift i§ forgotten ; there being no more reafon, that the Statue and the Artift fhould be cc^eval, than the Man and the rude Marble* before it received a regular Figure. You feem now, faid I, to have explained ypurfelf, n 36 Concerning A R T, \ If then, faid he, Work and Energy" be made intelligible Terms, you cannot but perceive the Truth of what we before af- 'ferted that every Art, according to it's Genius, mufl needs be aecomplifhed in one of thefe ; that, except in thefe two, it can ie ae complifhed in nothing elfe ; and confequenfly that one of these must of necessity 1 be its End. I anfwered, That the Reafoning appeared juftly deduced. So much then, replied he, for the Ending or Accomplifhment of Art ; and fo much alfo for a long, and, I fear, an intricate Difqui- fition. §. 5. He had no fooner faid this, than I was beginning to applaud him ; efpeclally on his having treated a Subject fo copioufly, ftarted, as it were, by Chance, and without any apparent Preparation. But I had not gone far, before he interrupted me, by fay ing, That as to my Praifes they were more than he deferved ; that he could pretend to no great Merit for having been, as I called K ^Dialogue. 37 it, fo copious, when he had fo often before thought, on what at prefent we had been talking. In fhort, fays he, to tell you a Secret, I have been a long time amufing myfelf, in forming an Effay upon this Sub ject. I could not here forbear reproach ing him, for having hitherto concealed his Intentions. My Reproaches produced a fort of amicable Controverfy, which at length ended in his offering, That, to* make me fome amends, he would now recite me (if I pleafed) a finall Fragment of the Piece ; a Fragment, which he had happened acci dentally to have about him, The Propofal, on my part, was willingly accepted, and without farther Delay, the Papers were produced, As to the Performance itfelf, it muft be Cpnfefled, in point of Stile, it was fomewhat high and florid, perhaps even bprdering upon an Excefs. At the time however of recital, this gave me lefs Offence, becaufe it feemed, as it were, to palliate the Drynefs pf what had pafTed before, and in fome fort D 3 to 3$ Concerning ART, to fupply the Place of an Epilogue to our Conference. Not however to anticipate^ he began reading as follows. [\ " O Art! Thou Praife of Man, and " Ornament of Human Life ! Poffeffed of " Thee, the meaneft Genius grows deferv- " ing, and has a juft Demand for a Portion " of our Efteem. Devoid of Thee, the ft Brighteft pf our Kind fie loft and ufelefs, " and are but poorly diftinguifhed from " the mpft Delpicable and Bafe. When ^ we inhabited Forefts in common with >"' Brutps, nor o'therwife known from them " than by the Figure of our Species ; Thou * ' taughtpft us tp affert the Sovereignty of our " Nature^ and tp alTume that Empire, for ." which Providence intended us. Thou- u fands pf tFtilities owe their Birth to Thee; fc thoufands of Elegancies, Pleafiires, and " Joys? without which Life itfelf would be V but an infipid Poffefiion. * Wide and extenfive is the Reach- [f pf thy Dominion. No Element is ?' there /^Dialogue. 39 ** there either fo violent or fo fubtle, fo yield- " ing or fofluggifh, as by the Powers of its ft Nature to be fuperior to thy Direction. " Thou dreadeft not the fierce Impetuofity fl of Fire, but cpmpelleft its Violence to ,{ be both obedient and ufeful. By it Thou " fbfteneft the ftubborn Tribe of Minerals, " fo as to be formed and moulded into " Shapes innumerable. Hence Weapons, " Armour, Coin ; and previous to thefe, " and other Thy Works and Energies, " hence all thofe various Tools and Inftru- " ments, which empower Thee to proceed " to farther Ends more excellent, Nor is "the fubtle Air lefs obedient to Thy *' Power, whether Thou willeft it to-be a " Minifter to our Pleafure, pr Utility. At " Thy Command it giveth Birth to Sounds, " which charm the Soul with all the Powers " of Harmony. Under thy Inftruction it " moves the Ship o'er Seas, while that " yielding Element, where otherwife we "fink, even Water itfelf is by Thee " taught to bear us ; the vaft Ocean to pro- *' mote that Intercourfe of Nations, which D 4 Igno^ 40 Concerning ART, «' Ignorance would imagine it was deftined " to intercept. To fay how thy Influence is " feen on Earth, would be to teach h the meaneft, what he knows already, " Suffice it but to mention Fields of Arable *e and Pafture ; Lawns and Groves, and " Gardens, and Plantations ; Cottages, Vik f lages, Caftles, Towns; Palaces, Temples, /' and fpacious Cities, "Nor does thy Empire end in Subjects ft thus in-animate. Its Power alfo extends " thro' the various Race of Animals, (a) The Reafon is, that thefe things are almoft wholly known to us by their Colour and Figure. Be-> fides, they are as motionlefs, for the moft part, ii> Nature, as in the Imitation* 62 ^Discourse on MUSIC, Ch. II. Species, when accompanied with Conflgura-* tions, which are obvious and remarkable (b)— The Human Body in all its Appearances (as Male, Female; Young, Old; Handfome, Ugly';) and in all its Attitudes, (as Lying, Sitting, Standing, &c.) The Natural Sounds peculiar to the Human Species, (fuch as Crying, Laughing, Hollowing, &c .) (c)— AU Energies, Paffions, and Affections of the Soul, (b) Instances bf this kind are the Flying of Birds, the Galloping of Horfes, theRoaring of Lions, the Crowing of Cocks. -And the Reafon is, that though to paint Motion or Sound be impoj/ible, yetthtz Motions and Sounds here- mentioned having an im mediate and natural Connection with a certain vifble Configuration of the Parts, the Mind, from a Profpect of this Configuration, conceives infenfibly that which is concomitant ; and hence 'tis that, by a fort of Fallacy, the Sounds and Motions appear to be painted alfo. On the contrary, not fo in fuch Mo tions, as the Swimming of many kinds of Fifti ; or vpfuch Sounds, as the Purring of a Cg£ ; becaufe here |S no fuch fpecial Configuration to be perceived. (c) The Reafon is of the fame, kind, as that given in the Note immediately preceding ; and by the fame Rule, the Obfervation muft be confined to natural Sounds only. In Language, few of the Speakers know the Configurations, which attend it. PAINTING and POETRY. 63 Soul, being in any degree more intenfe or Ch. II. violent than ordinary (d) All ABions and Events, whofe Integrity or Wholenefs depends upon a Jhort and ftlfevi dent Suc- ceffion of Incidents {e) Or if the Suc- ceffion be extended, then fuch ABions at leaft, whofe Incidents are all along, during that Succejfion, flmilar (f) All ABions, which being qualified as above, open them felves (d) The Reafon is ftill of the fame kind, viz. from their Viftble Effects on the Body. They natu rally produce either to the Countenance a particular Rednefs or Palenefs ; or a particular Modification of its Mufcles ; or elfe to the Limbs, a particular Attitude. Now all thefe Effects are folely referable to Colour and Figure, the two grand fenfible Media, peculiar to Painting. See Raphael's Cartoons of St. Paul at Athens, and of his ftriking the Sorcerer Elymas blind : See alfo the Crucifixion of Polycrates, and the Suf ferings ofthe Conful Regulus, both by Salvator Rofa. (e) For of necejfity every Pic t u r e is a Punclum "temporis er Instant. (f) Such, for inftance, as a Storm at Sea ; whofe . Incidents ofVifion may be nearly all include&in foam ing Waves, a dark Sky, Ships out of their erect Pofture, and Men hanging upon the Ropes. — 1 — x- Or 64 A Discourse on MUSIC, Ch. II. felves into a large Variety of Circumftances, concurring all in the fame Point of Time (g) All ABions which are known, and known univerfally, rather than Actions newly invented, or known but to few (b). And Or as a Battle ; which from Beginning to End pre- fents nothing elfe, than Blood, Fire, Smoak, and Diforder. Now fuch Events may be well imitated all at once ; for how long foever they laft, they are but Repetitions of the fame. (g) For Painting is notboundedin Exten sion, as it is in Duration. Befides, it feems true in every Species of Compofition, that, as far as Perplexity and Confufion may be avoided, and the Wholenefs ofthe Piece may be preferved clear and 'in telligible ; the more ample the Magnitude, and the greater the Variety, the greater alfo, in proportion, the Beauty and PerfeBion. Noble Inftances of this are the Pictures above-mentioned in Note (d). See Ariftot. Poet. cap. 7. 'o «p fMft.u(r§oii,.(T&irfpUTm to^p tSto j£«iW< ts&j ilxSvxs ojcovref, 3V* ffU/AJjsswH 3-ewf?iiT«f (/.ecvSiivEiv k) 58- 75> 7°- mild, humane, and yet a brave Difpofition. But then this Idea would be vague and general. It would be concluded, only in the grofs, that the Hero was Gtod. As to that Syftem of Qualities peculiar to jEneas only, and which alone properly eonjlitutes his true and real Characler, this would ftill remain a Secret, and be no way difcoverable. For how de duce it from the mere Lineaments of a Countenance \ Or, if it were deducible, how few Spectators would therebe found fo fagacious ? 'Tis here therefore, that Recourfe muft be had, not to Painting, but to Poetry. So accurate a Conception of Character can be gathered only from a Succeffion of various, and yet confijlent Aclions ; a Succeffion, enabling us to conjec ture, what the Perfon of the Drama will do in the future, from what already he has done in the pafij, Now to fuch an Imitation, Poetry only is equal} becaufe it is not bounded, like Painting, to Jhort, and, as it were, infant Events, but may imitate Subjects of any Duration whatever. See Arijl. Poet. cap. 6. "Er» S\ *|9oj fulv to toistw, o Siihot Ttfi Vfoxioevtv Ittom T»f ls*)», h o'v; vx 'iri $fAov, et irpoxigeTrxi n Qivyei o xiyoav. See alfo the ingenious and learned Bojfu, Book 4. ch. 4. 92 ^Discourse on MUSIC, Ch. V. perior to Poetry; while the Subjects, here defcribed, far exceed- the Power of Paint ing in as much as they are of all Sub jects the moft -j- affeBing, and improving, and fuch of which we have the firongeft Comprehenfion further, in as much as ' Poetry can moft % accurately imitate them — in as much as, befides all Imitation, there is a Charm in Poetry, arifing from its very , Numbers (e) ; whereas Painting has Pre tence f P. 85, 6Tf. % P. 89, lit. (e) That there is a Charm va. Poetry, arifing from its Numbers only, may be made evident from the five or fix firft Lines ofthe Paradife Loft; where, without any Pomp of Phrafe, Sublimity of Senti ment, or the leaf Degree of Imitation, every Reader muft find himfelf to be fenfibly delighted ; and that, only from the graceful and fimple Cadence of the Numbers, and that artful Variation of the Cafura or Paufe, fo effential to the Harmony of every good Poem. A n Englijh Heroic Verfe confifts of ten Semipeds, or Half-feet. Now in the Lines above-mentioned the PAINTING and POETRY. 93 tence to no Charm, except that of Imita- Ch, V. tion only laftly, (which will foon be' * fhewn) in as much as Poetry is able to affociate Muflc, as a moft powerful Ally ; of which Affiftance, Painting is utterly in capable— — From all this it may be fairly concluded, that Poetry is not only Equal, but that it is in faB far Su*- perior to its Sister Art of Paint ing. §.4. But if it exceed Painting mSub* jeBs, to which Painting is not adapted; no doubt will it exceed Music in SubjeBs to Mufic * Chap. VI. the Paufes are varied upon different Semipeds in the Order, which follows ; as may be feen by any, who Will be at the Pains to examine Paradise Lost* Ik L r Semiped 7 l 6 [has its Paufe 1 ^- 6 fall upon 1 5 I 3 L 4 94 -A Discourse on MUSIC, Ch. V. Mufic not adapted. For here it has been * preferred, even in thofe Subjects, which have been held adapted the befl of all. §. 5. Poetry is therefore, on the whole, much superior to either of the other Mimetic Arts* it having been fhewn to be equally excellent in the •f* Accuracy of its Imitation ; and t» imitate Subjects, which far surpass, as well in J Utility, as in )| Dig nity. * Ch.IV. §. 3. f P- 89. t P- 86. II See p. 83, 84. and p. 64, Note (g). See a 1ft p. 59. CHAP. PAINTING and POETRY. 95 CHAP. VI. On Mufic confldered not as an Imitation, but as deriving its Efficacy from another Source. On its joint Operation, Ity this means, with Poetry. An ObjeBion to Mufic fotoed. The Advantage arifing to it, as well as to Poetry, from their being united. Conclufion. IN the above Difcourfe, Music hasCh.VI. been mentioned as an *AUy to Poetry. ' It has alfo been faid to derive its -j- Efficacy from another Source, than Imitation. It remains therefore, that thefe things be ex plained. Now, in order to this, it is firft to be obferved, tbat there are various AffeBions, which may be raifed by the Power of Muflc. * P- 93- t P. 69. 96 ^Discourse on MUSIC* Ch.VI. Muflc. There are Sounds to make us chearful, or fad; martial, or tender; and fo of almoft every other Affection, which we feeh It is alfo further obfefvable, that there Is a reciprocal Operation between our Af- feBions, and our Ideas ; fo that, by a fort of natural Sympathy, certain Ideas necefTa- rity tend to raife iri us Ceftaifi AffeBibns ; and thofe AffeBions, by a fort of Counter- Operation, to raife the fame Ideas. Thus Ideas derived from Funerals, Tortures, Murders, and the like, naturally generate the Affection of Melancholy. And when, by any Phyflcal Caufes, that AffeBion hap pens to prevail* it as naturally generates the fame doleful Ideas u And hence it is that Ideas, derived L from extefndl Caufes, have at different times, upon the fame Perfon, fo different an Effect. If they happen to fuit the Affections, which prevail within, then is their Impreffion mofl fenfible, and their Effect mofl PAINTING and POETRY. 97 moft lofting. If the contrary be true, then Ch. VI. is the Effect contrary. Thus, for inftance, a Funeral will much more affect the fame Man, if he fee it when melancholy, than if he fee it when chearful. Now this being premifed, it will fol low, that whatever happens to be the AffeBion or Difpofition of Mind, which ought naturally to refult from the Genius of any Poem, the fame probably it will be in the Power of fome Species of Muflc to excite. But whenever the proper AffeBion prevails, it has been allowed that then all kindred Ideas, derived from external Caufes, make the mofl fenfible Impreffion. The Ideas therefore of Poetry muft needs make the moft fenfible Impreffion, when the (a) Affections, peculiar to them, are al ready (a) Qiiintilian elegantly, and exactly appofite to this Reafoning, fays of Mufic »Namgue& voce & modulation* grandia elate, jucunda dulciter, mtdtrata H 98 A Discourse on MUSIC, Ch. VI. ready excited by the Mufic. For here a double Force is made co-operate to one End. A Poet, thus ajifted, finds not an Audience in a Temper, averfe to the Genius of his Poem, or perhaps at beft under a cool In difference; but by the Preludes, the Sym phonies, and concurrent Operation of the Mufk in all its Parts, rouzed into thofe 'very AffeBions, which he would mofl defire. r An Audience, fo difppfed, not only em brace with Pleafure the Ideas pf the Poet^ when exhibited ; but, in a manner, even anticipate them in their feveral Imagina tions. The Superstitious have not a more previous Tendency to be frightned at thp fight of Spectres, or a Lover to fall into Raptures at the fight of his Miftrefs; than a' Mind, thus tempered by the Power of Mufic, moderata leniter canit, totda; arte confentit cum eorum, quae dicuntur, Affectibus. Inf. Orator, \. 1. cap. 10. PAINTING and POETRY, 99 Mufic^ to enjoy all Ideas, which are fuitable Ch. VI. to that Temper. An"d hence the genuine Charm of Mufic* and the Wonders, which it works, thro' its great Profeffors (b). A Power, which confifts not in Imitations, and the railing Ideas ; but in the railing AffeBhns, to which Ideas may correfpond. There are few to be found fo infenfible, I may even fay fo inhumane, as when good Poetry is justly set to Music, not in fome degree to feel the Force, of fo amiable an Union. But to the Mufes Friends it is a Force irreflflible, and pene- H 2 trates x(b) Such, above all, is George Frederick Handel y " whofe Genius, having been cultivated by continued Exercife, and being itfelf far the fublimeft and moft univerfal now known, has juftly placed him with out an Equal, or a Second. This tranfient Tefti- mony could not be denied fo excellent an Artift, from whom this Treajife has borrowed fuch emi nent Examples, to juftify its Afiertions in what it has offer'd concerning Mufic. too 'A Discourse on MUSIC, Ch.VI.trates into the deepeft Receffes of thd Soul. *•¦" * PeBus inaniter angif, Irritat, muldet,falfls terroribus impki. §.2. Now this is that Source, frprrf whence Mufic was -f faid formerly to de rive its greateft Efficacy. And here indeed,' not in (c) Imitation, ought it to be chiefly cultivated. On this account alfo' k has been called a % powerful. Ally to Poetry. And farther, 'tis1 by the help of this Rea* foriing, that the ObjeBion is folved, which is raifed againft the Singing of Poetry (as jin Opera's, Oratorio's, &c .) from the want of * Horat. Epiji. i. 1. 2. v. 211. t P. 69, % P. 93. (c) For the narrow Extent and Ihtle Effieaey ef Music, coufidered as a Mimetic or Imitative Art, fee Ch. II. §. 3. PAINTING and POETRY. 101 of Probability and Refemhlance to Nature. Ch.VI. To one indeed, who has no mufical Ear, this Objection may have Weight. ' It may even perplex a Lover of Mufic, if it hap pen to furprize him in his Hours of /«- difference. But when he is feeling the Charm of Poetry fo accompanied, let him be angry (if he can) with that, which ferves only to intereft him more feelingly in the Subject, and fupport him in a ftronger and more earnefl Attention ; which enforces, , by its Aid, the feveral Ideas of the Poem, and gives them to his Imagi-* nation with unufual Strength and Gran deur. He cannot furely but confefs, that he is a Gainer in the Exchange, when he barters the want of a fingle Proba bility, that of Pronunciation (a thing merely arbitrary and every where different) fpr a nqble Heightening of AffeBions which are fuitable to the Occafion, and enable him to enter into the Subject with double Energy and Enjoyment \ H ¦3« io2 A Discourse on Mysiv,, Ch.VI. §. 3.V From what has been faid it is ' evident, that thefe two Arts can never be fo powerful flngly, as when they are pro^ perly united. For Poetry, when alone, muft be neceflarily forced to wafte rnany of its richeft Ideas, in the mere railing of Affections, when, tp have been properly relifhed, it.fhpuld have found thofe Afc Actions in their higheft Energy, And Muflc, when alone, can only raife Affec* fions, ' which fpon languifh arid decay, if not maintained and fed by the nutritive Images of Poetry. Yet muft it be re- I' membered, in this Union, that Poetry ever \ have the Precedence ; its * Utility, as well as Dignity^ being by far the more con siderable, §.4. And thus muph, for the prefent, as to >f Music, Painting, and Poetry ; the * Ch, V. §, 2. p. 83. PAINTING and POETRY. 103 the Circumftances, in which they agree, Ch.VI. and in which they differ; and the Pre ference, DUE TO ONE OF THEM ABOVE THE OTHER TWO, The, END. H4 TREATISE the Third: CONCERNING HAPPINESS, A DIALOG U E. CONCERNING HAPPINESS, DIALOGUE. PA R T the First. J. H. to F. S. . NATURE feems to treat Man, Parti, as a Painter would his Difciple, ' to whom he commits the Out- Lines of a Figure lightly fketched, which the Scholar for himfelf is to colour and complete, Thus from Nature we derive Senfes, and Paffions, and an Intellect, which each of us for himfelf has to model into, a Character, And hence (the reverfe of 108 Concerning n a r r i in n a a, Part I. of every Species befide) Human Characters alone are infinitely various ; as various in deed, as there aire Individuals to forrn them. Hence too, the great Diverfity of Syftems, and of Doctrines, reflecting the Laws, and Rules, and Conduct pf Human Life. 'Tis in the Hiftory of thefe, my Friend, you have fo fuccefsfully employed yourfelf. You have been ftudipus to know, not fo much what Greeks, Romans, or Barbarians have done ; as what they have reafoned, and what they have taught. Not an Epicure has more Joy in the Memory pf a deli* cious Banquet, than I feel in recollecting, what we have difcourfed on thefe Sub jects, And here you cannot forget (for we were both unanimous) the Contempt, in which we held thofe fuperficial Cenfurers, who profefs to refute, what they want even Capacities to comprehend. Upon the Faith of their own Boafting (could that be credited) A DlALPGUE* credited) Sentiments are expofed* Opinions Part L demolifhed, and the whole Wifdom ofv Antiquity lies vanquifhed at their Feet. Like Opera Heroes, upon their own Stage, they can with eafe difpatch a Lion, or dif- comfit a whole Legion. But alafs ! were they to encounter, not the Shadow, but the Subftance, what think you would be the Event then ?-« Little better, I fear, than was the Fortune of poor Priam, when the feeble Old Man durft attack the Youthful Pyrrhus. *Telum imbelle flne iBu Conjecit : rauco quodprotenus cere repulfum, Etfummo Clypei nequicquam umbone pependif* Among the many long exploded and obfolete Syftems, there was one, you may remember, for which I profeffed a great £fteem. Not in the leaft degree con vinced by all I had heard againft it, I durft * Mneid, 1. 2. v. 544, no Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. durft venture to affirm, that no Syfteri* was more plaufible; that grant but its Principles, and the reft followed of courfe j that none approached nearer to the Per- feBion of our own Religion, as I could prove, were there* occafibn, by Authority not fo be controverted\ As youy I knew, were the Favourer of an Hypothefis fome- what -j- different ; fo I attempted to fup- port my own, by reciting you a certain Dialogue. Not fucceeding however fo happily in the Recollection, as I could wifh, I have fince endeavoured to tran- fcfibe, what at that time I would have re- hearfed. The Refult of my Labour is the following Narrative, which I commit with Confidence to ypur Friendfhip and Can dour. §. 2. 'Twas at a time, when a certain Friend, whom I highly value, was my Gueft. We had been fitting together, enter- + Viz. the Platonic, A Dialogue. lit entertaining ourfelves with Shakefpear. Part I. Among many of his. Characters, we had looked into that of Woolfey.. How foon, fays my Friend, does the Cardinal in Dif- grace abjure that Happinefs, which he was lately fo fond oil Scarcely out of Office, , but he begins to exclaim *VainPomp and Glory, ofthe Worldl Ihateye* So true is it, that our Sentiments ever vary with the Seafon ; and that in Adverfity we are of one Mind, in Profperity, of another. As for his mean Opinion, faid I, of Human Happinefs, 'tis a Truth, which fmall Reflection might have taught him long before. There feems Uttle need of Diftrefs. to inform us of this. I rather commend the feeming Wifdom of that Eaftern Mo narch, who in the Affluence of Prosperity, when he was proving- every Pleafure, was yet fo fenfible of their Emptinefs, their In- fufficiency to make him happy, that he pro- * Shakespeare Henry the Eighth, m Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. proclaimed a Reward tP the Man* who fhould invent a new Delight; The Re ward indeed was proclaimed, but the De light was not to be foundi If by Delight* faid he, you mean fome Goodi fomething conducive to real Happinefs; it might have been found perhaps, and yet not hit the Monarch's Fancy. Is that, faid I, poffible ? 'Tis poffible, replied he, tho' it had been the Sovereign Good itfelfi And indeed what wonder ? Is it probable that fuch a Mortal, as an Eaftern Monarch ; fuch a pamper'd, flat tered, idle Mortal ; fhould have Attention, or Capacity to a Subject fo delicate? A Subject, enough to exercife the Subtleft and moft Acute ? What then is it ypu efteem, faid I, the |»£ Sovereign Good to be ? It fhould feem, by your Reprefentation, to be fomething very uncommon. Afk me not the Queftion, faid he, you know not where 'twill carry us. Its general Idea indeed is eafy and plain; but the Detail of Particulars is perplex'd A Dialogue* Iij perplCx'd and long— — Paffions* and Opi- Part I. nions for ever thwart us <- a Paradox appears in almoft evety Advance. Befides, did our Inquiries fucceed ever fo happily* the very SubjeB itfelf is always enough to give me Pain* That* replied I* feems a Paradox indeed. ( 'Tis not, faid he* from any Prejudice, which I have con ceived againft it ; for to Man I efteem it the nobleft in the World* Nor is it for being a Subject, to which my Genius does not lead me ; for no Subject at all times has more employ'd my .Attention. But the Truth is, I can fcarce ever think on it* but an unlucky Story ftill occurs to my Mind. u A certain Star-gazer, with his " Telefcope, was once viewing the Moon ; " and defcribing her Seas, her Mountains* " and her Territories. Says a Clown to " his Companion, Let him. fpy what he. " pleafes ; we are as near to the Moon, as " he and all his Brethren" So fares it alafs ! with thefe, our moral Speculations.. Practice too often creeps , where Theory can foar. The Pbilofopher proves as wgaki I as 1 14 Concerning HAPPUNHibS, Part I. as thofe, whom he moft contemns. A'morti- ' fying Thought to fuch as well attend it. Too mortifying, replied I, to be long dwelt on. Give us rather your ge neral Idea of the Sovereign Good. This is eafy from your own Account, however in tricate the Detail. Thus then, faid he, fince you are fo urgent, 'tis thus that I conceive it. The Sovereign Good is that, the Pos session OF WHICH RENDERS US HAPPY. And how, faid I, do we poffefs it ? Is it Senfual, or IntelleBual? There you are entering, faid he, upon the Detail. This is beyond your Queftion. Not a fmall Advance, faid I, to indulge poor Curiofity ? Will you raife me a Thirft, and be fo cruel not to allay it ? 'Tis not, replied he, of my raiflng, but your own, Befides I am not certain, fhould I attempt to proceed-, whether you will admit fuch Authorities, as 'tis poffible I may vouch. That, faid I, muft be determined by their Weight, and Character, Sup- pofe, A Dialogue.' 115 pofe, faid he* it fhould be Mankind; Parti. the whole Human Raca Would you not' think it fomething ftrange, to feek of thofe concerning Good, who purfue it a thou* fand Ways, and many of them contra- diBory f I confefs* faid I, it feems fo.' And yet, continued he, were there a Pointj in which fuch Diffentienti ever agreed, this Agreement would be no mean Argument in favour of its Truth and Juft- nefs. But where, replied I, is this Agreement to be found ? He anfwered me by afking* What if. it fhould appear* that there were certain Original Characteristics and Pre conceptions of Good, which were Na tural, Uniform and Common to ale Men ; which all recognised in their vdriom Purfuits ; and that the Difference lay only> in the applying them to Particu lars? This requires, faid I, to be illuftrated. As if, Continued he, a Company, of Travellers, in fome wide Foreft, were all intending for one City,' I 2 but 1 1 6 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. but each by a Rout peculiar to himfelf. ' The Roads indeed would be various, and many perhaps/^ ; but all who travelled, would have one End in view. 'Tis evident, faid I, they would. • So fares it then, added he, with Mankind in pur- fuit of Good. The Ways indeed are Many, but what they feek is One. For inftance : Did you ever hear of any", who in purfuit of their Good, were for living the Life of a Bird, an Infect, or a Fifh ? None. And why not ? It would be inconfiftent, anfwered I, with their Nature. You fee then, laid he, they all agree in this that what they purfue, ought to be confiflent, and agreeable to their proper Nature. So ought it, faid I, undoubtedly. If fo, continued he, one Pre-conception is dis covered, which is common to Good in gene ral— — It is, that all Good is fuppofed fome thing agreeable to Nature. This in deed, replied I, feems to be, agreed on all hands. But A Dialogue. 117 But again, faid he, Is tfiere a Man Part I. fcarcely to be found of a Temper fo truly' mortified, as to acquiefce in theloweft, and fhortefl Neceffaries of Life ? Who aims not, if he be able, at fomething farther, fome thing better ? I replied, Scarcely one. Do not Multitudes purfue, faid he, infinite Objects of Defire, acknowledged, every one of them, to be in no refpect Neceffaries ? Exquifite Viands, deli cious Wines, fplendid Apparel, curious Gar dens* magnificent Apartments adorned with Pictures and Sculpture * Mufic and Poetry, and the whole Tribe of Elegant Arts ? 'Tis evident, faid I. If it be, continued he, it fhould feem that they all confldered the Chief or Sovereign Good, not to be that,' which conduces to bare Exiftence or mere Being ; for to this the Neceffaries alone are adequate. I replied they were. But if not this, it muft be fomewhat conducive to that, which is fuperior to mere Jteing. - It muft. , ,, And what, con tinued he, can this be, but Well-Being? I 3 Well- liS; Concerning HAPPINESS, Parti. WellrBeing, under the various Shapes, iri which differing Opinions paint it ? Or can you fu^ggeft any thing elfe ? I replied^ I could not. Mark here, then, con-? tinned he, another Preconception, in which they all agree - — -— the Sovereign Good is, fomewhat conducive, not to mere Being, but, to WellrBeing, I replied, Jt had fo ap= Again, continued he. What Labour, what Expence, to procure thofe Rarities, which our own poor Country is unable to afford us ? How is the World ranfacked to its utmoft Verges, and Luxury and Arts imported from every Quarter ?-—--- Nay more -—--— How do we baffle Nature het- felf; invert her Order ; feek the Vegetables of Spring in the Rigours of Winter, and Winter's Ice, during the Heats of Sum mer ? I replied, We did. And what Difapppintment, what Remorfe, when Endeavours fail ? 'Tis true. If this then be evident, £id he, it fhould feem, |hat whatever we defire as our Chief and Save- './f Dialogue. figi Sovereign Good, is fomething which, as far Part I. as poffible, we would accommodate to all Places and Times. I anfwered, So it appeared. See then, faid he, another of its Cha- raBeriftics, another Pre-conception. But farther ftill What Contefts for Wealth f What Scrambling for Property ? What Perils in the Purfuit ; what Sollicitude in the Maintenance ?- — And why all this ? To what Purpofe, what End? — —Or is not the Reafon plain ? Is it not that Wealth may continually procure us, whatever we fancy Good; and make that perpetual, which would othefwife be tranflent ? I replied, It feemed fo. Is it not far ther defired, as fupplying us from ourfelves $ when, without it, we muft be beholden to the Benevolence of others, and depend on their Caprice for all that we enjoy ? _7Tis true, faid I, this feems a Reafon. A g a i n~— Is not Power of every degree as much contefted for, as Wealth ? Are not Magiftracies, Honours, Principalities, and I 4 Empire, 1 20 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. Empire, the Subjects of Strife, and ever-, Jafting Contention? I replied, They were. And why, faid he, this ? To obtain what End ? Is it not to help us, like Wealth, to the Poffejion of what we defire? Is it not farther to afcertain, to , fecure our Enjoyments ; that when others Would deprive us, we may heflrong enough to refifl them? I replied, It was. Or to invert the whole ——Why are there, . who feek Receffes the moft diftant and retired? fly Courts and Power, and fubmit to Parcimony and Obfcurity ? Why all this, but from the fame Intention ? From an Opinion that fmall Pofieffions,. ufed mpderately, are permanent —i—^ that largfr Ppffeffions raife Envy, and are more frequently invaded — that the Safety of Power and Dignity is more precarious, than that §f Retreat * and that therefore they have chofen, what is mofl eligible upon the whole ? It is not, faid I, improbable, |fet they aft by fome fuch Motive, m ^Dialogue. 121 Do you not fee then, continued he, two Part I pr three more P re-conceptions of the Sove reign Good, which are fought for by all, as _Efferttial to conftitute it ? And what, faid I, are thefe? That it fhould not be tranflent, . nor derived from the Will of others, nor in their Power to take away ; but be durable, felf-derived, and (if I may ufe the Expreffion) indeprivable. I confefs, faid I, it appears fo. But we have already found it to be con fldered, as fomething agreeable to our Nature; conducive, not to mere Being, but to Well- Being ; and what we aim to have accommo date to all Places and Times, We have, There may be other Characteriftics, faid he, but thefe I think fufficient. See then its Idea j behold it, as collected from the Original, Natural, and Univerfal Pre*- conceptions of all Mankind, The Sove^ reign Good, they have taught us, ought to be fomething Agreeable to our Nature ; Conducive to Well-Being • Accom- 122 Concerning HAPPINESS, Parti. Accommodate to all Places and Times; Durable, Self-derived, and Indeprivable. Your Account, faid I, appears juft. It matters, continued he, little, how they err in the Application if they covet that as agreeable to Nature, which is in it felf moft Contrary — —if they would have that as Durable, which is in itfelf moft Tranflent — . — that as Independent, and their own, which is moft precarious and Servile. 'Tis enough for us, if we know their Aim enough, if we can difcover, what 'tis they propofe — -the Means and Method may be abfurd, as it happens. I an- fwered, Their Aim was fufficient to prove what he had afferted, 'Tis true, replied he, 'tis abundantly fufficient, And yet perhaps, even tho' this were ever fo certain, it would not be al together foreign, were we to examine, how they aft; how they fucceed in ap plying thefe Univerfals to Particular Sub* jeBsx A Dialogue. 123 feBs, Should they be found jufl in the PartL Application, we need look no farther -. — The true Sovereign Good would of courfe be Plain and Obvious ; and we fhould have no more to do, than to follow the beaten Road. >Tis granted, replied I, But what if they err? Time enough for that,' faid he,, when we are fatisfied that they do. We ought firft to inform our felves, whether they may not poffibly be in the Right. I fubmitted, and begged him to proceed hi§ own Way. §. 3. Will you then, faid he, in this Difquifition into Human Conduct, allow me this ~ — That fuch, as is the Species of Life, which every one choofes; fiich is his Idea pf Happinefs, fuch his Conception ofthe Sovereign Good? I feem* faid I, to comprehend You, but fhould be glad You would illuftrate. His Meaning, he anfwered, was no more than this If a Man prefer a Life of Induflry, 'tis be caufe he has an Idea of Happinefs in Wealth; jf ne prefers a Life pf Gaiety, 'tis from a like 124 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. like Idea concerning Pleafure. And -the fame, we fay, holds true in every other Inftance. I told him, It muft cer tainly. And can you recolleft, faid he, any Life, but what is a Life of Buflnefs, or of Leifure ? I anfwered, None. And is not the great End of Buflnefs either Power, or Wealth? It is. Muft not every Life therefore of Buflnefs, be either Political or Lucrative ? It muft. Again Are not IntelleB and Senfe, the Soul's leading Powers ? They are. And in Leifure are we not ever feeking, to gratify one, or the other ? „ We are. Muft not every Life there fore of Leifure be either Pleafurable, or Contemplative ? ' , If you confine Pleafure, faid I, to Senfe, I think it neceffarily muft. If it be not fo confined, faid he, we confound all Inquiry. Allow it. Mark then, faid he, the two grand Genera, the Lives of Business and of ; . Leisure J Dialogue. 125 Leisure-' mark alfo the fiibordinate Part I. Species; the Political and Lucra tive, the Contemplative and Pleasurable 'Can you think of any other, which thefe will not include ? t replied, I knew of none. 'Tis pof fible indeed, faid he, that there may be other Lives framed, by the blending of thefe, two or more of them, together. But if we feparate with Accuracy, we fhall find that here they all terminate. I replied, fo it feemed probable. If then, continued he, we would be exaft in our Inquiry, we muft examine thefe four Lives, and mark their Confe- quences. 'Tis thus only we fhall learn, how far thofe, who embrace them, find that Good and Happinefs, which we know they all purfue. I made anfwer, It feemed neceflary, and I fhould willingly attend him. §.4. To begin then, faid he, with the Political Life. Let us fee the Good, ufually 126 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. ufually fought after here. To a private Man, it is the Favour of fome Prince, of Commonwealth; the Honours and Emo luments derived from this Favour ; the Court and Homage of Mankind ; the Power of commanding others -To a Prince, it is the fame Things nearly, only greater in Degree ; a larger Command ; a ftrifter and more fervile Homage ; Glory, Conqueft, and extended Empire Am I right in my Defcription ? I replied, I thought he was. Whether then, faid he, all this deferve the Name of Good or not, I do not controvert. Be it one, or the other, it affects not our Inquiry. All that I would afk concerning it, is this > Do you not think it a Good (if it really be one) derived from Foreign and External Caufes ?' Undoubtedly, replied I. It cannot come then from ourfelves, ot be felf-derived. It cannot. And what fhall we fay as to its Duration- and Stabi" lity ? Is it fo firm and lofting, that we can not be deprived of it ? I fhould imagine, faid I, quite otherwife. You infift not then, A Dialogue. iif then, faid he, oh my appealing to Hiftory. Part I. You acknowledge the Fate of Favourites, of Empires, and their Owners. I re plied, I did. If fo, faid he, it fhould feem that this Political Good, which they feek, cPrrefponds not to the Pre-conceptions of being Durable, and Indeprivable. Far from it. But it appeared juft before, not to be felf- derived. It did. You fee then, faid he, that in three of our Pre-conceptions it intirely fails. So indeed, faid I, it appears. But farther, faid he — We are told of this Good, that in the Poffeffion it is attended with Anxiety; and that when loft, it is ufually loft with Ignominy and Difgrace; nay, often with Profecutions and the bit- tereft Refentments; With Mulcts, with Exile, and Death itfelf. 'Tis frequently, faid I, the Cafe. How then,4 faid he, can it anfwer that other Pre-conception, of contributing to our Weil-Being ? Can that contribute 1 28 Concerning HAfflJNiioo, Part I. contribute to Well -Being, whofe Confe- quences lead to Calamity, and whofe Pre- fence implies Anxiety ? This, it muft be confeffed, faid I, appears not probable. But once more, faid he There are certain Habits or Difpofltions of Mind, called Sincerity, Generofity, Candour, Plain-dealing, Juftice, Honour, Honefty, and the like. There are. And it has been generally believed, that thefe are agreeable to Nature. Affuredly. But it has been as generally believed, that the Political Good, we fpeak of, is often not to be acquired but by Habits, contrary to thefe; and which, if thefe are Natural, muft of neceftity be unnatural. What Habits, faid I, do you mean ? Flattery, anfwered he, Diffimulation, Intrigue: upon occafion, perhaps Iniquity, Falfhood, and Fraud. 'Tis poffible indeed, faid I, that fehefe may fometimes be thought necef- fary. How then, faid he, can that Good be agreeable to Nature, which cannot be acquired, but by Habits contrary to Nature % 'A DiAtdGUEi 129 Nature? Your Argument* faid I, Parti. feems jufti If then* faid he* we have* rfeafoneri rightly* and our Conclufions may be de pended on; it fhould feem that the sup posed Good, which the Political Life purfues, cbrrefpQnds not; in any In/lance* to * our Pre-conceptions ofthe Sovereign Good* I anfwered* So it appeared. §. 5. Let us quit then, faid he* thePo//-* ileal Life, and pafs to the Lucrative; The Ohjeft of this is Wealth. . Admit it* And is it not too often* faid he, the Cafe* that to acquire this, we are tempted to employ fome of thofe Habits, which we have juft condemned as Unnatural? Such, I mean, as Fraud, Falfhood, Injuftice, and the like ? It muft be owned, faid I, too often. Besides, continued he— —What fhall we fay to the Efteem, the Friendfhip, and Love of Mankind? Are they worth having? K Is 130 Concerning HAPPINESS', Parti. Is it agreeable, think you, to Nature,* ict endeavour to deferve them ? Agreeable* faid I, to Nature, beyond difpute. If fo, then to merit Hatred and Contempt, faid he, muft needs be contrary to Nature* Undoubtedly. And is there any thing which fo certainly merits Hatred and Contempt, as a mere ^Lucrative Life, fpent in the uniform Purfiiit of Wealth? .* I replied, I believed there was nothing. If fo, faid he, then as to correfpond- ing with our Pre-conceptions, the Lucrative Good, in this refpeft, fares no better than the Political. It appears not. And what fhall we fay as to Anxiety? Is not both the Pojeffion and Purfuit of Wealth,- to thofe who really love it, ever anxious ? It feems fo. And why anxious, but from a Certainty of its Infta-* bility ; from an Experience, how obnoxious" it is to every crofs Event ; how eafy to be loft and transfer'd to others, by the fame Fraud and Rapine, which acquired it to ourfelves ? This is indeed the triteft of. all A Dialogue; 131 all Topics. The Poets and Orators have Part I. , long ago exhaufted it. 'Tis true, faid I, they have. May we not venture then, faid he, upon the whole, to pafs the fame Sentence on the Lucrative Life, as we have already on the Politicals that it propofes not a Good, correfpondent to thofe Pre-conceptions, by which we would all be governed in the Good, which we are allfeeking? I anfwered, We might juftly. •• §.6. If then neither the Lucrative Life, nor the Political, faid he, procure that Good which we defire : fhall we feek it from the Pleasurable? Shall we make Pleasure our Goddefs? —- Pleafure * Whom Love attends, and foft Defire i and Words Alluring, apt thefleadiefl Heart to bend. So fays the Poet, and plaufible his Doc-' rine. Plaufible, faid I, indeed. K. 2 Let 1^2 Concerning HAPPINESS, • Parti. Let it then, continued he, be a plea* fur able World; a Race of harmlefsf loving Animals; an Elyfian Temperature of Sun- fhine and Shade. Let the Earth, in every Quarter, refemble our own dear Country ; where never was a Froft, never a Fog, never a Day, but was delicious and ferene. I was a little embarraffed at this un expected Flight, 'till recollecting myfelf, I told him, (but ftill with fome Surprize) that, in no degree to difparage either my Country or my Countrymen, I had never found Either fo exquifite, as he now fuppofed them. There are then k feems, faid he, in the Natural World, and even in our own beloved Country, fuch things as Storms^ and Tempefts-r as pinching Colds, and fcorchkg Heats, I replied, There were. And confe- quent to thefey Difeafey and Famine, and infinite Calamities, There are. And in the Civil or Human World,, we have Difcord and Contention *\ or (as the Poet ^Dialogue. 133 Poet better * dcferibes it) P^I* . Cruel Revenge, and rancorous Defpite, Difloyal Treafon, and heart-burning Hate. We have. Alafs"! then, poor Pleafure ! Where is that Gob d, accdmmo- date to eftery Time ; fuited to everf Place ; felf-derived, riot dependent on Foreign Ex ternal Caufes ? Can it be Pleasure, on fuch a changeable, fuch a turbulent Spot, as this ? I replied, I thought not. ' And what indeed, were the World, faid he, modelled' to a Temperature the moft exaB? Were the Rigours'' of the Seafons never more to be known ; nor Wars;- De valuations, Famines or Difeafes? Admit ting all this, (which we know to be im~J pqffibU) can we find ftill in Pleafure that lengthened Duration", whicbr we confider as an EJerifial, to conftitute the Sovereign, Gbod?:—-A^k the Glutton, the Drinker, K 3 the ?'Spencer's Fairy Queen, B. z. Cant. 7. Stanz. 22. 134 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. the Man of Gaiety and Intrigue, whether they know any Enjoyment, not to be can celled by Satiety? Which does not haftily pafs away into the tedious Intervals of In difference? Or yielding all this too, (which we know cannot be yielded) where are we to find our Good, how poffefs it in Age? In that Eve of Life, declining Age, when the Power of Senfe, on which all de pends, like the fetting Sun, is gradually for- faking us. ? I should imagine, faid I, that Pleafiire was no mean Adverfary, fince you em ploy, in attacking her, fo much of your Rhetoric. Without heeding what I faid, he purfued his Subjeft Befide, if this, I be our Good, our Happinefs,. and our End; t to what purpofe Powers, which bear no Relation to it ? Why Memory ? Why Reafon? Mere Senfation might have been as exquifite, had we been Flies or Earth worms-— Or can it be; proved otherwife ? I replied, I could not fay. No Ani mal,, continued he, pojejes its Faculties in vain* A D I A L O GU E. IJ5 vain. And fhall Man derive no Good PartL from his beft, his moft .eminent ? From That, which of all is peculiar to himfelf? For as to Growth and. Nutrition, they are not wanting to the meaneft Vegetable ; and fox. Senfes, there are Animals, which per haps exceed us in them all. . §. 7. This feems, faid I, no mean. Ar gument in favour of Contemplation. The Contemplative Life gives Reafm all the Scope, which it can defire. And pfall Lives, anfwered he, would it furely be the beft, did we dwell,, like Milton's Uriel, in • the Sun's bright Circle. Then might we plan indeed the moft, Romantic Kind of Happinefs. Stretch'd at Eafe, without Trouble or Moleftation, we might" pafs our Days, . contemplating the Uni verfe ; tracing its Beauty ; loft in Wonder ; ravifhed with Ecftacy, and I. know not what But here alafs ! on this fublunary, this turbulent Spot, (as we called it not long fince) how little is this, or any thing like it, praBicable ? Fogs arife, which K. 4 dim tp- Concerning HAPPINESS* Part L dim our Profpects— the Cares of Life peiv* petually moleft us— -Is Contemplation Jutted to a Place, like this ? It muft be owned, faid I, not extremely. How then isr it the Sovereign Good, which fhouldJ be Ac- ' commodate to every Place ? I replied; It feemed not probable. But farther, faid he— —Can we enjoy the Sovereign Good, and be at the farnfr , time vexed, and agitated by Paflion ? Dpes not this feem a Paradox ?' I anfwerfed, It did. Suppofe then an Event were r.6' happen— not an Inundation, or Maffacre—-' but an Acquaintance only drop a difrefpeB-* ful Word; a Servant chance to break a favourite Piece of 'Furniture— -What would"- inftruft us to endure this ? — Contempla* tion, Theory, Abftraftions ? Why not* faid I ? No, replied he with Warrfltb, (quoting the Poet) not « $ —. * Tho* all the Stars Thou knew' ft by Name; and all the Etheridl: Powers. For * Par. Lojl, B. 12, v. 576. 'A Dialogue. i^f For does not Experience teach us, abun«- Parti, dantly teach us, that our deepeft Philofc- ' phers, as tp Temper and Behaviour, are as very, Children fpr the moft part, as the meaneft and moft illiterate ? A little mpre Arrogance perhaps, frpm Prefumption of what they know, but not a grain more of Magnanimity, of Candour and calmjndu-* ranee. You are fomewhat too fevere, faid I, in cenfuring of all. There are better and worfe among Them, as among Others. The Difference is no way propor tioned, faid he, to the Quantity of their Knowledge; fo that whatever be its Caufe, it can't be imputed to their Speculations.—* Befides, can you really imagine, we came here only to Think ? Is ABing a Circum- ftance, which is foreign to Our CbaraBerf __ Why then fo many Social AffeBions, which all of us feel, even infpite of our felves ? Are we to fupprefs them All, as ufelefs 'and unnatural? The Attempt, replied!, muft needs be found imprafti- cable. ri38 Concerning HAPPINESS, Parti, cable. Were they once fuppreffed, faid. he, the ConfequencCs would be fomewhat ftrange. We fhould hear no more of Fa ther, Brother, Hufband, Son, Citizen, Ma- giftrate, and Society itfelf. And were this ever the Cafe, ill (I fear) would it fare with even Contemplation itfelf. It would oertainly be but bad Speculating, among lawlefs Barbarians Unaffociated Ani mals where Strength alone of Body was tp conftitute Dominion, and the Conteft came to be (as * Horace defcribes it) gldndem at que cubilia propter, Unguibus & pugnis, deinfuftibus - Bad enough, replied I, of all con- fcience. It fhould feem then, faid he, that not even the best Contemplative Life, however noble its ObjeB, was agreeable to our present Nature, or conflflent with *¦ Sat. 3. 1. 1. v. 99. A Dialo.gue." 139 with our prefent Situation. I eonfefs, Part I, faid I, you appear to have proved fo. But if this be allowed true of the Befl, the moft Excellent '; what fhall we fay to; the Mockery of Monkery; the Farce of Friars ; thp ridiculous Mummery of being fequeftred in a Cloyfter? This furely is too low a Thing, even to merit an Examina-* tion. I have no Scruples here, faid I, you;nee4 not wafte your Time. §.8. If that* faid he, be your Opinion,' let us look a little backward. For our Memory's fake it may be proper to reca pitulate. I replied, 'Twould be highly acceptable. Thus then, faid he — r- We have examined the four grand Lives, which we find the Generality of Men em brace; the Lucrative, and the Political; the Pleafurable, and the Contemplative. And we haye aimed at proving that-?- — to fuch a Being as Man, with fuch a Body, fuch AffeBions, fuch Senfes, and fuch an In-, telleB placed in fuch eWorld, fubjeB to fuch Incidents— not one of thefe Livgs is pro- 14© Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. produBive of that Good, which we flnd all Men to recognize thro' the fame uniform Pre-conceptions ; and which thro' one or Pther of thefe Lives they all of them purfue. §. 9. You havejuftly, faid I, collected the Sum of your Inquiries. And happy, faid he, fhould I think it, were they to terminate here, I afked him, Why? Becaufe, replied he, to in- finuate firft, that all Mankind are in the wrong; and then to attempt afterwards, to fhew one's filf only to be right ; is a Degree of Arrogance, which I would not willingly be guilty of, I ventured here to fay, That I thought he need not be fo diffident ^-that a Subjeft, where one's own Intereft appeared concerned fo nearly, would well juftify every Scruple, and even the fevereft Inquiry, There, faid he, you fay fomething there you encourage me indeed. For what?-. Are we not cautioned againft Counterfeits, even in Mat ters of meaneft Value ? If a Piece of Metal be tender' d us, which feems doubtful, do we A Dialogue", 141 We not hefitate ? Do we not try it by the Part L Teft, before we take it for Current? — And is not this deem'd Prudence ? Are we not cenfured, if we act otherwife ? — — ¦¦ How much more then does it behove us not to be impofed on here ? To be diffident and fcrupuloufly exact, where Impofiure, if once admitted, may tempt us to a far worfe Bar gain, than ever Glaucus made vrithDjomed? What Bargain, faid I, do you mean ? The Exchange, replied he, not of Gold for BrafSf but of Good for Evil, and of Happinefs for Mifery—— But enough off this, fince you have encouraged me to proceed— We are feeking that Good, which we think others have not found. Permit me thus to purfue my Subject. §. 10. Eve'ry Being on this our Ter* reflrial Dwelling, exifts encompaffed with infinite ObjeBs ; exifts among Animals tame, and Animals wild; among Plants and Ve getables of a thoufand different Qualities j among Heats and Colds, Tempefts and Calms, the Friendfhips and Difcords of hetero* ri42 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. heterogeneous Elements — - What fay you.? Are all thefe Things exaftly the fame to it; pr do they differ, think you, in their Ef- feBs and Conferences? They differ, faid I, widely. Some perhaps then, faid he, are Apt, Congruous, and Agreeable to its Natural State. I replied, They were. Others are In-apt, Incongruous, and Difagreeable. They are. And others again are Indifferent. They are. It fhould feem then, faid he, if this be allowed, that to every individual Beings without the leaft Exception, the whole Mafs of Things External, from the greateft to the meaneft, flood in the Relations of either % Agreeable, Difagreeable, or Indifferent. I replied, So it appeared. But tho' this, continued he, be true in the general, 'tis yet as certain when we defcend to Particulars, that what is Agree able to one Species is Difagreeable to another ; and not only fp, but perhaps Indifferent to A'.DiA'LdGMi 143 a third. Inftances of this kind, he faid, Part I. were too obvious to be mentioned. I Replied, 'Twas evident Whence then, faid he, this Diverfity ? — It cannot arife from the Externals — for Water is equally Water, whether to a Man, or to a Fifh; whether, operating on the one, it fuffoCafei or On the other, it give Life and Vigour. I replied, It was. So is Fire, faid he, the fame Fire, however various in its Confequences ; whether it harden or foften, give Pleafure or Pain* I replied, It was. But if this Di- verfityi continued he, be not derived from the Externals, whence can it be elfe ? — • Or can it poffibly be derived otherwife than from the peculiar Conftitution, from the Natural State of every Species itfelf? I replied, It appeared probable. Thus then, faid he, is it that Every particular Species is, itfelf to itfelf, the Meafure of all Things in the Univerfe— -that as Things vary in their Relations to it, they. vary 144 , Voncernkg HAPPiKfiSS* Part I. vary too in their Value — — and that iftheti* 1 Value be ever doubtful, it can no way be ad- jufted, but by recurring with Accuracy to the Natural State of the SpecieSi and to thofe feveral Relations, which fuch a State bf courfe creates t I anfwered* He ar* gued juftly. §. ii. To proceed then, faid be-— Tho- It be true, that every Species has a Natural State i as we have afferted^ it is not true* that every Species has a Senfe or Fe&ling of it. This Feeling or Senfe is a Natural Eminence or Prerogative) denied the Vege* table and Inanimate, and imparted only to the Animal I anfwered, It was. And think you, continued he, that as many- as have this Senfe- ox Feeling of a Natural State, are alienated from it* or in different to it ? Or is it not more probable, that they are welhaffeBed to it? Experience, faid I, teaches us, how Well they are ail affected. You are right, replied he. For what would be more abfurd, A Dialogue. 145 abfurd, than to be indifferent to their own Part I. Welfare; or to be alienated from it, as tho' 'twas Foreign and Unnatural? I replied, Nothing could be more. But, con tinued he, if they are welhaffeBed to this their proper Natural State, it fhould feem too they muft be well-affected to all thofe Externals, which appear apt, congruous, and Agreeable to it. I anfwered, They muft. And if fo, then ill-affeBed or averfe to fuch, as appear the contrary. They muft. And to fuch as appear indifferent, indifferent. They muft. But if this, faid he, be allowed, it will follow, that in confequence of thefe Appearances, they will think fome Exter-r nals worthy pf Purfuit; fome wprthy of Avoidance; and fome worthy of neither, 'Twas probable, faid I, they fhould. Hence then, faid he, amther Diviflon, of Things external; that is, into Purfuable, Avoidable, and Indifferent — a Divifion only belonging to Beings Senfltive and Animate becaufe all, below thefe, can neither avoid L nor 146 Concerning HAPPINESS, Parti, nor purfud I replied* They could '"~*~"-J not. If, then, faid he, Man be allowed in the Number of thefe Senfltive Beings, this -Divifion will affeft Man or to explain more fully, the whole Mafs of Things exter nal will, according to this Divifion, exifl to the Human Species in the Relations ofPur- fuable, Avoidable, and Indifferent. ' I re plied* They would. Should we therefore defire, faid he, Oj3* to know what thefe things truly are, we muft firft be informed* what is Man's truly Natural Constitution. For thus* you may rememberj 'twas fettled not long fince -— that every Species was its own Standard, and that when the Value of Things was doubtful, the Species was to be ¦ fludied; the Relations to be deduced, which were confequent, to it ; and in this manner the Value of Things to be adjufted and afcer- tainedi I replied, We had fo agreed it. I fear then, faid he, we are en gaged A Dialogue. 147 gaged in a more arduous Undertaking, a Part I. Talk of more Difficulty, than we were at *~~ v firft aware of-— -But tFortuna Fortes — we muft endeavour to acquit ourfelves as well as we are able. §, 12. That Man therefore has a Body, of a Figure and internal StruBure peculiar to itfelf; capable • of certain De grees of Strength, Agility, Beauty, and the like ; this I believe is evident, and hardly wants a Proof. I anfwered, I was willing to own it. That he is capable too of Pleafure and Pain ; is poffefs'd of Senfes, AffeBions, Appetites, and Averflons; this alfo feems evident, and can fcarcely be denied. I replied, 'Twas admitted. We may venture then to range HiMi in the Tribe of Animal Beings. effi I replied, We might. And think you, faid he, without Society, you or any Man could have been born? Moft certainly not. Without Society, when born, could you have been L 2 brought 148 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. brought to Maturity? Moft certainly" ' not. Had your Parents then had no Social AffeBions towards you in that peri* lous State, that tedious Infancy, (fo much longer than the longefl of other Animals) you muft have inevitably perifhed thro' Want and Inability, I muft. You perceive then that to Society you, and every Man are indebted, not only for the Beginning of Being, but fox the Continu ance. We are. Suppose then we pafs from this Birth and Infancy of Man, to his Maturity and PerfeBion — Is there any Age, think you, fo felf-fuffkient, as that in it he feels no Wants? What Wants, anfwered I, do you mean ? In the firft and prin cipal place, faid he, that of Food; then perhaps that of Raiment t and after this, a Dwellingr or Defence againft the Wea ther. Thefe Wants,, replied I, are furely Natural at all Ages. And is it not agreeable to' Nature, faid he, . that they fhould at all. Ages be fuppiied? Af- furediy. A Dialogue, 149 foredly. And is it not more agreeable Part I. to have themw^/Zfupplied, than ill? It is, And moft agreeable, to have them beft fuppHed ? Certainly. j If there be then any one State, better than all others, for the fupplying thefe Wants'; this State, of all others, muft needs be moft Natural. It muft. And what Supply, faid he, of thefe Wants, fhall we efteem the meanefl, which we can conceive ? — Would it not be fome thing like this ? Had we nothing beyond Acorns for Food; beyond a rude Skin, for? Raiment ; or beyond a Cavern, or hollow Tree, to provide us with a Dwelling ? Indeed, faid I, this would be bad enough. And do you not imagine, as far as this, we might each fupply ourfelves, tho' we lived in Woods, mere folitary Savages? I replied, I thought we might. Suppose then, continued he, that our Supplies were to be mended-r — -for inftance, that we were to exchange Acorns for L 3 ' Breads Concerning HAPPINESS, Bread — Would our Savage Character be fufficient here? Muft we not be a little better difciplined ? Would not fome. Art be requifite ? — The Baker's, for example. It would. And previoufly to the Baker's, that ofthe Miller? > It would. And previoufly to the Miller's, that of the Hufbandman ? It would. Three Arts then appear necejary, even upon the loweft Eftimatiori. 'Tis admitted. But a Queftion farther, faid he— ~Can the Hufbandman work, think ypu, with out his Tools ? Muft he not Jiave his Plough, his Harrow, his Reap-hook, and the like ? He muft. And muft not thofe other Artifts too be furnifhedin the fame manner ? They muft. An4 whence muft they be furnifhed? From their own Arts ? — Or are not the making Tools, and the ufing them, two different Occupations ? I believe, faid I, they are. You may be convinced, continued he, by fmall Recollection. Does AgriculT ture A Dialogue. , r^ 151 ture make its own Plough, its own Harrow? Parti. Or does it not apply to other Arts, for all Neceffaries of this kind ? It does. A,gain i Does the Baker build his own Oven; .or the Miller frame his own Mill ? It appears, faid I, no part pf their. Buflnefs. . What a Tribe of Mechanics then, faid he, are advancing upon us ?— Smiths, Car penters, Mafons, Mill-wrights and all thefe to provide the flngle Necejary of Bread, Not lefs than feven or eight Arts, we find, are wanting at the fewefl. It appears fo. And what if to the pro viding a comfortable Cottage, and Raiment fuitable to an ' induftrious Hind, we allow a dozen Arts more ? It would be eafy, by the fame Reafoning, to prove the Number double, I admit the Numberf faid I, mentioned. If fo, continued he, it fhould feem, that tpwards a tolerable Supply of the three Pri mary and Common Neceffaries, Food, Raiment, L 4 and i$z Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. and a Dwelling, not lefs than twenty Arts were, on the Ibweft Account, requiflte. It appears fo; And is one Mdn equal, think you, to the Ex&cife of thefe : twenty Arts ? If he had even Genius, which we can fcarce ima»s gine, is it poffible he fhould find Leifure? X replied, I thought not. If fo, then zfolitary, unfocial State can never fupply tolerably the common Neceffaries of Life. It cannot, But what if we pafs from the NecejfcH ties of Life, tp the Elegancies ? To Mufic, Sculpture, Painting and Poetry ? -rr- What if we pafs from all Arts, Whether Neceffary or Elegant, to the large and various Tribe of Sciences ? To Logic, Mathematics, AftroT nomy, Phyfics ? — Can one Man, iniagine you, matter all this ? Abfurd, faid I, im-r poffible. And yet in this Cycle of Sciences pndArts, feem included all the Comforts^ as well as Ornaments of Life * included all £ onducive, either to Being, or to WellrBeing. It A Dialogue. 153 It muft be ccnfefTed, faid I, it has PartL the Appearance, What then, faid he, muft be done? fn what manner muft We be fupplied? J anfwered, J knew not, unlefs we made a Diflribution*~ Let pne exercife one ,Art; and anpther a different — Let this Man ftudy fuch a Science j and that Man, another Thus the whole Cycle (as you; call it) may be carried eafily into Perfec tion. 'Tis true, faid he, it may; and: every Individual, as far as his own Art or Science, might be fupplied completely, and as well as he could wifh. But what avails a /Supply in a flngle Inftance? What in this , Cafe are to become of all his numerous other Wants? You conceive, replied I, what I would have faid, but partially. My Meaning was, that Artift trade with Ar-i tifl ; each fupply where he is deficient, by exchanging where he abounds; fo that ^ Portion of every jhing may be difperfed throughout all, Ypu intend then a State, faid i_54 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I, faid he, of Commutation and Traffic, I replied, I did. Ip fo, continued he, I fee a new Face of things. The Savages, with their Skins and their Caverns, difappear. In their place I behold a fair Community rifing. No longer Woods, no longer Solitude, but all is Social, Civil, and Cultivated — And can we doubt' any farther, whether Society be Natural? Is. not this evidently the State, which can beft fupply th.e Primary Wants ? It has ap peared fo, And did we not agree fome time fince, that this State, whatever, we found it, would be certainly of all others the moft agreeable to our Nature? We did. And have we not added, fince this, to the Weight of our Argument, by paffing from the Necejary Arts to the Ele gant; from the Elegant, to the Sciences? We have. The more, faid he, we confider, the more fhall we be con-: vinced, that AU thefe, the nobleft Honours and Ornaments of the Human Mind, with* out that Leifure, that Experience, that Emu lation, A Dialogue. 155 lation, that Reward, which the Social State PartL alone we know is able to provide them, could never have found Exiftence, or been in the leaft recognized. Indeed, faid I, I believe not. Let it not be forgot then, faid he, in favour of Society, that to it we owe, not, only the Beginning and Continuation, but the Well-Being, and (if I may ufe the Ex- preffion) the very Elegance, and Rationality ( of our Exiftence. I anfwered, It ap peared evident. And what then, continued he ?— . If Society be thus agreeable to our Nature, is there nothing, think you, within us, to ex cite and lead us to it ? No Impulfe, no Pre paration of Faculties? It would be ftrange, anfwered I, if there fhould not. 'Twould be a lingular Exception, faid he, with refpeft to all other herding Species — Let us however examine — Pity, Benevolence, Friendfhip, Love ; the general * Diflike of Solitude, and Defire of Com pany; 156 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. pany ; are they Natural AffeBions, which come of themfelves j or are they taught us by Art, like Mufic and Arithmetic? I fhould think, replied I, they were Na tural, becaufe in every Degree of Men fome Traces of them may be difcovered. And are not the Powers and Capacities of Speech, faid he, the fame ? Are not all Men naturally formed, to exprefs their Sen-* timents by fome kind of Language ? ¦ I re* plied, They were, If then, faid he, thefe feveral Powers^ and Difpofltions are Natural^ fo fhould feem too thfeir Exercife, Admit it. And' if their Exercife, then fo too that- State, where alone they can be exercifed. Ad-s mit it. And what is this State, but the Social? Or where elfe is it poffible to Con-, verfe, or ufe our Speech ; to exhibit Aftions of Pity, Benevolence, Friendfhip or Love ; to relieve our Averflon fo So/itude, or gratify pur Defire of being with others ? I re-» plied, It could be np where elfe. You A Dialogue.' 157 You fee then, continued he* a Prepa- Parti. ration of Faculties is not wanting. We are fitted with Powers and-Difpofitions, which have only Relation to Society ; and which, out of Society, can no where elfe be exercifed. I replied, It was evident. You have feen too the fuperior Advantages of the Sociat State, shove all others. I have. Let this then be remember'd, faid he, throughout all our future Reafonings, re member'd as a firft Principle in our Ideas of Humanity, that Man by Nature is truly a Social Animal. I promifed it mould. §. 13. Let us now, faid he, examine; what farther we can learn concerning Him. As Social indeed, He is diftinguifhed from the Solitary and Savage Species; but in no degree from the reft, of a milder and more friendlyNature. 'Tis true, replied I, He is not. Does He then differ no more fromthefe Concerning HAPPINESS, ' thefe feveral Social Species, than they, each of them, differ from one another f Muft we range them all, and Man among the reft, under the fame common and general Genus ? I fee no Foundation, faid I, for making a Diftinftion. Perhaps, faid he, there may be none; and 'tis poffible too there may. Confider a little — Do you not obferve in all other *J* Species, a Similarity among Individuals? a fiirprizing Likenefs, which runs thro' each Particular? In one Species they are all Bold; in another, all Timorous ; in one all Ravenous; in another, all Gentle. In the ¦Bird-kind only, what ^Uniformity of Voice, in each Species, as to their Notes ; of Ar- cbiteBure, as to building their Nefts ; of Food, both for themfelves, and for fupr porting their Young ? 'Tis true, faid I. And do you obferve, continued he, the fame Similarity among Men? Are thefe all as Uniform, as to their Sentiments and ABions ? I replied, By no means. One A vDl ALOfGUE; 159 PartL One Queftion more* faid he, as to the Charafter of Brutes, if I may be allowed the Expreffion — Are thefe, think you, what we behold them, by Nature or otherwife ? Explain, laid I, yoUr Queftion, for I do not well conceive you; I mean, replied he, is it by Nature that the. Swallow builds her Neft, and performs all the Offices of -her Kind : Or is fhe taught by Art, by Difcipline, or Cuflom? She afts, re plied I, by pure Nature undoubtedly. And is not the fame true, faid he, of every other Bird and Beaft in the Univerfe ? It is. No wonder then, continued he, as they have fo wife a Governefs, that a uniform Rule of ABion is provided for each Species. For what can be more worthy the Wifdom of Nature, than ever to the fame Subflances to give the fame Law ? It ap pears, faid I, reafonable. But what, continued he, fhall we fay as to Man ? Is He too actuated by Nature purely? I anfwered, Why not ? If *6o Concerning HAPPINESS* Parti. If He be* replied he* 'tis ftrangein Nature} that with refpeft to Man alone, fhe fhould follow fo different a Conduft. The Particu lars in other Species, we agree* fhe renders Uniform ; but in Our's, every Particular feems a fort of Model by himfelf. If Nature, feid I, do not actuate us, what can we fup pofe elfe ? Are Local Cuftoms, faid he, Na ture ? Are the Polities and Religions of par ticular Nations* Nature? Are the Examples-i which are fet before us ; the Preceptors who inftruft us ; the Company and Friends, with whom we converfe, all Nature ? No furely, faid L And yetj faid he, 'tis evident that by thefe, and a thoufand incidental Circum&ances, equally foreign to Nature, our Actions, and Manners, and Characters are adjufted. Who then can imagine, we are actuated by Nature only ? I confefs, faid I, it appears con trary. You fee then, jaid he, one remarkable DiftinBion between Man and Brutes in ge neral— In the Brute, Nature does all; in Man, A Dialogue. 161 Manp but Part only. 'Tis evident, Part I. faid L BuT farther^ continued he— — Let us confider the Powers, or Faculties, poffeffed by each- — Suppofe I was willing to give a Brute the fame InftruBion, which we give a Man. A Parrot perhaps, or Ape, might arrive to fome fmall Degree of Mimicry; but do you think, upon the whole, they would be much profited or altered? I replied, I thought not. And do you perceive the fame, faid he, with refpeft to Man? Or does not Experience fhew us the very reverfe ? Is not Education capable of J»$5 moulding us into any thing of making us greatly Good, or greatly Bad; greatly Wife, or greatly Abfurd? The Faft, faid I, is indifputable. Mark then, faid he, the Difference between Human Powers and Brutal — The Leading Principle of Brutes appears to tend in each Species to one flngle Purpofe; — to this, m general, it uniformly arrives ; and here, M - in 102 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. in general, it as uniformly flops — it needs no Precepts or Difcipline to inftruft it ; nor will it eafily be changed, or admit a diffe rent DireBion. On the contrary, the Lead ing Principle of Man is capable of infinite DireBions — is convertible to all forts of Purpofes — -equal to all forts of SubjeBs— neglefted, remains ignorant, and void of 'every Perfection — ~— cultivated, becomes adorned with Sciences and Arts — can raife us to excel, not only Brutes, but our own Kind — with refpeft to our other Powers and Faculties, can inftruft us how to ufe them, as Well as thofe of the various Natures, Which we fee exifting around us. In a word, to oppofe the two Principles to each other — The Leading Principle of Man, is Multiform, Originally UninftruBedy Pliant and Doci I — the Leading Principle of Brutes is Uniform, Originally InfiruBed; but, in moft Inftances afterward, Inflexible and Indocil — —Or does not Experience plainly ifhew, and confirm the Truth of what we affert I I made anfwer, It did. You A Dialogue^ 163 > You allow, then, faid fie, the Human Part I. Principle, and the Brutal^ to be things of (*^v-^i different Idea; Undoubtedly. Do they not each then deferve a different Ap pellation ? I fhould think fo. Sup pofe therefore we call the Human Principle Tti.3k- ReASon; and the Brutal; Instinct: Would you objeft to the Terms ? I re plied* I fhould not; If not* continued he* then Reafon beiHg peculiar to Man,, of all the Animals inhabiting this Earth, may we not affirm of Him, by way of Diftinc- tion* that He is a Rational Animal? t replied* We might juftiy; Le t this too then be remember'd, faid he, in the Courfe of our Inquiry* that Mam *£j| is by Nature a Rational Animal; I promifed it fhould* §. 14; In confequence of this* faid he* a& often as there is Occafion, I fhall appeal as well to Reafon, as to Nature * for a Standard, What, faid I, do you mean by Nature? M 2 Its 164 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. Its Meanings, replied he, are many and various: As it- ftands at prefent op pofed* it may be enough perhaps to' fay, that Nature is that, which is the Caufe of every thing, except thofe Things alone, which are' the immediate EffeBs of Reafon. In other words, whatever is not Reafon, or theEffeB of Reafon, we would confider as Nature, ox the EffeB of Nature. I an swered, as he fo diftinguifhed them, I thought he might juftly appeal to either. And yet* continued he, there is a re markable Difference between the Standard of Reafon, and that of Nature ; a Diffe rence, which at no time we ought to for get. What Difference, faid I, do you mean ? 'Tis this, anfwered he - — In Nature % the Standard is fought from among the Mariy ; in Reafon, the Standard is fought from among the Few. You muft ex plain, faid I, your Meaning, for I muft confefs you feem obfcure. Thus A Dialogue, 165 Thus then* faid he Suppofe, as an Parti, Ariatomift, you were feeking the Strufture ' of fome internal Part To difcover this, would you not infpeft a Number of Indi viduals ? I fhould. And wpuld you not inform yourfelf, whit had been dis covered by others ? I fhould. And fupppfe, after aU,. you fhould find a Mul~ titude of Inftances for one Strufture, and a few flngular for a different : by which would you be governed ? By the Mul titude, faid I, undoubtedly. Thus then continued he, in Nature the Standard^ you fee, exifls among the Many. I replied^ It had fo appeared. And what, faid he, were we to feek the Perfeftion of Sculpture, or of Paint ing ? — Where fhould we inquire then ? — Among the numerous common Artifts, or • among the few and celebrated ? Among the Few, faid I, What if we were to feek the Perfeftion of Poetry, or Oratory-— Where then? Among the Few ftill. M 3 What Concerning HAPPINESS, What if we were to feek the Per* feftion pf true Argument, or a found Logic ——Where then ? Still among the Few. And is npt true Argument, pr a found Logic, one of Reafon's greateft PerfeBions ? It is. You fee then, continued he, whence the Standard of Reafon is to be fpught-r— 'Tis from among the Few, as we faid before, in contradjs ftinftion to the Standard of Nature. I cpnfefs, faid I, it appears fo. And happy, faid he, for us, that Provi dence has fo ordered it happy for us, that what isRational, depends not on the Multi tude ; or is to be tried by fo pitiful a Teft, as the bare counting of Nofes. 'Tis bappy, faid I, indeed— —But whence pray the Dif ference ? Why are the Many to determine in Nature, and the Few only, in Reafon ? To difcufs thjs at large, faid he, would require fome time. It might in- fenfibly perhaps draw us from pur prefent Inquiry. I will endeavour to give you the Reafon? in as few words as poffible ; which mould they chance to be obfcure, be not too A Dialogue. too folicitous for an Explanation. I begged him to proceed his own way. The Cafe, faid he, appears to be this — In Natural Works and Natural Operations, we hold but one Efficient Caufe, and that confummateiy wife. This Caufe in every Species recognizing what is beft, and work- ' ing ever uniformly according to this Idea of PerfeBion, the ProduBions and Energies, in every Species where it acts, are for the moft part flmilar and exaftly correfpondent. If an Exception ever happen, it is from fome hidden higher Motive, which tran-* feends pur Comprehenfion, and which is feen fo rarely, as not to injure the general Rule, pr render it doubtful and precarious. On the contrary, in the Productions and Energies pf Reafon, there is not one Caufe but infinite^r-a% many indeed, as there are Agents of the Human Kind, Hence Truth being but one, and Error being infinite, and Agents infinite alfo: what wonder they fhould oftener mifs, than hit the Mark ? — that Multitudes fhould fail, where one alone M 4 fuc* » r68 Concerning HAPPJNESS, Parti, fucceeds, and Truth be only the Poffeffion of the chofen, fortunate Few? • You feem to have explained the Difficulty, faid I, with fufficient Perfpicuity. Let us then go back, &id he, and re- colleft ourfelves ; that we may npt forget, what 'tis we are feeking. I replied, Moft willingly. We haye been feek? ing, continued he, the Sovereign Good. In cppfequence of this Inquiry^ we have dif- cpvered— — that all Things whatever exifl to the Human Species in the Relations of either Purfuable, Avoidable, or Indifferent,. Tp determine thefe Relations with Accuracy^ we have been fcrutinizing the Human Nature ; and that, upon this known Maxim, that every Species was its own proper Standard ; 'and fhat where tbe Value of Things was dubious, there the Species was tp be fludied, andthe Relations to be deduced, which naturally flow from it. The Refult of this Scrutiny has been— --that we have firft agreed Man tp be a facial Animal ; and fince, to be a Rational. So that if we can. A Dialogue. 169 ,can be content with a deferiptive, Concife Parti. Sketch of Human Nature, it will amount *" to this — -that Man is a Social Ra-i- tional Animal. I anfwered? It had appeared fo. §. 15. If then, f^id he, we purfue our Difquifitions, agreeably to this Idea of Hu man Nature, it will follow that all Things will be Purfuable, Avoidable, and Indiffe- rent to Man, as they refpeft the Being and Welfare of fiich a Social, Rational Animal. I replied. They muft. Nothing therefore in the firft place, faid he, can be Purfuable^ which is de- flruBive of Society. It cannot. Afts therefore of Fraud and Rapine, and all acquired by them, whether Wealth, Power, Pleafure, or any thing, are evi-. dently from their very Character not fit to be purfued. They are not. But it is impoffible not to purfue many fuch things, unlefs we are furnifhed with forne Habit or Difpofltion pf Mind* by which 17© Concerning HAPPINESS, JPart I, which we are induced to render to all Men their own, and to regard the Welfare, and Intereft of Society. It is impoflible. But the Habit or Difpofltion of ren dering to all their own, and of regarding the Welfare and Intereft of Society, is Justice. It is. We may there fore fairly conclude, that Nothing is natu rally Purfuable, but what is either correfpon-. dent to Juftice, or at leafl not contrary, I. confjefs, faid I, fo it appears. But farther, faid he — 'Tis poffible we may have the beft Difpofition to Society ; the moft upright Intentions ; and yet thro' Want of Ability to difcern, and know the Nature of Particulars, we may purfue many things inconfiftent, as well with our Private Intereft, as the Public. We may even, purfiie what is Right, and yet purfue it in fuch a manner, as to find our Endea vours fruitlefs, and pur Purpofes to fail, I anfwered, 'TwaS poffible. But this would ill befit the Charafter of a Rational Animal. It would. It is necef- A D I A L , O G UB, 171 Beceffary therefore, we fhould be furrufhed Part I, with fome Habit or Faculty, inftrufting us v how to difcern the real Difference of all Particulars, and fuggefting the proper Means, by which we may either avoid or obtain them. It is. And what is this, think you, but Prudence ? I believe, faid I, it can be no other. Jf it be, faid he, then 'tis evident from this Reafoning, that Nothing is purfuable^ which is not correfpondent to Prudence. ® I replied. He had fhewn it could not. But farther ftill, faid he — 'Tis poffible we may neither want Prudence, nor Juftice to direct us ; and yet the Impulfes of Appe tite, the Impetuofities of Refentment, the Charms and Allurements of a thoufand flat tering Objefts, may tempt us, in fpite of purfelves, tp purfue what is both Imprur dent, and Unjuft. They may. But if fo, 'tis neceffary, would we purfue as becomes our CharaBer, that we fhould be furnifhed with fome Habit, which may moderate our Exceffes ; which may temper our 1 72 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. our Aftions to the .Standard of a Social State, and to the Intereft and Welfare, not of a Pari, but of the Whole Man. Nothing, faid I, more neceffary. And what, faid he, can we call this Habit, but •the Habit of Temperance ? You name it, faid I, rightly^ If you think fo, replied he, then Nothing can be Pur fuable, which is not either correfpondent to % Temperance, or at leaft not contrary. I replied, So it feemed. Once more, continued he, and we have done— 'Tis poffible that not only Refentment and Appetite, not only the Charms and Al lurements of external Objefts, but the Ter rors too, and Dread of them may marr the ReBitude of our Purpofes. 'Tis poffible. Tyranny and Superftition may af- fail us on one hand ; the Apprehenfions of Ridicule, and a Falfe Shame on the other — 'Tis expedient, to witliftand thefe, we fhould be armed with fome Habit, or our wifeft beft Purfiiits may elfe at all times be de feated. They may. And what is that A Dialogues 173 that generous* manlike and noble Habit x, Part I. which "fets us at all times above Fear and Danger; what is it but Fortitude? I replied, It was no other. If fo then, continued he, befides pur former Conclufions, Nothing farther can be Pur fuable, as our Inquiries now have fhewn us, which is not either correfpondent to For- # titude, or at leafl not contrary. I admit, faid I, it is not. Observe then, faid he, the Sum, the Amount of our whole Reafoning — No thing is truly Purfuable to fuch an Animal as Man, except what is correfpondent, or at leafl not contrary, to Justice, Prudence, b^ Temperance and Fortitude. I al low, faid I, it appears fo. But if no thing Purfuable, then nothing Avoidable or Indifferent, but what is tried and eftimated after the fame manner. For Contraries are ever recognized thro' the fame Habit, one with another. The fame Logic judges of Truth and Falfhood; the fame Mufical Art, of Concord and Difcord. So the fame Mental i% Concerning HAPPINESS, Part L Mental Habitudes, of Things Avoidable and Purfuable i I replied, It appeared pro* table. - To how unexpefted a Conclufion then* laid he, have our Inquiries infenfibiy led tis ? - — - In tracing the Source of Human Action, we have eftablifhed it to be thofe Pour Grand Virtues, which are efteemed, for their Importance, the very Hinges of all Morality.. We have* Btf t if fb, it fhould follow* that a Lifei whofe Purjuings and Avoidings are go* verned by thefe Virtues^ is that True and ^Rational Life, which we have fo long been feeking ; that Life, where the Value xvfall things is juflly meafured by thofe Rela*- tions, which they bear to the Natural Frame and real Conftitution of Mankind— in fewer Words, A Life of Virtue appears to be the Life according to Na* ture. It appears fo* But A DiALOGtJ& ff$ But in fuch a Life every Purfuit, every Part L Avoiding, (to include all) every ABion will' of courfe admit of being rationally juflifled* It will. But That, which being Done, admits of a Rational Juftifleation, is the Effence or genuine Character of an Office, or Moral Duty. For thus long ago it has been defined by the beft * Au thorities. Admit it. If fo, then a Life according to Virtue, is a Life according to Moral Offices or Duties. It appears fo. But we have already agreed it, to be a Life according to Nature. We have. Obferve then: A Life ac cording to Virtue, according to Moral Offices, and accord ing to Nature, mean all The same Thing, tho' varied in the Ex preffion. Your Remark, faid I, feems juft. §• 15- * By Tally in his Offices, and by other Author* *>f Antiquity, ,76 Conc"ernlHg HAPPINESS* Parti. §. 16. We need never therefore* re-; 'plied he, be at a lofs how to chufe, tho' the Objefts of Choice be ever fo infinite and diverfified; As far as nothing is in- confident with fuch a Life and fuch a Cba- ,raBer, we may juftly fet Exiftence before Death ; prefer Health to Sicknefs ; Inte grity of the Limbs, to being maimed and debilitated ; Pleafure to Pain ; Wealth to Poverty; Fame to Difhonour; Free Go vernment to Slavery; Power and Magi- ftracy, to Subjection and a private State — i- Univerfally, whatever tends either to Being, or to Well-Being, we may be juftified, when we prefer to whatever appears the con* trary. And when. our feveral Energies, exerted according fo the Virtues above, have put us in Poffeffion of all that we require : what then can there be wanting to complete our Happinefs', to render our State perfeBly confonant to Nature ; or to .give us a more Sovereign Good, than that which we now enjoy ? Nothing, re plied I, that I can at prefent think of. There A Dialogue.' 177 There would be nothing indeed, faid PartT. he, were our Energies never to fail; were alloux Endeavours to be ever crowned with due Succefs. But fuppofe the contrary Suppofe the woffl Succefs to the moft up right ConduB; to the wifeft Rectitude of Energies and Aftions. 'Tis poffible, nay Experience teaches us 'tis too often fact, that not only the Purfuers of what is con trary to Nature, but that thofe who purfue nothing but what is Jtri&ly congruous to if, may mifs of their Aims, and be fruftrated in their Endeavours. Inquifitors and Monks may deteft them for their Virtue, and purfue them with all the Engines of Malice and Inhumanity. Without thefe, Pefts may afflift their Bodies*. Inunda tions o'erwhelm their Property; or what is worfe than Inundations, either Ty rants, Pirates, Heroes, or Banditti. They may fee their Country fall, and with it their braveft Countrymen ; themfelves pillaged, and reduced to Extremities, or N perifhing "178 Concerning HAPPINESS,. PartL perifhing with the reft in the general ' Maffacre. * cadit & Ripheusjuftiffimus unus Quifuit in Teucris, & fervantijimus aqui. It muft be owned, faid I, this has too often been the Cafe. Or grant, continued he, that thefe greater Events never happen — -that the Part allotted us, be not in the Tragedy of Life, but in the Comedy. Even the Comic Diftreffes are abundantly irkfome Domeftic Jars, the ill Offices of Neigh bours Sufpicions, Jealoufks, Schemes defeated The. Folly of Fools* the Knavery of Knaves ; from which, as Mem bers of Society, 'tis impoffible to detach, ourfelves. Where *^neid. 1.2, v. 426. A Dialogue." 170 * Where then fhall we turn, or what Part I. have we to imagine ? We have at length ' placed Happiness, after much Inquiry, in attaining the primary and juft Requifites of our Nature, by a ConduB fuitable to Virtue and Moral Office. But as to correfponding with our Pre-conceptions (which we have made the Teft) does this Syflem correfpond better, than thofe others, which we have rejected ? Has it not appeared from various Fafts, too obvious to be difputed, that in many Times and Places it may be abfolutely unattainable? That in many, where it exifts, it may in a moment be cancelled, and put irretrievably out of our Power, by Events not to be refi/led? If this be certain, and I fear it cannot be queftioned, our fpecious long Inquiry, however accurate we may believe it, has not been able to fhew us a Good, of that Charafter which we require; a Good Durable, Indepri- vable, and Accommodate to every Circum- flance — --Far from it Our Speculations N 2 (I *8o Concerning HAPPINESS, Part I. (I think) rather lead us to that low Qpiniort ~~* of Happinefs, which you may remember , you *expreffed, when we firft began the Subjeft. They rather help to prove tp us, i that inftead of a Sovereign Good, .'tk the more probable Sentiment, there is no fuch Good at dlh I fhould indeed, faid I, fear fo. For where, continued he, lies the Difference, whether we purfue "what is congruous to Nature, or not con gruous ; if the Acquifition of one be as dif ficult, as of the other $ and the Pojejion of both equally doubtful and precarious? If '0. Cafar fall, in attempting his Country's Ruin ; and Brutus fare no better, who only fought in its Defence ? It muft be owned, faid I, thefe are melancholy Truths, and the Inftances, which you alledge, too i well confirm them. We were in the midft of thefe feridus Thoughts, defcanting upon the Hardfhips and i - 11 * See p. in. A Dialogue, 181 and Miferies of Life, when by an Inci- Part I. dent, not wprth relating, our Speculations ' were interrupted. Nothing at the time, I thpught, could have happened more un*- luckily— our Queftion perplexed its Iffue uncertain — — and myfelf impatient to knpw the Event. Neceffity however was not to be refilled, and thus for the prefent pur Inquiries were ppftponed. N 7 CON- CONCERNING HAPPINESS, DIALOGUE. PART the Second, BRUTUS perifhed untimely, andVaxtll. Caefar did no more — Thefe Words ' I was repeating the next day to myfelf, when my Friend appeared, and chearfully bade me Good-Morrow. I could not return his Compliment with an equal Gaiety, being intent, fomewhat more than ufual, on what had paffed the day before. Seeing this, he propofed a Walk into the Fields. The Face of Nature, faid he, will perhaps difpel thefe Glooms, No Affiftance, on my part, fhall be wanting, N 4 you 184 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part II. you may be affured. I accepted his Pro-*- pofal ; the Walk began ; and our former Coriverfation infbnfibly- renewed. Brutus, faid he, perifhed untimely, and Caefar did no more 'Twas thus, as I re- member? not long fince you were expref fing yourfelf. And yet fuppofe their Forr tunes to have been exaftly parallel — — Which would you have preferred ? Would you have been Cafixr or Brutus ? Brutus, replied I, beyond all controverfy. He afked me, Why ? Where was the Dif ference, when their Fortunes, as we now fuppofed them, were cpnfidered as the fame? There feems, faid I, abftraft from thelrForfunes, fomething, I know not what, intrinflcally preferable in the Life and Cha^ rafter of 'Brutus. If that, faid he, be true, then muft we derive it, not from the Succefs of his Endeavours, but from their Truth and ReBitude, He had the Comfort to be eonfcious, that his Caufe was a juft pne. "Jwas impoffible the other fhould have '4 Dialogue. 185 have any fuch Feeling. I believe, Part II. faid I, you have explained it. Suppose then, continued he, ('tis but merely an Hypothefis) fuppofe, I fay, we were to place the Sovereign Good infucb a ReBitude of ConduB in the Conduct merely, and not in the Event. Suppofe we were to fix our Happiness, not in the aBual Attainment of that Health, that Per feftion of a Secial State, that fortunate Concurrence of Externals,, which is con gruous to our Nature, and which we have a Right all to purfue ; but folely fix it in the mere Doing whatever is correfpondent to fitch an End, even tho' we never attain, or are near attaining k. In fewer words-rr- What if we make our Natural State the Standard only to determine our ConduB; and place pur Happinefs in the ReBitude of this ConduB alone? On fuch an Hypothefis (and we confider it as nothing farther) we fhould not want a Good perhaps, to cor- tefpond to our Preconceptions ; for this, 'tis evident, would be correfpondent to them all. *8& Concerning HAPPINESS, Part II. all. Your Doctrine, replied I, is fa- new and ftrange, that tho' you been copi ous in explaining, I can hardly yet com prehend you. It amounts all, faid he, but to this — - Place your Happinefs, where your Praife is, J afked, Where he fuppofed that ? Not, replied he, in the Plea- fores which you feel, more than your Pifgrace lies in the Pain-^ rnot in the cafual Prosperity of Fortune, more than your Difgrace, in the cafual Adverfity but in juft complete ABion throughout every. Part of Life, what ever be the Face of Things, whether favourable or the con-* trary. But why then, faid I, fiich Accuracy about Externals ? So much Pains to be in formed, what are Purfuable, what Avoids able ? - It behoves the Pilot, replied he, to know the Seas and the Winds ; the Nature of Tempefts, Calms and Tides. They are the SubjeBs, about which his Art is A Dialogue. 187 is converfant. Without a juft Experience Part II. of them, he can never prove himfelf an Artift. Yet we look not for his Reputa tion either in fair Gales, or in adverfe$ but in the Skilfulnefs of his ConduB, be thefe Events as they happen. In like manner fares it with this the Moral Artift. He, for a SubjeB, has the Whole of Human Life Health and Sicknefs ; Pleafure and Pain ; with every other poffible Incident, which can befal him during his Exiftence. If his Knowledge of all thefe be accurate and* exaft, fo too muft his ConduB, in which we place his Happinefs. But if this Know-* ledge be defective, muft not his Conduct be defeftive alfo ? I replied, So it fhould feem. And if his Conduft, then his Happinefs ? 'Tis true. You fee then, continued he, even tho* Externals were as nothing; tho' 'twas true, in their own Nature, they were neither Good nor Evil; yet an accurate Knowledge of them is, from our Hypothefis, abfolutely 'neceffary. 1 88 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part II. necejary. Indeed, faid I, you have proved it. He continued Inferior Artifts maybe at a ftand, becaufe they want Materials, From their Stubbvrnefs and IntraB ability, they may often be difappointed. But as long as Life is paffing, and Nature con tinues to operate, the Moral Artift of Life has at all times, all he defires. He can never want a SubjeB fit to exercife him in his proper Calling; and that, with this happy Motive to the Conftancy of his Endeavours, that, the croffer, the harfher," the more untoward the Events, the greater his Praife, the more illuftrious his Repu* tatipn. All this, faid I, is true, and cannot be denied. But one Circumftance there ap pears;, where your Similes .feem to fail. The Praife indeed of the Pilot we allow to be in his ConduB -, but 'tis in the Succefs of that Conduft, where we look for his Happinefs. If a Storm arife, and the Ship be A DiALbGUE. 189 be loft, we call him not happy, how well Part IL foever he may have condufted. 'Tis then ' only we congratulate him* when he has reached the defired Haven. Your DiftinftioP, faid he, is juft. And 'tis here lies the noble Prerogative of Moral Artifts, \% above all others But yet I know not how to explain myfelf, I fear my Doftrine will appear fo ftrange. You may proceed, faid I fafely, fince you advance it but as an Hypothefis: Thus then, continued he — The End in others Arts is ever diflant and removed. It confifts not in the mere ConduB, much lefs in a flngle Energy; but is the juft Re fult of many Energies, each of which are effential to it. Hence, by Obftacles un avoidable, it may often be retarded: Nay more, may be fo embaraffed, as never pof fibly to be attained. But in the Moral Art of Life, the very Conduct is the End ; ™ the very ConduB, I fay, itfelf, throughout every its minuteft Energy ; becaufe each of thefe, however minute, partake as truly of ReBitude^ loo Concerning HAPPINESS, Part IL ReBittfde, as the largefl Combination oftbeni, when confldered coUeftively. Hence of all Arts is this the only one perpetually complete in every Inftant, becaufe it needs not, like other Arts, Time to arrive at that Perfeftion, at which in every Inftant 'tis arrived already. Hence by Duration it is not rendered either more or lefs perfect; Completion, like Truth, admitting of no Degrees, and being in no fenfe capable of either Intenflon or Remijfion. And hence too by neceffary Connection (which is a greater Paradox than 'all) even that Happi- mfs ox Sovereign Good, the End of this Moral Art, is itfelf too, in every Inftant, *ConJummate and Complete ; is neither heigh tened or diminifhed by the Quantity of its Duration, but is the fame to its Enjoyers, for a Moment or a Century. Upon this I fmiled. He afked me the Reafon. 'Tis only to obferve, faid I, the Courfe of our Inquiries — A new Hy pothefis has been advanced - — -Appearing fomewhat ftrange, it is deflred to be ex plained-— A Dialogue. 191 plained — -You comply with the Requeft* Part If and, in purfuit of the Explanation, make it ten times more obfcure and unintelligibki than before. 'Tis but too often the Fate, faid he, of us Commentators. But you know in fuch cafes what is ufually done. When the Comment will not ex plain the Text, we try whether the Text will not explain itfelf. This Method, 'tis poffible, may affift us here. The Hypo thefis, which we would have illuftrated, was no more than this That the Sove reign Good lay in ReBitude of ConduB; and that this Good correfponded to all our Pre" conceptions. Let us examine then, whether, upon trial, this Correfpondence will appear to hold; and, for all that we have advanced fince, fuffer it to pafs, and not perplex us. Agreed, faid I, willingly, for now; I hope to comprehend you. §. 2. Recollect then, faid he. Do you not remember that one Pre-conception ofthe Sovereign Good was, to be accommodate to all Times and Places ? I remember it. And 192 Concerning H APPlNESS, Part II. And is there any Time, or any Place, 1 whence ReBitude of ConduB may be ex cluded? Is there not a right Aftion in Profperity, a right Aftion in Adverfity ?— May there not be a decent, generous, and laudable Behaviour, not only in Peace* in Power, and in Health; but in War, in Oppreffion, in Sicknefs and iri Death ? There may. And what fhall we fay to thofe other Pre-conceptions to being Durable^ Self- derived, and Indeprivabk? Can there be any Good fo Durable, as the Power of al ways doing right ? Is there any Good con- ceiveable, fo intirely beyond the Power of others ? Or* if you hefitate, and are doubt ful, I would willingly be informed, into what Circumftances may. Fortune throw a brave and honeft Man, where it fhall not be in his Power to aB bravely and honeflly ? If there are no fuch, then ReBitude of Con duB, if a Good, is a Good Indeprivabk. I confefs, faid I, it appears fo. But A Dialogue. 193 But farther, faid he — Another Pre^ Part II. conception of the Sovereign Good was, to be Agreeable to Nature, It was, And can any thing be more agreeable to a Rational and Social Animal, than Rational and Social ConduB ? Nothing, But ReBitude of ConduB is with us Rational and Social ConduB* It is. Once more, continued he— —Another Pre-conception of this Good was, to he Con* ducive, not to Mere-being, but to Well- being. Admit it. And can any thing, believe you, conduce fo probably to the Well-being of a Rational Social Animal, as the right Exercife of that Reafon., and of thofe Social AffeBions ? 'Nothing. And what is this fame Exercife, but the highefl ReBitude of ConduB ? Certainly. §.3. You fee then, faid he, how well our Hypothefis, being once admitted, tal lies with pur Original Pre-conceptions of the Sovereign Good. I replied, it in- O deed 194 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part II. deed appeared fo, arid could not be denied, But who, think you, ever dreamt of a Happinefs like this ? A Happinefs depen- w dent, not on the Succefs, but on the Aim ? Even common and ordinary Life, replied he, can furnifh us with Examples. Afk of the Sportfman where lies his En joyment? Afk whether it be in thePof- feffion of a flaughter'd Hare, or Fox ? He would rejeft, with Contempt, the very Suppofition He would tell you, as well as he was able, that the Joy was in the Purfuit in the Difficulties which are ob viated ; in the Faults, which are retrieved; ' in the ConduB and Direftion of the Chace thro' all its Parts — that the Completion of their Endeavours was fo far from giving them Joy, that inftantly at that Period all their Joy was at an end. For Sportf- men, replied I, this may be no bad Rea- ' foning. It is not the Sentiment, faid he, of Sportfmen alone. The Man of Gal lantry not unoften has been found to think after the fame manner. — Mm A Dialogue. -* Metis eft amor huic flmilis ; nam Tranfvolat in medio poflta,&fugientia capiat. To thefe we may add the Tribe of Buil ders and Projectors. Or has not your own Experience informed you of Numbers, who, in the Building and Laying-out, have expreffed the bigheft Delight; but fhewn the utmoft Indifference to the Refult of their Labours, to the Manfion or Gardens, when once finifhed and complete ? i The Truth, faid I, of thefe Examples is not to be difputed. But I could wifh your Hypothefis had better than thefe to fupport it. In the ferious View of Happi nefs, do you ever imagine there were any, who could fix it (as we faid before) not on the Succefs, but on the Aim? JVIore, even in this light, faid he, than perhaps at firft you may imagine. There are Inftances innumerable of Men, bad as well as good, who having fixed, as their Aim, a certain ConduB of their own, have O 2 fo * Hor. Sat. II. L. r. v. 107. 196 Concerning HAPPINESS, Part II. fo far attached their Welfare and Happinefs to it, as to deem all Events in its Profecu- tion, whether fortunate or unfortunate, to be mean, contemptible, and not worthy their Regard. I called on him for Examples. What think you, faid he, ofthe AT- . faffin, who flew the firft Prince of Orange ; and who, tho' brought by his Conduft to the moft exquifite Tortures, yet eonfcious of what he had done, could bear them all unmoved ? Or (if you will have a better Man) what think you of that fturdy Roman, who would have difhatched Porfenna ; and who, full of his Defign, and fuperior to all Events, could thruft a Hand into the Flames with the fteadieft Intrepidity ? I replied, That thefe indeed were very un common Inftances. Attend too, continued he, to Epi curus dying, the Founder of i. Philofophy, little favouring of Entbuflafm " This. I " write you (fays he, in one of his Epiftles) " while the laft Day of Life is pajing, and " tbat A Dialogue. 197 « that a Happy One. The Pains, indeed of 'Part II. " my Body are not capable of being heigh- «* tened. Tet to thefe we oppofe that Joy of " the Soul, 'which arifes from the Memory te ef our paft Speculations." Hear him? confonant to this, in another PlaCe affert- irig, that a Rational Adverfify was better